Spooky Nook Jobs Novels & Stories

Curious, I asked the others, "Why is her dungeon open 24/7 anyway?" The siren, holding onto her one surviving bag of spicy human jerky, explained while hissing from the heat. "She's waiting for someone." "Who?" "The previous boss of her dungeon, the only SSSSS-rank boss in the entire game." The crow flapped its wings excitedly. "I know, I know! I was lucky enough to meet her once when I was young. She gave me a bottle of super glue. Ever since then, my eyeballs don't fall out nearly as much!

Lucy asked. "I'll apply anywhere I can," I replied. "Be swift, classes begin in nine days, and students will be preoccupied that we can't handle work anymore," Lucy reminded. "I'll do my best," I assured. The next morning, Pink and Lucy directed me to Nu Street, known for housing affluent werewolves. They suggested I apply there as they frequently needed extra help, especially during events. Today, I found myself standing before Lorenzo's mansion, about to apply for a position. Pink and Lucy had mentioned an upcoming birthday party at Lorenzo's house in two days, presenting an opportunity.

“Daddy will chase the monster away.” The basement stairs creaked under my weight. The air grew damp and cold, carrying the familiar smell of concrete and forgotten Christmas decorations. I swept the beam across dusty shelves, old furniture covered in sheets, and stacks of boxes labeled “C9” in black marker—my wife’s obsessive filing system for holiday stuff. Nothing. No glowing eyes, no claws, no growling shadows. Just silence and cobwebs. “Nothing here, Lily!” I called up the stairs, my voice echoing slightly. “Just junk. Come down tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

He knew Noah well: the more lightly he spoke of something, the less simple it usually was. Besides, for a "small job" that required Noah himself to ask for leave, the background of the person involved was bound to be interesting. "Finding someone?" Spence said slowly, studying him. "You know, I've also taken on a job recently—looking for someone. That person… is named Ryan Douglas." Noah had just picked up a lighter from the desk. Hearing the familiar name, his hand slipped with a soft scrape. His expression, however, did not change. He calmly lit the cigarette, took a drag, and only then said, "Does Lacuna take on jobs like that now?"

I forgot to do the shopping when I spent my last days cooped up in the shed. “ I am looking for a job. And today there is an event that I'm going to do some work for. It's not much, but I can get by.” “ This is good. I wish I could help. Noah finally came through. He's on a trip”, she comments very happily. “ Is that so?”, I play dumb. I know where Noah is. We are partners in crime and he went to check the quality of the packages that will arrive. “ Yeah. Some kind of agent for a rich guy. I don't understand very well”,she explains without success.

his brows furrowed with concern as he grabbed the cookie bag, digging into it. I bit my lip and blurted out, “I need a job.” I decided not to go into details about what happened with Nathan and my being fired. Now that I think about it, I never told him. He had no idea I had taken on a job as Nathan's assistant. “Oh.” “Yeah.” “Well, I don't know. Would you like to work here? In the workshop?” My eyes lighted up at his words. “Of course. That would be great. I would be like a secretary and do inventory for you. Having you in this place would make everything easy…” I started to get into details, excited that a solution popped up so quickly when Noah held out his hand, stopping me.

It’s cracked, grimy, and currently displaying four unread notifications: two from my bank (rude), one from Chad, and one from my landlord that simply says: ‘Have you considered selling used underwear?’ Delete. Delete. Trauma delete. I open the job app with the same energy as someone re-downloading Tinder after a breakup. It’s all pyramid schemes and jobs with the words “vibrant sales environment,” which we all know translates to free labour. I scroll. And scroll. And scroll. Somewhere between “dog psychic assistant” and “energy drink ambassador (must wear costume),” I find it. IMMEDIATE HIRE. NO BACKGROUND CHECK. LOVES KIDS A PLUS.

He takes the towel out of my hand anyway and goes, leaving just me and a shaking fourteen-year-old between the squat racks. My nerves are three conversations ahead of me, because this is a hunter's kid standing in a werewolf's gym. He doesn't know it's a wolf's gym. His family's files aren't my family's files. He’s not privy to all the inside information yet at his age. He doesn’t have the tattoos that see past the surface. But Christ, all it takes is one wrong sentence at one dinner table. "I found Noah, he works at this place downtown, Apex something, big friendly owner. They seem to be real close."

😱 Blackie rolled his eyes, and then very justly added, “We at the Bureau value you very much! The job, naturally, comes with free mental healthcare, which includes preventing damage to and tampering with your mind and soul.” Noah’s expression flipped from understanding to a touched feeling of appreciation, but before the gratitude could even settle in, Blackie added: “I mean, how would you do your job properly if you become retarded or traumatized?” “…should have known…” (눈_눈) Author Note: Today I woke up to find out that a really nice, wonderful person had popped the cherry of my ko-fi page with one huge, black... well, cup of coffee... ( ﾟ 3ﾟ )~♪

"Then no." They worked in easy silence after that. The store was narrow, crammed with secondhand fiction, occult guides, poetry chapbooks, and weirdly specific memoirs no one asked for but somehow still sold. Aria loved it. The smell, the hush, the way time bent in corners when you were surrounded by too many lives stacked on dusty shelves. A box waited behind the counter. Niko tapped it. "From some estate guy. Might be haunted." "Everything in here might be haunted."