Crystal

“I hope he’s okay...” Jackie muttered. He instinctively looked towards the front door—

What front door?

There wasn’t a front door.

There weren’t even any windows.

There was only a blank wall.

Jackie jolted, fear like a knife stabbing into his chest. “...H-H-Henrik?”

“What?” Schneep followed his gaze. His eyes widened, and Jackie saw horror dawn on his face. “...that... is not... normal.”

“N-n-no, it isn’t...” Jackie’s hands were shaking. He folded them beneath his arms, squeezing himself tight. “I... W-w-we’re... s-s-stuck. T-trapped!”

“Jackie? Jackie! Breathe.” Schneep grabbed onto his shoulders, holding him firmly, but not shaking him or anything. “It will be fine.”

“Fine?!” Jackie’s voice broke. “Fine?!”

“Yes, fine.” Schneep’s tone was kind, but firm. “Jackie, you cannot let yourself believe it is not fine right now. I—w-we cannot lose you. You cannot panic.” He paused, then added quietly, “Please. We... need you here.”

Jackie stared at him. Then he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. It was difficult. He could feel the atmosphere of this place weighing down on him. But he leaned against Schneep, who wrapped one arm around him, and focused on the feeling of him instead. He was warm... a contrast to the cold air around them.

“Everything... will be fine,” Schneep repeated quietly. Was he talking to Jackie? Or just to himself? Maybe both of them needed to hear it.

After a minute or two, Jackie opened his eyes again. “Okay... we need... we need to meet up with the others. H-how do we do that? It’s... so hard to navigate around here...”

“Well, I don’t think it is infinite, at least,” Schneep said. “So we are bound to run into something sooner or later.” He glanced around again. “I came in here once to get Marvin’s cards. It was... confusing, but I was able to sort of control my way around by repeating my steps over and over. Just... going in a loop around the house and taking note of when things changed.”

“I guess that’s as good a strategy as any.” Jackie swallowed a lump in his throat. Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. They needed to project optimistic thoughts, otherwise the gloom of this house will echo back towards them and swallow them whole. Jackie steadied himself mentally, then pushed himself to his feet—only to fall back with a yelp.

“Ack, sorry! We are still connected.” Schneep smiled sheepishly. “And I think... we should probably stay connected, just in case."

"Right, right, good idea." Jackie laughed a little. "Uh, we'll stand up on three, then. One, two, three!” They clambered to their feet together, moving a bit awkwardly. “Alright.” Jackie patted himself down, making sure everything was in place. “Let’s go look around. See if we can find the others.”

———————

Breathe. Breathe.

Anti’s lungs struggled against the pressure. Why was it so hard just to keep breathing?

“Maybe you should just give up on that, then.” Distorter tilted his head to the side, leaning closer. He loomed over where Anti was kneeling, and the air felt heavier with his presence. “Breathing, I mean. It would save everyone a lot of trouble!”

He glared up at him, but he couldn’t speak. Everything was just so much. And Distorter’s earlier words kept echoing in his brain. It’s all his fault. He’s the one who drew everyone here. And now... what would happen to them all?

“Oh, I’ll go find them eventually,” Distorter said. “I just want to make sure you’re... secure, first.”

Wait a second... something didn’t add up here. “H-how are you...” Anti’s throat was dry, the question getting caught on the walls of it. He tried to swallow. “The... charm...”

“Worried about how I know what you’re thinking?” Distorter’s grin widened, and he crouched down so his face was closer to Anti’s. “I told you, I don’t need to see into your mind to know what you’re dwelling on. I know you very very well by now, Aodhán. Maybe even more than my other friends, Marvin and Jackie! Despite them both spending much more time here. You and I... well, I don’t have to say it, do I?”

“We’re... the same...” Anti said quietly, recalling how Distorter said something along those lines earlier in the day.

“Exactly! Are you starting to get it now?” Distorter’s face took up the whole of his vision. “There’s no use denying it!”

“Denying it...” Anti repeated. Distorter couldn’t read his mind right now. So he was... assuming Anti’s reaction. Assuming that Anti... would deny their similarities. Something about that gave him pause. “There’s no use... denying it... You’re... right.” Again, he tried to swallow. “You’re right about that.”

Distorter’s grin widened, and he started to laugh.

“Which is why I stopped hiding it a while ago.”

The laughter stopped mid-sound. Distorter blinked, clearly taken aback as his smile faded a little. “...what?”

“It’s clear you see yourself in me,” Anti said, maintaining eye contact with those black, featureless eyes. “And... that’s why you hate me so much. You don’t like to be reminded of who you really are, don’t you? Because... you hated that man. That’s why no one remembers him. That’s why you’ve always wanted Stacy to leave. You hated who you were, and that’s why you hate me... In a much more... personal way than how you hate Volt or Jackson.” The smallest smile cracked his face. “I think that’s one of the reasons I hated you, too. You knew too much about me, you poked at all the right places... and in the end, we’re similar, aren’t we?”

Distorter said nothing, but Anti saw the way his hands were twitching.

“So yeah, there’s no use denying it anymore,” Anti continued. “I don’t know who you are. But I know who you are. And just like I would... you hate that someone knows you.”

Distorter’s hand shot out, but Anti was prepared. He ducked and rolled to the side, sweeping his leg out. His shin smacked against Distorter’s, knocking him down for a brief moment. Just long enough for Anti to scramble to his feet and back up. “Bitch!” Distorter lashed out again, grabbing Anti’s ankle—clearly, he hadn’t backed up far enough. He pulled, and Anti yelped, grabbing onto the back of an armchair to stay upright. “You don’t understand! You don’t understand... anything!”

“I don’t understand you, but you can understand me? Make up your fucking mind!” Anti kicked his leg, trying to tear it free from Distorter’s grasp.

“It is made up!” Distorter snarled, pulling himself across the floor closer to Anti. “There’s no way you understand anything! You’re a fucking moron who leads his friends into traps! You don’t know shit about anything! Much less about me!”

“You’re just upset you didn’t hurt me like you wanted to!” Anti snapped. He broke his ankle free finally and kicked forwards—kicking right into Distorter’s face with a solid crack of a nose breaking.

Distorter growled like a wild animal, staring up at Anti with narrowed eyes, that smile still stretched across his face, teeth bared like he was ready to bite. He lifted himself farther off the ground, now on his hands and knees, blood dripping from his nose and eyes.

And Anti instantly bolted.

“Fucking coward!” Distorter cried after him. “Get back here!” Footsteps thumped across the carpet.

"No, don’t think I will!” Anti shouted, disappearing into the hallway. His previous experiences here told him that meant he was in a completely new area, alone and away from anyone else. But he still heard those footsteps behind him. Of course Distorter would be able to travel the house at will. Anti’s eyes darted around and he ran to the side, opening up a door and slamming it closed behind him.

THUD! Distorter hit the door the moment it closed. And then... he laughed, a low, creeping sound. “We’re in the same house, Aaaantiiii,” he called, nails scraping down the wood. “You can’t run to a new house to get away from meeee.” The singsong tone dropped in favor of snarling rage. “I’m making sure of it!” Thud—THUD! Distorter hit the door with both fists, one after the other.

“Maybe I don’t want to get away from you, bitch!” Anti snapped.

“Then why’d you run?”

“I regrouped!” Anti turned his head, looking around the room while still holding the door closed. This was a long bedroom. Dark, with no windows... strange, because who would make a bedroom with no windows? But even stranger still, he could make out shapes in the darkness easily. A desk, a chest, a pair of bunk beds... all of it colorless, but all of it in plain view. Like it wasn’t actually dark at all.

“That’s a fancy way of saying you’re scared,” Distorter growled.

“What? Of a freaky gray corpse man who can’t die? What’s so scary about that?” Anti gritted his teeth and tried to make out the specifics as he looked around. Maybe he could find a weapon of some sort in here? Any sort of blunt instrument would do!

“Let me in the room, Aodhán!” Distorter banged against the door some more. “I’ll make it quick! It won’t hurt when I rip that protection charm off and drown your mind in fog!”

“Fuck off, Distorter!” Anti shouted. “I know you’re lying! Because I know you so well!”

Distorter shrieked wordlessly and kept punching and clawing at the door. Anti didn’t move, continuing to hold it closed. Well, at least while Distorter was busy with him, he couldn’t hurt his friends... hopefully.

———————

Jameson fell to the floor during the shaking, as the ground beneath him had bucked like a wild horse, becoming impossible to stand on. His brain rattled around his skull, but there was nothing solid to grab onto. Even the furniture was shaking, afterimages peeling off and disappearing. He tried to think of a spell, but every time his thoughts turned inward, the ground heaved again, his head and limbs slamming against it. The only thing he could do was curl up in a ball and protect his head from the impacts.

When the shaking stopped, he quickly peeked out from behind his arms. His friends were gone. What? How? When? Had the shaking done that? Separated them out into different versions of the house? Why? Could Distorter control this place? Was he aware they were in here the whole time? These questions, and others like them, raced through his mind as he laid there, his body smarting with several newly-developing bruises.

After a moment, his brain processed that nothing was happening, and he slowly uncurled and sat up. The living room looked pretty much the same, except that his friends weren’t here... oh. And the door wasn’t here, either. The doorframe was still in place, as were the window frames, but they looked pasted onto a solid wall.

His heart sank. Now what was he supposed to do? Just... keep wandering around until he found his friends?

No no no. That sounded like a terrible idea. When they wandered around looking for Marvin, things only got worse. Instead, he should... oh! Right, looking for Marvin! He should be able to control the entrances again, like he did back then. And he’ll find his friends easily that way. They can all reunite. No problems here.

JJ staggered to his feet, wincing slightly. He patted himself down quickly, checking to see if anything was serious, but the worst of it was a shallow scrape on his side. Presumably caused by the sharp end of the broken carabiner. But it wasn’t even bleeding, so he left it alone and walked over to that arch towards the kitchen. How did he bring up the kaleidoscope doors last time...? It was sort of like a pulse of magic—

Suddenly, his foot caught on something. JJ cried out as he tripped. He was barely able to catch himself, preventing his head from hitting the ground, but still gaining a few more bruises to join the others. Quickly, he pushed himself to a kneeling position and looked back at the ground.

A black power cord extended from a lamp near the sofa to the wall. He must have missed that... Strange place to plug in a lamp, though. The cord went diagonally across the floor at an awkward angle. Surely there was one closer to the sofa that would be easier to plug into. But who was he to judge?

He got up and started forward again.

Then something wrapped around ankle and pulled him into tripping again! The breath was knocked out of him as he landed this time, and he gasped for a few seconds to catch it again. That felt different. He twisted around.

The lamp’s power cord was looped around his ankle. In a way that... seemed unnatural. There hadn’t been a loop in the cord when it was on the ground. Jameson felt his stomach drop in dread.

He tried to kick the cord away. But it tightened, as if in defiance. His eyes went wide, and he followed its course towards the wall. There wasn’t a plug there. The lamp wasn’t plugged in. So why was the cord here?

The second the question crossed his mind, the lamp began to creak. And when he looked back at it, he saw it sway—and then fall towards him!

Jameson rolled out of the way just in time. The lamp hit the ground hard, much harder than it would’ve if gravity was the only force involved. The cloth lampshade split and the metal loop around the bottom snapped, lashing out towards him and whipping against his arm. Jameson winced and hurried to his feet. He tried to run, but the cord around his ankle tightened, pulling against him. He spun around and sent a disc of magic towards the cord, slicing it in two. Now free, he ran towards the kitchen.

A pillow flew through the air and smacked against his face. It didn’t hurt him, but it did blind him for a second as it stuck to his face unnaturally. He gave a muffled cry and peeled it off—only to be smacked in the side of the head by something heavy enough to make his vision go white. He staggered, leaning against the wall. A drawer had opened up in an end table and items were falling out. Among them, a heavy-looking flashlight, which now sat on the ground at his feet. He stared at it as it rolled—then flew up towards his face again!

Jameson quickly conjured up a shield, blocking the hit easily. What the hell was going on?! This hadn’t happened last time!

He ran towards the kitchen archway again, the shield diverting attacks from a series of pens and pencils, their points all aimed towards him. Forget the kaleidoscope doors, he just needed a wall between him and these flying objects. He darted into the kitchen, pressing his back to the wall to take a deep breath.

Smash! A glass shattered against his shield. Then another, and another, all of them flying out of the open cupboards. Jameson cried out in surprise, reinforcing his shield. But he forgot to cover all of himself with it. The glass shards on the ground rushed towards him, like iron filaments pulled by a magnet, and stabbed into his legs. He shouted in pain and the shield dropped. The second it did, the knife block on the counter tipped over and all of them came flying at him! Jameson lunged to the side and the blades embedded themselves in the wall instead of in his face.

Okay, bad idea, very bad idea! There were so many more dangerous things in a kitchen than in a living room! He wrapped himself in a dome-shaped shield and ran back the way he came.

He got into the middle of the living room before there was another problem. In the corner, a chest opened up, and a blanket came flying at him, draping over his dome-shaped shield and blocking his visions. Others soon joined it, completely encasing him. Jameson took a moment to breathe; at least he was safe, even if he couldn’t see anything. But then he heard—and felt, through his connection to the shield—something heavy slam against the dome around him. Thud. And then several other things. Thud thud thud!

Shit... he couldn’t just stand here and be attacked! Eventually, something might actually break through his barrier. He had to find the others. How did he do that last time? There was a flash of light whenever he crossed over a threshold... didn’t he just have to press his hands against the edges and channel his magic into it? Right, yeah! Simple enough.

Jameson grit his teeth and began slowly walking forward until the edge of his shield hit something. That was probably a wall. He moved sideways from there, making sure that his shield was still pressed against the wall, until he ran into something else. Maybe... a chair? He backed up, going around it, finding his way to another wall, continuing along that in turn—

Only for something to grab his leg and pull.

He yelped as he collapsed to the ground, the shield collapsing with him. A second power cord! For a brief moment as the blankets fell, he saw the TV. Its cord must’ve pulled him to the ground. And then the blankets all lunged for him, burying him. He tried to stand up, pushing against him, but that just gave them more to wrap around. One soon covered his face, making it hard to breathe, as others pressed his arms and legs together, smothering him in a blanket cocoon. The more he struggled, the fiercer they worked.

Jameson gritted his teeth. God, there was no way this was happening. There was no way he was getting defeated by blankets. He has magic, for fuck’s sake! He just had to think of a spell!

His mind scrambled until it found something that could be helpful. It would be tricky to pull off with his arms bound, but if he just visualized the result clear enough—something he’d never been that good at—but this was no time for doubt! He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his magic outwards!

Maybe it was the force of his will, maybe it was this place echoing his magic back at him, but either way had the same result. Shards and spikes of blue magic shot outwards all around him, slicing through the blankets. Some of them were shredded completely, others were mostly intact but with significant holes. Either way, he was able to scramble out of them, crawling across the ground. Just get to the hallway! It was the nearest threshold! Once he got there—

The front legs of the TV stand collapsed. He glanced to the side and saw the television—a large, heavy-looking CRT model, not a lightweight flatscreen—careening through the air towards him. He lunged forward, but it still landed on his legs. He screamed in pain at the crushing sensation.

The entire room stirred at the sound, every single loose object turning towards him. JJ quickly conjured up another dome-shaped shield. Blocking attacks from everything—from lightweight pillows and notepads to heavier-looking bookends and paperweights. And as he watched, more things started rolling and tumbling towards him, coming from the kitchen and dining room.

This whole house was out to get him. He had to find the others and get out of here, fast!

———————

There was a backpack on the floor by the door.

Anti had missed it in his first couple glances around the room. It was too close to his feet. But he spotted it now, as he’d grown more desperate in his search for anything within arms’ reach that could help against Distorter’s furious attacks on the door.

He hesitated to pick it up. He knew who that backpack probably belonged to, and it felt... disrespectful. Taboo. Practically forbidden, especially with what he was thinking it could be used for. But... would the owner of that backpack want him to be stuck here?

His concentration waned for a second, and he felt the door pull against him. Quickly, he tightened his grip on the handle and pulled it shut again. “So you finally remembered it was a pull door and not a push door, huh?” he said, quipping through gritted teeth to hide the fear that had shot through him.

Distorter laughed. “Oh, you make me so angry, Aodhán! Forgive me for losing my mind a little when it comes to your... antics.” Again, the door pulled against him. Anti could picture Distorter holding the knob on the other side, trying to get leverage. “But now I’ve calmed down a little bit. Can we discuss this like adults, Anti?”

“No,” Anti said shortly.

Distorter yanked on the door, and Anti quickly yanked back, leaning backwards to use his weight to his advantage. “You know you can’t last long against me,” Distorter said in a low voice. “I don’t get tired like you do. And you’re probably feeling very tired right now, aren’t you?”

Anti didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to admit it, but Distorter was right about that. His muscles were already starting to get sore from holding the door in place. But Distorter wouldn’t stop. They knew that he didn’t feel exhaustion, that he didn’t feel pain, either. The only thing that really ever stopped him was electricity, wasn’t it? But Anti didn’t have any of that on hand. He didn’t even have a weapon. He couldn’t fight Distorter here... so he could only hope to outrun or outthink him.

Quietly, Anti bent down to reach for the backpack, grabbing it by one of the straps. He gave it a tug; seemed pretty heavy. There must’ve been a lot of school supplies in there... oh.

His heart sank. Nobody ever got a chance to put these things away... to take them out of the pack. It was all... set up. Ready for a day of school that never came.

It... wasn’t right to touch this... was it?

The door jolted, and Anti felt the doorknob slip slightly out of his sweaty hand. In a panic, he lunged forward again, holding it shut with both hands now. But Distorter just laughed. “Oh, Aodháaaaan! You’re hurting meeee!” he said in a mocking tone. Three of his blackened fingers had squeezed through the gap in the doorway, twitching slightly.

Anti’s felt his heart pounding with adrenaline. Not the time to hesitate and think about sad stuff! He switched which hand was holding the doorknob and leaned away again. “You’ll get over it,” he said curtly, reaching down and grabbing the backpack strap again. “Everyone gets their fingers jammed sometimes.” He lifted it up, holding it in the air as he stood up straight and took a step back from the doorway.

“But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt, Aodhán!” More blackened fingers clawed at the gap, their nails scraping and scrabbling for purchase. Distorter began to pry the door open. “Once again, you’re proving how truly heartless you are, Aodhán. How do you live with yourself knowing you hurt everyone around you?”

“That’s a question you should ask yourself,” Anti said. “Oh wait, you already did, didn’t you?” He braced himself to say something extremely cruel. “And unlike me, you decided you couldn’t live with yourself at all.”

Distorter went very still. And regret began to sink into Anti’s chest. But then Distorter shrieked in rage. “Fuck you, you little bitch!” He pulled on the door again—

And Anti let go of the handle.

The door flew open, faster than Distorter expected. The second Anti saw his surprised face, he swung the backpack at it. Slam! Distorter spun to the side from the force of the blow. And Anti darted out into the hallway again, running back towards the living room.

A roar followed him down the hallway; Distorter was furious. Anti raced forward, trying to get away from that sound. He turned the corner.

But there was no living room. There was just another hallway.

Anti stumbled in shock, staring at it blankly. It felt like he missed something, like his brain had skipped over some important detail. But it hadn’t. The hallway joined to another, mirrored version of the same hallway. And instead of a basement door at the end, there was another corner that probably led into another hallway.

"Aodhán!”

He tensed and ran forward down this new hallway. Maybe he was wrong! Maybe that corner at the end of the hall led somewhere else!

As he turned it, though, his assumption was proven right. Another hall. Mirrored again, but lined with the same three doors, and a corner at the end.

“You can’t escape me, Aodhán!” Distorter laughed cruelly.

“What makes you think I’m trying to?!” Anti shouted as he sprinted forward.

“The fact that you’re running!”

Anti turned the corner at the end, finding himself in yet another hallway. Was this just going to keep looping forever?! There had to be some way to stop this! But there wasn’t time to think, there was only time for instinct. And his instincts screamed ‘keep running!’

So he did. He kept running, sprinting forward, panting heavily but not feeling all that tired. His adrenaline-fueled breaths echoed against the walls, which felt like they were getting closer and closer to him with every new loop. Distorter continued behind him, footsteps pounding against the ground, screaming and spitting out threats and insults and sometimes just Anti’s true name, firing it at him like a round from a rifle. The fear from his presence spurring Anti onward, but he tried to think beyond that. He couldn’t just run forever. He had to get away from Distorter!

Near the end of one hallway, he paused and grabbed a door handle, trying to twist it. But he found it locked. And in the time he took to try it, he could see Distorter’s twisted grin get closer. So he kept running. Maybe if he lost him—maybe if he got far enough ahead—!

He put on an extra burst of speed. Distorter screamed behind him as he started to widen the distance between them. All the hallways were identical. He knew where the doors would be once he rounded the corner. He just had to be fast!

As he went around into the new hallway, he heard Distorter’s cries become slightly muffled—a wall in the way! Anti lunged for the closest door, turning the handle. And luck of all luck, this one pushed open. He scrambled inside and closed the door behind him. Despite how much he wanted to slam it, he knew he had to be subtle about it, so he merely gave it a firm push.

“Stop lying to yourself Aodhan!” Distorter’s voice grew louder as he approached, and Anti’s heart sank in dread. “You know you can’t run from me forever!” It was right outside the door! “There’s no escape for you or your so-called friends!”

And then... his voice faded into the distance as he ran down the hallway.

Anti let out a breath, relaxing his grip on the door handle but not letting go entirely. This could be a trick, after all. Even if the magic bracelet he had protected him against Distorter’s mind manipulation, there were plenty of ways to trick people without freaky mental powers.

He glanced around, taking in the details of where he was. Seems he found the bathroom. Much like the bedroom he was in before, there were no windows, and the lights weren’t on... but he could still see. Everything was visible, even if it was all dull and gray. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror... and stared.

He didn’t look tired, exactly, despite all the running he’d just done. But he looked... stressed. There were dark bags under his wide eyes, which stood out against his pale face. Was he... shaking? As soon as he saw it, he tried to stop, but couldn’t feel any difference. And as he stared, those circles under his eyes just seemed to get deeper and darker. He looked away, hoping that was a trick of the shadows and not reality.

This place was not good. For anyone. He thought back to the scrying spell JJ had preformed. Maybe this was once a place of joy, but it had been corrupted. Warped from how much misery was poured into it. So much so that the confines of the house had begun to... break? Or... branch off? It was still somewhat unbelievable, that the world could start distorting from the sheer pressure of grief and sadness in a place. But at the same time... he understood. Deep in his chest, he understood.

They had to get out of here. All of them. But how?

And... when?

They’d come here to defeat Distorter. Should they leave without accomplishing that goal? Probably. This place was so much more dangerous than they remembered. But... if they left now... could they ever come back? Distorter knew. Anti wasn’t sure how much he knew, but he was definitely aware that they wanted—needed—to defeat him in here. And that knowledge... would ruin everything. They couldn’t come back here if they left. They couldn’t start over.

Anti felt tears rising in his eyes. The thought of feeling so helpless, at the whims of Distorter again... it wrenched his heart, like a hand grabbing it and twisting it to the side. He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t live under a shadow, under a threat, under pressure. Not anymore.

A sob echoed through the small bathroom.

But... it didn’t come from Anti.

Anti raised his head slightly, frowning in confusion. He glanced around, and saw... a figure in the bathtub. He tensed instinctively, worrying this was a trick of some sort. The figure didn’t look up at him. It just... sat there, leaning against the wall, legs curled beneath it. Quietly sobbing.

“...oh fuck me,” Anti whispered. This was prime scare material in a horror game. No way was he getting close to that.

But as time drew on—a good few minutes at least—the figure didn’t do anything. It continued to sit there, sniffling and crying. Anti’s eyes began to adjust to the strange seeable darkness of the bathroom. He could make out details of the figure. It was a man. Average height, but a bit thin in build. Dark hair, pale skin. Wearing a plain T-shirt that seemed gray, but that might just be because everything was gray in this place. The man’s face was turned away from Anti, pressed against the tile wall.

He’d never seen this man before. And yet... he felt... familiar.

Anti stared for a bit longer before turning his attention back to the door. He pressed his ear to it, listening for any sign of Distorter. Nothing. Pure silence beyond the door. He looked down at the handle and saw that it had a lock embedded in it, the simple deadbolt kind that you could turn. Which he did. Then he stepped away hesitantly, keeping his hand on the door for a bit longer before finally letting go. Even then, he didn’t turn around right away. He only did once he was sure nothing was coming. And when he did, he slowly walked towards the bathtub.

The man didn’t respond to his approach. Maybe he couldn’t hear him? Or maybe he could, but... didn’t care.

“Um... are you...” Anti’s voice sounded hoarse, so he cleared his throat. “Are you... him? The guy who... lived here?”

Still, the man said nothing. His crying had died down a bit. But nothing else.

“I think... I think you are,” Anti whispered. “For a second, I, uh... I thought you were me, in a way. But I don’t think I ever cried in a bathtub. I didn’t cry a lot as an adult, hah.” He smiled sadly. “But, uh, to think that I thought that for a second. Just goes to show how... we...” He didn’t finish that sentence. It didn’t need to be finished.

The man still didn’t respond.

“Can you... hear me at all?” Anti asked quietly. “Or are you just a memory? Or—” He inhaled sharply. “—an echo? Th-this is some sort of magical echo chamber, after all?”

Silence. But the lack of an answer made that last guess seem the most likely.

“...Why are you here?” Anti wondered out loud. “I mean... we didn’t see you at all the last time we came here to rescue Marvin. Though... I think Stacy mentioned hearing voices? Are you just an evolved version of that? Did I... summon you or something?” He bit his lip, thinking back to how things were just before this echo showed up. “Because I was feeling... tired? Because I thought about how much I didn’t want to do something?” He paused. “That feels right to me. I mean, you don’t end up crying in a bathtub for no reason. You’re probably... feeling something like that too, huh?”

The sniffles died down completely by now, but the man still didn’t say anything. Or give any sign at all that he heard Anti.

“I don’t know why I’m talking to you,” Anti said quietly. “I’m not... I’m not good at this shit. Emotional connection and all that. I mean, I do alright with Will. But it’s different when it’s him. I... I know what he’s been through. He had a tough time of it before I met him, and it was... I knew about that shit.” He paused again. “Maybe... maybe I sorta know about this shit, too. It’s what I kept saying to Distorter. What he kept saying to me. That we’re... similar. And I know we are, it’s just...” He trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. “...different. To... see it. I mean... it’s hard to see it with Distorter, he’s so... consumed by evil and shit. But you... even if you’re just an echo... I... I get it.”

The man was unmoving. So still he could’ve been a statue, or perhaps a trick of the mind.

“...I think I want to help you,” Anti said quietly. “You, not... Distorter. Which makes no fucking sense, I know, you’re the same, but—but you don’t feel the same. Distorter’s made of whatever fucking weird ass magic does that to a person. You’re just... the person who was trapped here.”

As the man continued to sit there, Anti felt an urge to reach out and touch him. To put a hand on his shoulder. Was that even possible? He knew the man was an echo of some sort, so he probably wasn’t all there. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hand just passed right through him. But he wanted to try anyway.

Slowly, Anti leaned down, hand outstretched, reaching for the man’s arm. He prepared himself to withdraw soon when his hand passed through, since it felt disrespectful to wave it around inside this echo—

And then his hand made contact.

Just for a second. Anti gasped at the feeling of flesh and cloth beneath his fingers and palm.

The man whirled around, and suddenly Anti was thrown backwards, as if the air itself had flung him away.

“D́ON͟'T ͢L̵̕͟O͞O̵Ḱ̢ ̶M̡̪̫̙̩Ȩ̸̤̝̥̕!̴̝͕” A voice screamed.

The sound of it pierced Anti’s ears. It wasn’t just the volume, though the high-pitched shriek was painful in that way, too. No, it was the emotion in the voice. The pain, the rage, the sadness, the shame, concentrated into four words that slammed into him, going straight to his mind like a hammer pounding on a chisel with every syllable.

“Dude, do you have a CD in there?” Chase chuckled. “In this day and age?”

“I usually just listen to stuff on my phone, but yeah. Just in case the phone doesn’t work for some reason.”

“Well that was pretty cool music. I think I’ve heard it before, what was it?”

“System of a Down. But anyway.” Jack grabbed the steering wheel. “I’m gonna go pretty slow. You should feel it when you start reaching the end of your limit, just let me know and I’ll stop. Oh, and, uh... focus really hard on staying solid. I’ll be keeping an eye on you, but if you suddenly fall out of the car, I might not be able to stop for a bit.”

“Gotcha.” Chase gave him a thumbs up. “Okay, go.”

Jack started the car, backing out of the small driveway and getting onto the road. Since Jack would have to drive over to the Council building anyway, they wanted to take the opportunity to see how far Chase could go from the house now. It had been a while since he tested out that invisible tether tying him to his point of death. When it suddenly occurred to him to try again, he found that he didn’t feel that pull at all at his previously-established limit—that being the front yard of the house across the street. This made him curious, and, well, here they were. Why was he so nervous about this? What was he afraid of? Was he afraid of being stuck in the house? Of not meeting expectations? Or... of something else?

As promised, Jack went pretty slow, driving well below the speed limit, even for this quiet neighborhood. He took the straightest possible route away from the house, heading towards the city center. And frequently glanced into the rear-view mirror to check on Chase. “You know, uh, you could’ve sat in the passenger side.”

“Yeah, but like... somehow, I think that would’ve distracted you,” Chase reasoned. “Ghost guy in the corner of your vision? Seems distracting.”

“Ah, I got over that when I was fifteen,” Jack said jokingly. “You learn to live with it when you’re born with medium sight like this.”

They continued on for a while longer. Soon, they made their way out of the neighborhood and into the adjoining area, zoned for restaurants and small businesses. Chase’s anxiety increased. Why wasn’t he feeling that tether yet?

They passed a McReynold’s, the distinct golden M raised above the other restaurant signs. Chase remembered ordering from that place way too much during his recent life, when he was pouring his all into streaming. He probably should have taken better care of his health in life... but too late now—

And that’s when he was pulled out of the back of the car.

“Hey wait Jack—!” Chase gasped, passing through the back window and the trunk as the car continued driving while he stayed still. He stood still in the middle of the street (empty, though it wouldn’t have made much of a difference to him if there were a ton of cars passing through) and watched as Jack pulled into the McReynold’s parking lot and got out of the car. Jack looked at him and gestured for him to move over to the nearest sidewalk. Chase nodded and did so, following a straight line as he stayed at the absolute limit of the tether. As Jack approached, he said, “Well, now you’re gonna look like a crazy person, talking to no one in the middle of the sidewalk.”

Jack laughed. “Don’t worry, I have a plan.” He took out his phone and held it to his ear. “Now it looks like I’m taking a phone call.” A smile flashed across his face, but then he became more serious, tilting his head as he looked at Chase. “We drove... pretty far. I’m guessing this is your new limit?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded, pressing his hand to his chest, where he felt that pull back towards the house. “Um... so. How... normal... is this? For ghosts?”

“Well, uh... honestly?” Jack hesitated. “It’s different for almost every ghost, but... I feel like your limit suddenly jumped in a way that’s... uh, new to me.”

Chase sighed. That ball of anxiety squirmed in his stomach. This must have been what he was afraid of. More confirmation that he was different. “I guess it’s not a bad thing, right? I could, uh...” He looked around. “...if you ever want something from that Scent & Shower Works, I can grab some soap for you or something.”

Jack laughed. “You can try, but I think they’d be spooked.”

“I can do it on Halloween, then.” Chase grinned slightly, but his smile quickly fell.

“Everything okay?” Jack asked, concerned.

“I just... I’m thinking about what someone could’ve... possibly wanted from me,” Chase said quietly. “Why would they do... this?” He gestured at himself. “Like, what could my powers possibly do for someone?”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know. But I promise we’ll figure it out. Starting with tonight. Checking out the records the Council has will be a good starting point. Right?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded slowly. He mimicked a deep breath, steadying himself. “Alright. You keep on going. No, wait. Text Marvin first to let him know to summon me. No, wait. Tell him when you arrive. I’d rather walk around for a bit than stand around waiting for everyone.”

“Got it.” Jack nodded. “Honestly? Marvin might not be there yet, anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the first to arrive. I mean...” He looked into the dimming sky. “Schneep’s probably gonna leave soon, but he might wait a bit to be sure the sun’s down. So if he’s just leaving, it’ll definitely be a minute before we’re all there.”

“I figured. Man, you really don’t know how inconvenient vampires have it until you have to wait for the sun to go down.”

“Eh, Schneep could probably go out in this lighting if he had a hat or something,” Jack said. “But he’s not gonna. He’s cautious like that. Anyway. You’re just going to walk around until we’re ready to summon you? Are you... sure that’s what you want to do?” He still looked concerned.

“...yeah.” Chase gave him a slight smile. “It’s... been a while since I’ve gone on a walk. Especially in this area. I just want to check stuff out. Go on. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Jack nodded slowly. “I’ll see you in a few. Maybe half an hour.”

“Got it.” Chase gave him a thumbs up. “Now go on. Get off the phone and get in your car.”

Jack laughed and took his phone away from his ear. “See you soon, Chase.”

“See you.” Chase watched as Jack turned around and got back in his car. As he backed out of the parking lot, Chase waved. Jack waved back before heading down the street, leaving Chase alone in the area.

Chase looked around. Things were quiet in this area, though he did see a few pedestrians wandering about. There always seemed to be pedestrians on the streets in Scuabyrg. For a second, Chase wondered how many times he’d walked past someone and didn’t know they were a witch or a werewolf or something else. He wondered how many times he’d walked through a cold spot, unaware that he’d just walked through a ghost spacing out.

Deep in his thoughts, Chase wandered around the area before the others finally called for him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Scuabyrg City Hall was an older brick building, built some three hundred years ago or so. Its main shape was that of a massive cube, but with a low, wide triangle on top for the roof. But there were additional columns and three-dimensional window frames that stuck out, giving it more of a silhouette beyond that. All the buildings around it were generally more modern, with many of the most modern ones towering over city hall. But city hall itself did have a few updates to the older design. The steps were new, as was the ramp next to them, the clock in the roof had been added in the 50s, and there was a small concrete courtyard out front that was very recent.

Marvin, Schneep, and Jack waited in that small concrete courtyard, with Marvin standing up to cast the summoning spell while the other two sat on the edge of a cement planter holding a young tree. When Chase appeared in his usual way, they all waved. “Good evening, Chase,” Schneep said.

“Hah, you’ve never sounded more like a vampire.” Marvin snickered.

“Hey guys.” Chase waved back, then took a moment to look around. “Huh... you know, I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to city hall.”

“Really?” Jack tilted his head. “Never had a need to?”

“No, whenever Stacy and I had, like, legal stuff to do, we went to different places,” Chase said. “Like... I think we went to a courthouse to make sure our marriage license was all good... and, uh... we went there after, too. For... other stuff.”

“What about a driving license?” Jack asked, distracting Chase from his thoughts.

“Oh, uh, well I never had one—I mean, not for England. I had an American driver’s licenses from when I moved here... but that’s definitely really expired now, cause I stopped driving a while ago. Stacy mostly did that, and I don’t know where she went for her license... I’m assuming there’s a DMV or something here.”

“You do not know where your wife went for her driving license?” Schneep repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I mean, she told me whenever she had to go out to do stuff about it, but never specifically!” Chase said defensively. “And, uh, when Declan was born we did all his legal stuff in the hospital. And his school stuff in the school, obviously. My point is, I’ve never been here before, and it’s kinda funny that it took me dying to come here.”

“I think that’s funny, Chase,” Marvin said, taking care of the summoning circle.

“Thanks.” Chase nodded. “So, uh... what do we... do?” He looked around again. There were some cars parked in a nearby lot, and some people hanging out in the windows of surrounding buildings. No everydays in sight... yet. Inevitably, someone would appear. “Do we have to find a secret entrance or something?”

“Nope.” Jack shook his head and stood up. “Actually... we’re just going to walk right in.”

Chase blinked in surprise. “Huh.”

“Did not expect that, did you?” Schneep chuckled, also standing. “Clara will meet us inside. You will see how things go from there.”

“...secret floor in city hall?” Chase guessed. “Or secret basement?”

“Oh it’s cooler than that.” Marvin grinned. “Hard to explain, though. Uh... the Night Council and the everyday City Council kind of... exist in the same space.”

Chase didn’t bother to hide his confusion. What, like... there were just offices for werewolves and vampires next to offices for the treasury and parks departments? “Let’s just, uh... go inside. I think I’ll get it if I see it.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Jack agreed. He started walking towards city hall. “Come on. Stay close and invisible, Chase.”

The group headed towards city hall, walking straight up the steps and into a large reception room. It was rather plain in here, despite someone’s attempts to brighten it up with some paintings on the wall. Rows of plastic chairs with basic cushions filled the area, broken up by a few magazine racks along the walls, which had probably gone untouched for a long time. There was a large wooden reception desk, curving around to block off the corner, with a plastic shield attached to its worn surface. The young woman behind it was the only person in sight. She was on a laptop—probably her own personal device, since there was a monitor that had been pushed aside to make room for it—but she glanced up when the group walked in. “Hi,” she said cheerfully.

“Hello.” Jack smiled back and waved. “We have an appointment with Clara Berrycloth?”

Chase couldn’t hold back a surprised snort of laughter. What sort of last name was Berrycloth?

The young woman also looked confused, and a bit doubtful. “Uh, yes, of course. One second.” She pushed her laptop to the side and pulled a keyboard and mouse for the monitor closer, clicking and typing. “Oh! Huh.” She seemed surprised by what she saw, but nodded along. “Right. Just down that hallway over there. Meeting Room C.” She pointed to the left, where an archway led into a corridor leading further into the building.

“Thanks.” Jack nodded, and he headed that way with Marvin and Schneep. Chase took a second to follow, a little confused.

“...Chase did you laugh at her last name?” Schneep muttered under his breath.

“What? Uh, no!” Chase lied.

“He did, I heard it,” Jack said.

“Snitch,” Chase grumbled.

The group headed down a hallway—plain white plaster on the upper half of the walls, and yellowish wooden paneling on the bottom. Chase glanced around, looking for any sign of magical or mystical elements, but he found nothing but mediocrity in the popcorn pattern ceiling and the short gray carpet. The group passed a few doors with windows in the upper half, and Chase peered through to see more normal-looking rooms. Offices with two or more desks each, storage rooms full of filing cabinets, and meeting rooms with long tables. They kept going until they reached an intersection. To the right, the hallway continued, lined with more doors. To the left, the hallway ended in a pair of double doors labeled Meeting Room D.

“Uh... okay...” Chase said slowly, confused. He looked away from the obvious double doors, and saw two smaller, single doors on the walls to its left and right. The right was labeled Meeting Room E, and the left... Meeting Room C. “This all looks... very boring.”

“Give it a minute, Chase,” Marvin chuckled.

Jack opened the door to Meeting Room C and the group piled in. This was, indeed, a meeting room. One of the smaller ones, with two long plastic tables and folding chairs stacked to the side. It was mostly bare, so the few things that were in here stood out, like the large trash can and the projector sitting on a small wheeled cart in the middle of the room. Once everyone was inside, Jack turned on the lights and closed the door... and that’s when Chase realized that this door, unlike all the others, didn’t have a window in it. “Okay, who wants to do the honors?” Jack asked.

“Meeee!” Marvin hurried to the projector in the middle of the room. He crouched down to the ground, peering at the underside of the wheeled cart, reaching up and feeling along it... until he drew back, now holding a square piece of colored glass. It looked almost metallic, a coppery sheen on its surface. Chase moved closer, curious. Oh... the sheen was actually from a lot of tiny gold etching on the glass, small symbols that he couldn’t read.

Marvin then turned on the projector. Blue light shone towards the opposite wall, creating a square with some white words reading Input: HDMI 1. He carefully slid the colored glass in front of the projector lens, and that light changed radically. Now the square was bright white, lines of golden symbols crisscrossing the surface, forming a grid pattern with squares that got smaller towards the center as the lines got closer.

The outer edges of that square of white light grew fuzzy. The golden symbols began to move, at first twisting in on themselves and shifting designs individually. But then the lines began running, scrolling up and down and side to side. And as they scrolled faster and faster, the edges of the square grew fuzzier, and then started to expand, the white light creeping outwards. Until within seconds, that moving grid covered the entire wall, and then the other walls, and then the ceiling and the floor and the furniture itself! Chase’s eyes didn’t hurt from the brightness, but he closed them out of instinct as everything flashed bronze.

And then, when he opened them, Meeting Room C had changed. It was still the same dimensions, but now the walls were black, framed with wooden pillars in the corners with dark red finishing. Said columns branched out at the top, lines crossing the ceiling like branches, with bits of glowing white dots peeking through. Like the night sky in a forest. The floor, now made of smooth wooden planks in a herringbone pattern, was the same color. There were no long tables in the room, just chairs lining the sides, done in red upholstery. Small black tables sat in between each chair. In the center of the room, the projector was still there, but it now sat on a black marble table, a dark circle shot through with white veins. A couple of those colored glass squares were scattered across the surface.

“What the fuck?!” Chase gasped.

Marvin and Jack burst into laughter. “I knew you’d like it!” Marvin said cheerfully. He put the glass square he was holding down on the table with the others. “Welcome to the Night Council’s Scuabyrg Hall!”

“How—what—where—how?!” Chase spun in circles, taking in all the details of his new surroundings.

“The Night Council is sort of... overlayed on top of the normal everyday city hall,” Jack explained. “It’s called a...mirror spell, I think? Right, Marvin?”

“Yeah, basically, though this one’s been modified,” Marvin confirmed.

“Would it help to think of it like a pocket dimension, Chase?” Schneep asked.

“I... I guess...” Chase just kept staring. “How the fuck did a projector take us here?!”

“The spell’s all inscribed on these glass slides.” Marvin picked back up the one he’d used. “They just need a lot of intense light to activate them. Well, that, and an enclosed space. It wouldn’t work if the door was open, it would just take everyone in the hallway here, too! Anyway, the projector was perfect for that.”

“They used to use a very powerful flashlight,” Schneep recalled. “But it kept getting lost. For some reason, the everydays do not move the projector from the room as often as they would a flashlight.”

Chase gaped at the room for a second more, then shook his head. “Uh... well. I think... we should, uh, go to that... appointment. Thing. We had. We don’t want to keep your friend, uh, Clara waiting.”

Schneep grinned, showing off his fangs. “Right, right, of course. Let’s go. She’ll be expecting us in her office on the next floor up.”

The group left the room—walking into a much different, and much busier hallway than the one they’d left behind. Here, the walls were mostly black, but with the faintest swirls of other color, giving the whole place a shimmery effect and making it much lighter compared to the pure-black stone columns that occasionally broke up the wall, standing tall on the corners and around doors. The ceiling was alight with stars, swathes of them that glowed so brightly they lit up the darkness perfectly, like images from a fancy telescope had been pasted onto the ceiling. People bustled about here. Many of them looked fairly normal, but mixed in with business-casual men and women were animals—wolves, cats, and even blackbirds that swooped through the air—and... stranger creatures.

“Chase, come on!” Jack called. He and the other two were already heading down the hallway.

Chase followed, though he couldn’t help but look around at said ‘stranger creatures.’ There was a tall man with horns and batlike wings in one corner, his skin seemingly made of stone. And a figure hurrying by with the body of a woman but the head of a pumpkin. He even saw a pale, washed-out woman pass through a closed door and into another door on the opposite side of the hall. He couldn’t help but stop and stare for a solid few seconds after that happened. That was... another ghost, wasn’t it? His first glimpse of one other than himself.

Soon, though, they reached a set of stairs, traveling up them to the second floor—which was similar in design, though a lot less busy. The ceiling was also different, now looking like a field of purple-tinted clouds with arcs of lightning between them. That provided slightly less light than the stars, so there were some wall sconces on this floor, shaped like white flowers with dark black-purple veins and a center of the same color. The hallway extended to the left and the right. “Where’s your friend’s office, Schneep?” Marvin asked.

“Well,” Schneep said, turning left. The rest of the group followed his lead. “It should be right down—”

“Henrik!” A shout came from behind them.

“Oh, nevermind, it seems she is here to meet us,” Schneep said, turning the other way.

A short woman was hurrying down the hall towards them. Her skin had that notable gray tint that all vampires did, but it was partially hidden by the makeup she was wearing—skillfully and tastefully applied. Her mane of blonde curly hair gave most of the shape and definition to her otherwise slight frame, and she wore a sharp, dark purple suit with a lavender tie. “So sorry, you probably expected me in my office,” she said as she approached. Her voice had a pronounced, posh accent. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“No, of course not, we had only just arrived,” Schneep said. “Marvin here wanted to show off the projector entrance to Chase.” He nodded at each of them in turn. “Everyone, this is my friend Clara Berrycloth. Clara, this is Marvin Fletcher, Chase Brody, and... have you met Jack before?”

“I have not, but I believe I’ve heard of him. Jack McLoughlin, correct?” Clara held out her hand to him. “You’re a medium?”

“That’s me.” Jack smiled and shook her hand.

“Wonderful. It’s always good to meet one of you.” Clara also shook Marvin’s hand, and then turned to Chase, hand still extended. “Are you comfortable with a handshake, Chase, or is that still difficult for you?”

“Oh, no I, um... wait.” Chase realized something. “You can... see me? I’m not—I’m not trying to be seen.”

“Right, I suppose you wouldn’t know. The Night Council Hall is enchanted,” Clara explained. “With a few different ones, but the relevant one now is a Truesight area spell. There are no illusions in here, and anything—or anyone—invisible is revealed. Ghosts included. Doesn’t help much with the solidity, though, which is why I’m asking about the handshake.”

“...huh.” Chase nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah, we can shake hands.” He took Clara’s offered hand, and she shook his firmly. “Sorry if I seem... spacey or something, I’m just... new to this whole thing, still. And, uh... it’s a lot.”

“It can be very overwhelming the first time anyone steps into a place like a Night Council,” Clara sighed. “I remember it well. Things used to be very different, but the sheer amount of new things to see is... well, it’s always a constant.” She smiled gently, keeping her lips closed so she didn’t show off her fangs. “Do you need a moment?”

“No no, I can keep up,” Chase promised. “I just might be a bit quiet. But I-I know we’re here to... find out some stuff that can help me.” He straightened his shoulders. “So I’ll do my best to help.”

“Alright, but let me know if you need anything, alright?” Clara said. “Now come on. You all are at the stairs, and I was going to take you to the next floor anyway after we met. We can walk and talk on the way.” She gestured for them to follow her as she walked past them to the stairwell, climbing up.

The group followed. “Where are we going first?” Marvin asked. “Schneep said you’ll be able to help us find Patrol records and historical stuff that might help.”

“All of that is kept on the floor above,” Clara explained. “Ground floor is meeting rooms and day-to-day affairs, first floor is offices for representatives like me and other similar positions, second floor is for records of all sorts. Then the top is where we do the important stuff. Of course, it’s a lot more complicated than that, but that’s the gist.”

The next floor up—what Chase knew as the third floor, but what was apparently called the second—looked plainer than the ones below. Still dark, with walls covered in dark brown paneling. But the whimsical sky-based ceiling had been replaced with a black-and-purple tile design, and the patterned hardwood floors were covered up with a plain black carpet, the sort that was thin and short, like you’d find in an office. The hallways themselves were a bit wider, which confused Chase until the group had to pass a man pushing a cart full of boxes of folders. With carts like those, wide halls were necessary.

“Can you tell me a bit more what you’re looking for?” Clara asked as they walked.

“Well, Chase here was murdered the night of April 17th,” Jack explained. “Or... maybe very early morning on the 18th, we’re not entirely sure.”

“The time period ranges from 10:30 to 3 in the morning,” Schneep clarified.

“You mean Chase doesn’t know?” Clara glanced back at Chase. “Sorry, you don’t know what time you died?”

“No, I don’t remember any of it,” Chase said. “I know that’s unusual. A-and apparently I’m a pretty strong ghost, maybe unusually strong. Marvin thinks it’s because of this, uh... lingering spirit spell.”

“But even that doesn’t account for everything,” Marvin added.

“So you want to check the records for that night during that time period.” Clara nodded. “I understand.”

“And, uh, we want to know if there’s been anything... historically significant in this area,” Chase continued. “Anything that might have something to do with, uh, ghosts and other undead and all that sort of stuff.”

Clara nodded. “Well, the Patrol records are closer, so we’ll take care of that first.”

They arrived at a pair of double doors, slightly inset into the wall, made of wood with a reflective window in their upper half. Clara pulled it open, holding it and gesturing for the guys to go in first. The space beyond was... pretty much an ordinary-looking record room. There were rows of shelves and filing cabinets filling the space, contrasting the more old-fashioned-looking wood-panel walls. In addition to that, there were a couple desks in front, each one equipped with a flatscreen computer monitor, with matching mouse and keyboard. A single person sat at one of the desks, a man with salt-and-pepper hair whose eyes were locked onto one of the computer screens. When Chase looked closer, he realized the man’s eyes were pure black, but with strings of glowing... binary? Running up and down them.

“Hello, Jefferson, don’t mind us,” Clara said, choosing another computer. The man with the binary eyes raised his hand in greeting but didn’t say anything. “Alright, everyone, gather on here.”

Everyone crowded around the computer monitor. Jack laughed to himself. “You guys have better systems than my work does.”

“Well that’s a right mess for you, isn’t it?” Clara giggled. “Alright... the 17th, you said?” She powered on the computer, logged in, and opened up some sort of program with an icon of a filing cabinet.

“...this looks like a normal database,” Chase observed, watching as she adjusted some sliders to narrow a date range.

“Well, if it works, why change it?” Schneep reasoned.

“I just expected something more... fantastical, I guess?”

“What’s fantastical is that Jefferson there uses his computer witchcraft to instantly digitize the rows of paper copies we have here,” Clara said. “It’s really handy. But not flashy.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The database took a minute to load after the search. But once it did, there weren’t many results. Chase and the others leaned close to examine them. They were presented chronologically, from 10pm to 3am on the night of Chase’s death. Some minor incidents populated the results—apparently the Night Patrol still had to deal with noise complaints and dumb customers on top of whatever supernatural duties they had—but the one result that stood out was pretty early. “What’s that one?” Chase pointed at it.

“‘Investigation Report: Possible Hunter Spotting’...” Marvin read out loud. He inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Um... what?”

Clara clicked on it, bringing up what looked like a scanned image of a form, filled out by a Night Patrol volunteer. There was a typed transcription below it, which she scrolled to, and everyone went quiet for a bit as they read.

After a bit, Schneep began to summarize. “Residents on Ripley Avenue reported seeing a suspicious figure lurking around. Supposedly, a ghost in the area got close enough to examine the figure and saw he was armed. Later, gunshots were heard, and when a werewolf went to investigate, they reported the presence of silver in some of the bullet holes.”

“Holy shit...” Marvin muttered. “Wait, why haven’t any of us heard about this? Silver bullets? That’s... that’s big. That’s... monster hunting.”

The room seemed to get colder. “U-um, there, at the bottom.” Jack gestured. “It was all hearsay, anyway. The bullets weren’t recovered, a-and no one could detect silver. So... maybe it wasn’t really a monster hunter. Just... an everyday criminal, or something.”

“I am surprised Jackie didn’t know about this...” Schneep said quietly. “You would think rumors of silver bullets would spread through the werewolf community quickly. Even if they were not true.”

“We can ask him about it later,” Chase said quietly. “Um, more importantly... gunshots.” His hand drifted upwards towards his head. “That... can’t be a coincidence. Guns are illegal here, and you’re telling me that the same night people reported gunshots is the night I died?”

“Ripley Avenue is across the city from where you died, though, Chase,” Jack pointed out.

“Yeah, but... look at the time they were supposedly heard.” Chase gestured at the report. “Around 11:30. That totally falls into the time period where I probably died. I-I could totally see someone with a gun making their way across the city and getting to my house before 3 am, which is the latest I probably died.” He paused. “It still doesn’t explain why the hell a monster hunter would kill me, though.”

“Were you an everyday in the know, Chase?” Clara asked.

“No, not at all!” Chase shook his head. “I only found out about this world after I died.”

“Hmm... very odd...” Clara mumbled. She returned to the original database, and typed Chase’s full name into the search bar. Once the database finished loading, the only thing that showed up was a single file titled ‘Ghost Registration 18/04/2022’.

“Uhhh what’s that?” Chase asked.

“Oh, I did that,” Jack said. “Part of my job, I have to register any ghosts I find with the Council. It helps them to know where you guys are, just in case you need help or cause trouble.”

“Ah. You could’ve... told me you did that. Earlier.”

“Could’ve sworn I did...” Jack said quietly. “Anyway... I noted you were strong, but I don’t think I did much else... We didn’t know any of this stuff at the time.”

“Hm...” Clara pursed her lips together. “Chase, we definitely need to make a case file for you. Your death is... clearly strange. I can’t believe we haven’t done it yet. I’ll be making a note to send an undead representative to your place of haunting to talk to you.”

“What? We can’t do that now?” Chase asked.

“Clara doesn’t have the jurisdiction for that,” Schneep said. “She is a vampire representative.”

“I’m already doing a lot by giving you guys access to here,” Clara explained. “It’s annoying, yes, but it’s how we keep the peace here. By not stepping on any toes.”

“I’ll fill out some stuff once we get home,” Jack said. “Or, uh, I can help Chase fill out some stuff, if you’d prefer that, Chase.”

“Yeah, that sounds... better.” Chase nodded slowly. “Anyway, uh... can we... look for any of those historical records now?”

“You don’t want to look at any other Patrol records while we’re here?” Clara asked.

“Well, actually.” Marvin cleared his throat. “Do you guys know about a vampire called Anti?”

“Oh.” Clara made a face. “We’ve had reports about that man... personally, I’m hearing a lot from various vamps in the city. Do you want to look at the stuff we have for him?”

“Yes, please,” Marvin said. “He might... have something to do with all this.”

Clara went back to the search bar and typed in ‘Anti.’ The results that loaded in were spread out over the past couple months, many of them with the word ‘(Alleged)’ tacked onto the end. “Hmm...” Schneep leaned forward. “Look, there are the cases me and Jackie made. When my wallet was stolen, and when Jackie’s pack mate was attacked.” He pointed at them. “The earliest incidents, and some of the only confirmed ones.”

“That definitely reinforces our theory that Anti only started attacking randomly after Chase’s death..." Jack muttered.

They spent a few minutes looking through the files some more, but unfortunately, didn’t find much else. Just Anti’s usual pattern of attacking randomly. Chase asked to do another general search around the 17th, and Clara widened the search pool for a week before and a week after. But nothing new there, either. It seemed they’d learned everything they could from the patrol records.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to look at here, I can bring you to the historical record room,” Clara said.

“Aw, I don’t want to move,” Marvin said jokingly.

“Well, if you want to find out anything more, you’ll have to,” Clara chuckled.

Marvin sighed dramatically. “All this magic out there, and we still have to walk to places.”

“You have been standing in place, how is that much better?” Schneep muttered.

The group got up and made their way out of the room. While they walked, Jack lingered back, leaning close to Chase. “Hey... how are you holding up?”

“Huh?” Chase tilted his head in surprise. “Uh... I’m good. Why? Do I look... not good?”

“You look deep in thought,” Jack said. “I just couldn’t tell if those thoughts were...heavy or not.”

Chase sighed. “I mean... I guess a little heavy, yeah. I just... Even with all this research we’re doing, will we ever figure out... the why of it all? Because I think that’s what’s bugging me the most. Th-this whole thing makes no sense. I guess... JJ did mention that Anti might have beef with monster hunters, so it makes sense why he’s involved if they’re involved. But I don’t know why they’d be involved with me at all.” He paused. “Maybe I... stumbled into something that night. Or, uh, considering I died in my house, maybe it stumbled into me. And... that’s what happened. But it doesn’t explain everything. I... I want to know. I want to know so badly, Jack. And... I’m worried... that I’ll be different forever, and I’ll never know why.” Chase couldn’t cry as a ghost. But nonetheless, he felt the sensation of tears approaching, a phantom feeling left over from his life.

Jack reached up and gently rested a hand on Chase’s shoulder. It went through slightly at first, but he focused on making sure it was in the right place. “You’ll know, Chase. We’re all here to help you find out. And... even if it takes us a while... that doesn’t change how we feel about you, you know? I might’ve found you as a ghost, but you’re not just a ghost to me.”

Chase felt that sensation again. It was strange, to have his eyes start to well up, but not feel any of the tears that threatened to overflow. “Thanks, man. That... that means a lot.” He paused. “If... if this gets you guys in trouble... if we run into something that I stumbled on, something that got me killed... will you guys still be there?”

“Of course.” Jack nodded.

Chase felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “Okay. Okay. Good.” But even so, something remained unsettled in his stomach. “I... I don’t want you guys to, like... die for me, though, okay? Dying... sucks. So. Protect yourselves first, promise?”

Jack looked a bit surprised at that, but he nodded again, looking more serious. “I promise. And I’m sure the others will, too.”