#eh banshee

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The second time it happens, it’s in the most popular bar that Amity Park has to offer. To be totally honest, Danny doesn’t mean to be sucked into buying a drink, but a fight with Skulker landed him here, and one thing leads to another. He doesn’t even know why he stayed.

Maybe it’s because the bartender is nice to the exhausted halfa, or maybe it’s because he wants just one night to be a normal teen and do stupid things. He figures that Sam and Tucker will forgive him for this.

He doesn’t get fully drunk, just a bit tipsy, though he doesn’t know if that’s because he doesn’t want to or because he can’t. His eyes wander over to the fellow that’s slouched at a table behind him, a fellow that’s barely coherent. The guy takes a long sip of his drink, and drool dribbles down his chin and onto the table. Danny swirls his own drink, and the other guy behind him slumps over, dropping his glass and smacking his head against the wood.

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Once is a happenstance, twice is a coincidence, three times is enemy play, as they say.

The third time it happens, it’s different. It’s not quiet, like the second time, or long and painful like the first, but quick and like lightning.

Danny flies past the town hall, like he does almost every night, and stops in his ghostly tracks. His tail splits apart, his feet touching down on rough and cracked concrete. The city lights flicker in the distance, but Danny’s attention is solely focused on the town hall.

Something is. wrong.

here.

Danny eventually tears his attention away and flies home.

He doesn’t get much sleep that night. He thinks he knows what’s going to happen.