DEAD SERIOUS ABOUT LOVE
Season One
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Chapter One: The Mansion with a Bad Mood
George Mfum hated mornings. Not because he wasn't a morning person—he wasn't an anything person. But especially not a "wake-up-to-a-letter-from-a-lawyer" kind of person.
The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and too fancy to be anything good. He opened it while chewing burnt toast over his sink in his cramped studio apartment that smelled faintly of damp socks and cheap detergent.
"Mr. George Kwesi Mfum, You are the sole heir to the estate of your late uncle, Bartholomew Mfum..."
George choked on his toast and knocked over his only clean mug.
"Who the hell is Bartholomew?" he muttered.
A week later, he was standing in front of a three-story Victorian house in the middle of nowhere, with fog thick enough to hide a football field. The mansion sat like a sulking giant, cloaked in overgrown ivy, its paint flaking like sunburnt skin. The driveway was cracked and littered with fallen leaves that refused to move, even when the wind blew. Crows cawed like unpaid backup singers, and the iron gate groaned open on its own.
George stared, suitcase in hand, regretting every decision that led to this moment.
The lawyer, a short man named Mr. Mensah, handed him the keys and a thick folder of documents, then ran to his car like the house had just insulted his mother.
"I'll be in touch," he called over his shoulder.
George muttered, "Yeah, right," and turned back to the house.
"This place has 'haunted' written all over it," he said. "Perfect."
He stepped inside—and the door slammed shut behind him with such finality that even the crows flew off.
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Chapter Two: Amara, the Ghost with Issues
The first night in the mansion was uneventful—if you didn't count the plumbing gurgling like it was digesting a small mammal and the chandelier that blinked Morse code for "GET OUT."
At exactly 2:13 a.m., the air turned icy. A loud thud echoed from the attic. Then whispering. Then a soft giggle.
George, armed with a frying pan and his best insults, crept up the stairs in his SpongeBob pajamas.
"Alright, spirit of Uncle Bartholomew, if you're going to haunt me, do it respectfully!"
The attic door creaked open by itself. Inside, bathed in moonlight from a shattered window, was a girl—no, a woman—floating slightly above the ground, dressed in a tattered white gown with long, flowing hair. Her arms were crossed. Her eyes narrowed.
"You're not even a little scared?" she asked.
George blinked. "Are you seriously a ghost?"
"Are you seriously wearing SpongeBob pajamas?" she countered.
Thus began his reluctant friendship with Amara—the house's resident ghost. She was dramatic, sarcastic, and surprisingly bored after a century of haunting. Also, very territorial.
"You're in my house," she insisted.
"I inherited it legally," he shot back.
"You inherited my prison. Congrats."
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Chapter Three: Lydia, the Renovator with a Smile
Lydia Nkansah was a civil engineer with a focus on heritage buildings. She arrived in a dusty SUV and a bright yellow hard hat, her clipboard packed with renovation permits and a grin that was too cheerful for someone inspecting a murder house.
George liked her immediately.
Amara didn't.
"She's going to ruin everything," Amara hissed, appearing beside George as Lydia measured a cracked window.
George shrugged. "She's fixing the place. You should thank her."
"I should haunt her."
"Please don't."
Things escalated quickly. Lydia started hearing footsteps at night, her blueprints vanished, and her coffee always turned cold no matter how fresh. George spent more time apologizing than sleeping.
"She's a poltergeist with a petty streak," he told Lydia.
"She's jealous," Lydia replied.
And she wasn't wrong.
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Chapter Four: Date Night and Dead Things
Lydia invited George out. Dinner at a small restaurant in town. He wore his least-wrinkled shirt. She wore earrings that sparkled like moonlight.
The candlelit dinner was going well—until Amara showed up. Invisible to all but George, she hovered between them, knocking over the wine glass, flipping the breadbasket, and finally, flipping the entire table.
"Your ghost is possessive," Lydia said, wiping marinara off her skirt.
"She's not my ghost," George muttered. "She came with the house."
Lydia didn't leave. She just raised an eyebrow and said, "We're going to need holy water. Lots of it."
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Chapter Five: Exorcism Attempt #1
The priest arrived with a suitcase full of crosses, incense, and confidence. He left six minutes later, screaming, his robes singed, yelling about "the banshee in the walls."
George and Lydia watched him from the porch, sipping tea.
"Well, that didn't work," George said.
Amara floated behind them, humming "Let It Go."
"I think she likes the drama," George added.
"She needs a therapist," Lydia said.
"She is the therapist," Amara whispered, smiling.
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Chapter Six: The Journal in the Attic
While organizing the dusty attic, George found an old journal beneath a loose floorboard. It was Amara's.
In it, she wrote about falling in love with Bartholomew, their secret engagement, and the betrayal—he left her at the altar, choosing wealth over love. Heartbroken and shamed, she cursed the mansion and leapt from the highest balcony.
George closed the book slowly.
"She died… heartbroken," he whispered.
"She died petty," Amara corrected from behind him, but her voice was softer now.
He looked at her with new eyes—less ghost, more girl. A lonely girl, trapped in grief.
He started talking to her more. Not just about hauntings, but about life, music, books. Her favorite flavor of ice cream, which oddly enough was pistachio.
Lydia noticed.
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Chapter Seven: Ghost Jealousy is Real
When Lydia tried to kiss George one night, Amara unleashed a blizzard inside the house. Snow in the bathroom. Icicles on the light fixtures.
George had to set boundaries.
"You can't just freeze the plumbing because I like someone else!"
"I died in this house. I am the plumbing."
Lydia was not amused.
"You need to make a choice," she told George. "Her or me."
George was silent.
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Chapter Eight: The Mirror Game
Lydia left. The mansion went still. Amara drifted like a forgotten thought. One morning, George found her staring into a dusty mirror.
"I wasn't always like this," she said. "I used to laugh. I used to dance."
George wiped the mirror and saw her reflection beside his own.
"You still can. Just… let go."
She didn't respond. But the next morning, the house smelled like flowers instead of mildew.
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Chapter Nine: The Letter
George wrote Lydia a letter. A real one. Ink and paper. He told her the truth—about the ghost, the feelings, the mansion that somehow became a home.
He left it at her office.
Amara watched quietly.
"She's good for you," she said. "Better than I was for Bartholomew."
"She's real. But so are you."
"I think it's time I became a memory," Amara whispered.
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Chapter Ten: Return
One week later, Lydia returned.
With luggage.
"I'll give this madness one more try," she said, smiling.
George couldn't speak. He just hugged her.
Amara floated above them, arms crossed.
"I'm watching you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," George said.
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Season One Finale: Ghost House Rules
The mansion was warm again. Pictures hung straight. Lights stopped flickering (mostly). The plumbing only screamed on Wednesdays.
Lydia, George, and Amara learned to coexist. Kind of.
One haunted heart, one hopeful one, and one very confused one.
Because sometimes, the scariest thing isn't the ghost in your attic—it's admitting you love someone who might leave you. Or worse, who might stay forever.
Season One ends.
Season Two? A haunted wedding, a new ghost rival, and a mirror that steals memories.
To Be Continued...
Season Two: Dead Serious About Marriage
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Chapter One: Wedding Plans and Warning Signs
The mansion was... calmer. That should have been the first red flag.
George Mfum woke up to birds chirping, no howling winds or bleeding wallpaper. The chandelier hadn't blinked Morse code since Tuesday. Even Amara—the once-overdramatic ghost who claimed emotional ownership of every hallway—had been oddly quiet.
It worried him.
"Peace doesn't suit this place," he muttered, tying his bathrobe.
Lydia stirred under the covers. "Maybe Amara's grown up?"
George raised an eyebrow. "She died in 1913. Emotional maturity isn't really her strong suit."
They were engaged now. George had proposed with a ring from the attic and a terrified speech in front of Amara, who rolled her eyes but didn't freeze the pipes.
Still, something felt off.
The toaster burst into flames.
"Yup," George sighed. "There it is."
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Chapter Two: Ghosts Don't RSVP
They decided to hold the wedding at the mansion.
Lydia had dreams of fairy lights, old books, and vintage charm. George had dreams of surviving it. Amara? She had demands.
"No hymns. No exorcists. No priest with holy water. And absolutely no vows about 'eternal' anything—I've lived eternal. It's overrated."
George wrote her a ghost-of-honor speech to calm her down.
Meanwhile, odd things started happening again. A shadow darted past mirrors. A whisper echoed through the plumbing. Amara claimed innocence.
"I haven't done anything this week," she huffed. "I'm emotionally detoxing."
George believed her. That was even worse.
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Chapter Three: Meet the Best Man
Kwame Mfum, George's younger brother, arrived wearing sunglasses at night, blasting Afrobeat through wireless earbuds, and carrying a duffel bag of bad decisions.
"I'm here to save your bachelor party," he declared.
He was loud, charming, and clueless about ghosts. When he saw Amara, he screamed, then immediately tried to flirt.
"Is it morally wrong to hit on a ghost?"
"Yes," George said.
"No," Amara said.
They high-fived.
Lydia was less amused.
"I want this wedding to be elegant," she said.
George nodded. "With this crowd? We'll be lucky if no one gets possessed."
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Chapter Four: The Mirror Doesn't Lie
In the west wing of the mansion, they discovered a mirror hidden behind a boarded wall. Tall, ancient, and cracked down the center.
When George looked into it, he didn't see his reflection—he saw a version of himself... older, sadder, and alone.
When Lydia looked, she saw herself in a wedding dress. Crying.
Amara refused to go near it.
"That mirror doesn't reflect," she whispered. "It remembers. It twists."
That night, the mirror whispered George's name.
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Chapter Five: The Ex
Lydia's ex-fiancé, Theo Mensah, showed up out of nowhere, claiming to have been "in the area." He was handsome, well-dressed, and immediately disliked by every supernatural object in the mansion.
The dining table levitated when he sat.
The fireplace spat ash when he spoke.
Amara floated through him and declared: "He smells like regret."
George was jealous. Lydia was annoyed.
"He wants to ruin this," she told George.
"He doesn't need to. This house is trying already," George replied.
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Chapter Six: The Spirit Wedding Planner
Enter: Nana Aba, a ghost from the 1800s with a talent for hosting proper events—she came attached to one of the antique chairs George accidentally brought out of storage.
She wore lace, pearls, and an eternal scowl.
"Young people know nothing about class," she announced.
She and Amara bickered constantly. But soon, ghostly flower arrangements appeared. Transparent caterers glided down the halls. Wedding music played itself from dusty gramophones.
"Is this weird?" Kwame asked.
George nodded. "Very."
Lydia smiled. "But kind of perfect too."
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Chapter Seven: When Mirrors Break
The mirror cracked completely the night before the wedding. Shadows crawled from the edges. The mansion groaned like a wounded beast.
George dreamed of fire. Lydia dreamed of drowning. Amara screamed so loudly it shattered every window on the east wing.
A new ghost emerged from the mirror—pale, tattered, and hollow-eyed. It called itself Solace.
"I am what's left when love dies," it whispered.
Solace didn't want the wedding to happen.
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Chapter Eight: Cold Feet, Warm Heart
George was shaken. Lydia was quiet. Amara was furious.
"That thing feeds on doubt," she hissed. "You want to beat it? Love harder."
George stood in front of the broken mirror and shouted, "I'm scared. I don't know if I'm good enough. But I love her!"
The mirror cracked again. Solace recoiled.
Lydia joined him. "I choose messy, ghost-filled love. I choose George."
The mirror shattered completely.
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Chapter Nine: Vows with the Dead Watching
The wedding day. Crows perched on chandeliers. Nana Aba cried ectoplasmic tears. Kwame performed a terrible rap.
Amara stood beside George, ghostly and regal.
"I'm proud of you, human," she said.
George and Lydia exchanged vows.
"I vow to love you even when the plumbing screams," she said.
"I vow to protect you from vengeful mirrors and flirty ghosts," he said.
They kissed.
Lightning struck. A rainbow appeared. The mansion sighed in relief.
Even ghosts need closure.
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Chapter Ten: Honeymoon in Hell (Almost)
They planned to go to Zanzibar. The mansion had other plans.
Luggage vanished. The car keys screamed. The fireplace spelled, DON'T LEAVE ME in soot.
Amara smirked. "She's just dramatic. Like me."
They left anyway—holding hands, laughing, promising to come back.
The mansion watched them go. Quiet. Still. Almost cont
ent.
A single mirror shard on the floor flickered.
A whisper: "Not over... yet."
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Season Two Ends
To Be Continued in Season Three: Ghost Baby Problems, Time Loops, and Lydia's Haunted In-Laws