He took another slice of pizza, biting into it with a grin that was equal parts mischievous and delighted as Cece snorted her beer. "Zombie werewolves," he repeated sagely, "we'd legitimtely be the bad kind of fucked." He chuckled. "You'd hope they'd be immune, but knowing our luck they would be the most susceptible or something."
Grimacing as she asked about ghosts, he shook his head, swallowing the large bite of pizza he'd taken before he answered. "They're everwhere," he told her, "I mean some places are worse than others, like where there's been murders, executions etc. And sometimes some idiot tries to summon something and actually suceeds and it just hangs around. But I guess 'cause there's a number of people on the island that have pissed someone off before they died etcetera etcetera... plus who doesn't wanna see what's on the other side of invisible police tape? I'd wanna know what was going on over here, too."
He sipped at his water and took another bite of pizza, chewing it thoughtfully before he snorted. "Nah," he responded, "It's not- it's not like it would be better to keep them out for anyone other than me. Most of the time they wouldn't bother you guys, it'd just be me that's stuck listening to the chattering of dead old women who don't know when to shut up. So, better for my mental health, for sure."