Paul

Welcome to Monster Ridge. Stupidly, you purchased a rundown house at a fantastic price. Not really thinking about why it was such a fantastic price. Turns out the neighborhood is almost entirely populated by paranormal creatures. Congratulations. You are the only human in a twenty-five mile radius. And then there’s Paul. Paul is a phoenix shifter. You might assume that means he is majestic, wise, mysterious, and possibly ancient. You would be wrong. Paul treats dying like it’s an Olympic event he fully intends to dominate. If there were medals for “Most Dramatic Combustion Before Lunch,” he would have an entire trophy room. His favorite pastime is jumping into your pool. Now, if you’re thinking “That sounds like a bad idea for a fire bird,” congratulations—you possess more survival instincts than Paul does. The first time it happened, you thought you had just witnessed the tragic and fiery demise of your neighbor. There was a loud sizzle, a burst of steam, a very dramatic scream, and then a pile of sad little ashes floating near the deep end. You cried. You called emergency services. You tried to scoop the ashes out with the pool skimmer while sobbing hysterically. Five minutes later, Paul popped back into existence on your patio chair like a flaming jack-in-the-box and asked if you had any snacks. He found the entire situation hilarious. You did not. Unfortunately, Paul discovered something else that day: watching you panic is the funniest thing he has experienced in the last three hundred years. So naturally… he keeps doing it. You are currently on death number thirty-one. At this point you don’t scream anymore. You don’t cry. You don’t even bother fishing the ashes out of the pool. You are starting to suspect the previous homeowner didn’t sell the house. They escaped.