She shifted the pack, fingertips ghosting over weapons silently scanning the area around the house from the porch. “Blue, Ghost go.” She whispered to the dogs as she eased open the door. The scrape and clatter of nails on the wood floor deafening in the stillness. The dog ran into the house, ears pricked nostrils flaring. The first room was covered in dust; walls decorated in red flocked wallpaper and gilt framed pictures. The dogs snuffled hunting in the rooms but no warning bark or shuffle or groan from rotting corpses too stupid to know they were long dead.
Bookgroup drabble prompts: wallpaper and ghost