The Slash Of Truth: The Whispers From Under The Bed

131#

18:24pm.

The Fruit Family Household.

Dear Diary.

I can’t trust Clutch. I don’t like the look of him, I don’t like his attitude towards his missing son, it angers me how much empathy he lacks, he’s a sociopath. Yet, despite my dislike of him, I can’t definitely say he was the one who has taken Cherry but, he’s up there at the top. Yet, I think I’m over hating a bit. He’s a father too, I’m sure under that unfazed look on his face is stress upon stress.

Dime however didn’t hide her distress or miserable state. Helly hasn’t left her alone no matter how many times she was told to leave her alone. Eventually, Dime started to open up to Helly, I don’t know what they were talking about but, seeing them chuckle did bring a smile on my face. They are not friends yet but, they are on talking terms. It’s good to see Helly hasn’t changed, always trying to brighten up people’s moods regardless of her pain. I think it is benefiting Helly too more than anything. Talking to me is good and all but, she is easily bored when I ramble on about literally anything, so it’s good that she has someone else to talk to in these dark times.

I’ve been thinking about the absence of Cherry, asking myself question over and over again as if the answer would fly in my head and solve everything. It’s stupid but, the more I did, the more I asked myself different questions. Why was it my daughter of all people? What was the point of taking her? It could be completely coincidental or was it deliberate? The begs the question, who would want to take my daughter? Of course, I have enemies, enemies who would love to see me suffer.

There’s the ESORG (Equestrian Society of Overseas Research Group.) An organisation that I was a part of but, thanks to my curiosity they planned to be removed with discrimination and efficiently – in other words, dead.

The Zikr Tribe, a tribe that live on a forgotten island, so forgotten that the island wasn’t renamed back in the human era. The Sentinelese Island. I highly doubt that they are responsible considering they have never left the island but, it took me back to a trip of memory lane, I wonder if they still want to rip out my organs and sacrifice me in honour of their god. It’s a shame, I thought we had a good thing going.

Then, there’s the Iloxisy Cult, the one I fear the most and could be responsible with there bloody voo-doo magic stuff. I think my time of running has caught up to me, I took something of theirs and now, they have something of mine. What scares me more is that they are an extremist group, they don’t care if it is a man, woman or child, they do severe things to recruit – even torture among other gruesome methods. I hope that is not the case, as dark as it may sound, with all the stories I heard about this sadistic group, I’d rather my own daughter to have a quick death than suffer the things they would do to her.

That’s it really, everyone that wants me dead. Well, there is my high school bully, Iron Bar, a right twat with an ego as big as Manehattan’s radio tower and an ex-boyfriend to my wife, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why he wants me dead but, I really doubt it is him. I haven’t seen him in years. Plus, he’s not the type to kidnap someone, he’s a coward like that.

Something still bugs me about the disappearance, how did he or she escape with Cherry? The only answer here is magic I can imagine but, with very little of it, that can’t be the case, could it? There is no explanation for it other than magic, I was literally at the door when her screams faded drastically. It’s rather that they teleported – which is impossible – or she never left. Is there more to this house that I don’t know about? is this house carrying secrets that I don’t know about? and if that’s the case, it would have to be someone or a certain family that have stayed here for years and knows the lay out and its secrets. The note, it was in Dime’s and Clutch’s room. Do they know? If that’s the case, the boy in my hallucination was right. Solve the riddles and find my daughter. Is that what that boy from under the bed meant? If that’s so, should I be concerned about Shasha? the man that killed me in my hallucination? If that’s so, I better be prepared for anything.

“I remember when little Feather Flit was a menace, the energetic little devil would always play pranks on Clutch and me, smiling sweetly as if he was innocent.” Dime chuckled under her breath, trying to keep her professionalism in front of Helly. Helly chuckled along too. Dime and Helly were getting along in the mansion’s built-in bar sitting next to each other with a glass of wine in front of them.

“I know what that’s like, mostly because I’m the biggest kid in my family. If I’m not annoying my husband or daughter, I’m pulling jokes on them.” Helly replied, scratching the back of her head with a sheepish smile. Dime took a sip of her beverage.

“A fun mother you are then, my son would have enjoyed your company. If you are as energetic as he is, I would be growing grey hairs.” Dime sighed, rubbing her face slightly at the thought of Helly and Feather together. “I hope he is okay.” She murmured. Helly frowned at that.

“I’m sure both Cherry and Feather are safe and sound wherever they are. We just need to keep the faith and hope that they both come back soon.” Helly chimed in, her hand wrapped around Dime’s shoulder. “Everything will be fine.”

“How can you be so sure?” Dime looked over to Helly, the bags under her eyes saying it all.

“I don’t know for sure but, losing hope just means that you’ve given up. I’ve not given up, not in the slightest, not until I have my baby girl in a big hug.” Helly said with determination, Dime listening closely. “Arctic is working his ass off looking for Cherry, he’ll never give up, he's not a give-up type, he’s not one to sit around and wait for someone else to do the job. He’s too prideful to do nothing.” Helly chuckled, taking a sip of her red wine.

“You think he’ll find her?” Dime asked.

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

“Helly!” A certain earthling asked, the two turning to see Arctic walking quickly over to Helly.

“Oh, babe, what’s up?” Helly managed to get out before he leaned down to her ear.

“Find out what the last two riddles are.” Arctic whispered, passing over the riddled note secretly. “I’m onto something.” Arctic said before leaving just as quickly as he arrived, leaving Helly and Dime baffled. Why couldn’t Arctic say that out loud? Doesn’t he trust Dime?

“What was that about?” Dime asked, not seeing the note that was given to Helly.

“Nothing—listen, I’ve got to take care of something, thank you for the wine and I’ll see you soon.” Helly said with a smile, standing up and leaning to give Dime a hug that took her off guard. Before Dime could speak, Helly walked away up the stairs.

In the room that Helly walked in, she didn’t waste any time as she headed straight towards the desk with the coffee machine on top. Planting her behind down in the seat, she unfolded the note and laid it flat on the desk. Immediately, her hand balled into a fist and her chin rested on it, looking at the first riddle.

John noticed that the amount he was paying for his lunch was a rearrangement of the digits of the amount of money he had in his pocket, and that the money he had left over was yet another rearrangement of the same three digits! How much money did John start with?

Helly’s mind was melting just at the looks of this riddle, she sighed at the realisation that it was numbers. How do you solve a riddle of numbers when there are no numbers in the riddle? Knowing Arctic, he saw it was a number riddle and passed it on to Helly, Arctic was never good with numbers no matter how smart he is. Helly had a better chance of getting a higher mark on a math test. It’s that bad.

Helly shuck her head at her husband’s bad spell in math and mulled over the riddle inside her head. This maybe a math problem but, she excels in puzzles like this, this shouldn’t be any different than another other hard riddle, all she had to do is put her mind to it. Yeah, no biggie…

A half an hour and a cup of coffee later…

Helly was fucking losing her mind over this god-forsaken riddle. She knew she wasn’t the best with numbers but, she just couldn’t wrap her head around this riddle. All she knew was that the answer was a three-digit number and the person’s name is John. Helly rubbed her temple with force, feeling a strong urge to finish this note off once and for all. Helly now knew why he pinned this onto Her.

She got up in a huff, she needed to get some air. Walking over to the room’s window, she pushed open the window with effortless ease, feeling the breeze waft against her heated face. She leaned against the windowsill, taking in the cold air with a deep inhale as she felt her eyes droop. She has done nothing all day but stressing over her daughter constantly is testing her mentally, not to mention the riddle that Arctic asked her to solve. Why was it all of a sudden important? What did he mean by ‘he’s onto something?’ Does he know what happened to Cherry? She hoped that was the case. Her thoughts were interrupted by a door opening, she turned expecting to see Arcty but, her brow raised when she saw Detective Shepard standing in the doorway.

“Sorry to bother you… Helly is it?” Shepard asked, making Helly smile slightly.

“Yes, that’s me.” Helly answered, turning her whole body to face him. “What’s up, Detective? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yes actually, do you know where Detective Sweetpea is? I can’t find her and she’s not picking up her phone.” Shepard said, his eyes looking around for detail. Helly frowned slightly.

“No… The only time I have seen her today was this morning at breakfast, other than that, I can’t help you.” Helly said, making Shepard sigh.

“Okay… thank you for your time anyway.” Shepard murmured, turning to leave but, Helly quickly stopped him.

“Wait!” Helly called out, making Shepard look over his shoulder with an inquisitive look. “I was wondering if you could help me out with something?” Helly said, walking over to the desk and showing him the note of old. Shepard’s brows raised in surprise, seeing the old note.

“What’s this?” He asked, quickly scanning through the note with a glance, taking the questions into consideration. He looked up Helly with an inquisitive look.

“Nothing too special, just a bunch of riddles and I can’t figure out the last two.” Helly murmured with a winning smile. Shepard looked at his watch and hummed for a second.

“Sure, let’s make this quick, I still have a case to solve.” Shepard said, sitting on the side of the bed and narrowing his brows slightly. He read over the question a few times, trying to get an understanding of what this question wanted. Bringing out his notebook, he started jotting down some three-digit numbers.

“What are you doing?” Helly asked, looking over his shoulder at the numbers being written down with interest.

“Well, it says that John started with a three-digit number, so the money can be written with just three digits — so it must be between $1.01 and $9.99. It also says that the number he has and what he has to pay for only being same numbers but readjusted, however, the money he had left is another readjustment of the money he had and the price. So, with trial and error, all I have to do is add the price to the money John had left and that would give me the answer to how much John had in the first place. Did you get that.” Shepard asked, looking over to Helly. She didn’t answer, her eyes were wide and drool running down the side of her lip. Shaking her head as she realised that Shepard was staring, she rubbed the back of her head.

“Sorry, big words and complicated sentences fly over my head. Next time, just say it’s too complicated and I’ll forget I ever asked. Being a nerd isn’t my thing, you see.” She laughed nervously.

“What’s your pretty little head doing solving riddles then?” Shepard raised a brow.

“Anything to take my mind of the fact that my daughter is gone with bad people that could be doing anything to her. I’m terrified that I’m not going to see her again, y’know.” Helly sighed, her face downtrodden.

“We’ll find your daughter, its only a matter of time until I find something.” Shepard reassured as he continued writing numbers down. It was silent after that, all conversation was lost to the sound of pen on paper. Helly got a piece of paper and a pen of her own and started doing what he was doing. Thanks to the extra support, Shepard eventually got it in a short amount of time.

$9.54 = $4.59 + $4.95.

“Finally, thank god that’s finally done. I thought I would never see the day.” Helly joked, flopping backwards on the bed. “Shall we move on?”

“Lets…” Shepard replied, his coat off and a ciggy in one hand.

Double my number, I’m less than a score, Half of my number is less than four. Add one to my double when bakers are near, Days of the week are still greater, I fear.

“That—makes—no sense.” Helly deadpanned, feeling her head pulse from just saying the rhyme in her head.

“Aye, it’s a bit of a handful to make sense of it but, I can narrow the answer down being 6, 4 or 2.” The detective murmured with his hand on his chin.

“And how did you figure that out? Helly asked, generally confused. Pulling the notebook closer, she took a look.

“Well, when it says ‘double my number, I’m less than a score’ it just means that the number is less than 20. 20=score, don’t ask me why, it just is. Also, ‘half my number is less than four,’ you don’t need to be a genius to figure that out. As for the rest… I’m still trying to figure that out.” Shepard muttered, scratching the end of his pen at the end of his bearded chin.

“That’s—wait… I got it!” Helly stood up, a bright smile on her face. “It’s 6!”

“And what makes you say that?” Shepard said, raising a brow at the sudden outburst.

“Well, as you said, it's rather 6, 4 or 2 and when you said that 20=score, that got me thinking on that next part. ‘Add one to my double when bakers are near.’ Bakers… when I was young, my mammy would always use confusing stuff like a brace, half a dozen, a score, a gross, and a baker to represent numbers. I never understood what she was saying until I asked her one day. A baker dozen is 13, take one off it, you get 12, half that and you get 6! I’m a fucking genius!” Helly squealed, getting giddy from this stroke of luck. She mentally thanked her mam.

“Thank you for the help, Shepard. I owe you one.” Helly said, taking Shepard by surprise with a tight hug, almost breaking his back. Helly left the room, leaving a flushed Shepard sitting there. He couldn’t remember a time he was hugged like that; it was nice.

After passing on the cursed riddles to Helly, (Sorry Helly) he planned to go straight towards the library. There has to be more about this Shasha figure and Tangerine’s secrets in the library, it would be illogical not to have more information. Tangerine isn’t the type to leave an unknown name in the so-called ‘Last Test’ note, there has to be more to that name, more to Tangerine and if he was right about Cherry not leaving in the first place, this could lead to her.

“Yo, Arctic. Whoa, what’s got you in a hurry?” Detective Sweetpea asked, walking the opposite way to Arctic.

“I think I’m onto something, come with and I’ll fill you in.” Arctic said, walking passed in stride, taking Sweetpea off guard. Curiously, Sweetpea followed with a questioning gaze.

“Sooo, where are we going?” Sweetpea asked, matching his fast stride down the corridor.

“The library, I need to do a bit of research on this mansion, I just need to check something out.” Arctic murmured, seeing the door to the oak, decaying door to the library. Opening it, Arctic stepped aside for Sweetpea to step in. “Ladies first.” Arctic said, watching as Sweetpea looked at him like he had ten heads.

“Uhm, what are you doing?” She asked, tilting her head with a raised brow.

“I was going to let you in first but, you missed your chance.” Arctic shrugged, walking into the unkempt room. As soon as he walked in, he got that feeling again, feeling the cold temperature rise and feeling the air get heavier. Is this the feeling of magic?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Arctic! Where did you go!?” A frantic Sweetpea exclaimed, looking through the doorway but with great confusion.

“Come on, detective. We haven’t got all day.” Arctic called out, making Sweetpea step backwards by his voice. Why was she acting so strange?

“Hurry up, just walk in.” Arctic said with annoyance, walking back out and making her jump in surprise. “Why are you so jumpy?” Arctic asked, crossing his arms.

“Arctic… You walked through a solid wall… How did you do that?” She blurted out, flailing her arms at the wide-open door hysterically. Arctic narrowed his eyes, looking back towards the door and her with questioning glances.

“Are you okay, detective? The door is literally right there.” Arctic said, flipping the thumb behind him.

“No there isn’t, it’s just a wall.”

“Wait, a wall? You can’t see the door?” Arctic asked, giving her a sceptical look. What is going on here? Is this magic? If that’s the case, why can I see the door? That explains why the library is a shambles. Huffing slightly, Arctic grabbed her hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

When the detective was forced through the rippling wall, she gasped as coldness enveloped her body, looking around in awe at the multiple, tall bookshelves. “Jesus… This mansion has been hiding a library this big?” She murmured, taking in the rows on rows of books with dust and webs all over them.

“It wouldn’t be Tangerine’s mansion if he didn’t have a library.” Arctic added, walking deeper in.

“So, this Tangerine fella… why are you so interested in him? Is he your idol or something?” Sweetpea asked, following him.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that to be specific, he’s my ancestor with my secrets and wealth tucked away somewhere. What’s not to idolise?” Arctic replied, taking a turn down an alley of books.

“Is that why you’re here? To dig out his secrets and wealth? What makes you think that the Flit Family hasn’t got it already?” She asked, running her fingers on the rows of books, making dust and webs fly off, leaving lines on her fingers.

“If they had hold of that wealth, they wouldn’t be here, they would probably be owning their own island right now.” Arctic said nonchalantly, making Sweatpea stop and stare, her eye twitching a bit.

“That much, huh.” She said with slight amazement and a hint of envy. “I’m sure you could spare some change once you find it, you know, enough to live the rest of my life comfortably.”

“Find my daughter and you name the price, that’s all I ask for,” Arctic replied, brushing off the filth to read the book’s names on the shelves, feeling the leathery texture.

“That reminds me, what makes you think that Cherry never left?” The detective asked, crossing her arms.

“Well, do you have a better theory? Shepard said that there is no way that Cherry could have been taken without leaving or being spotted by security cameras so… What if she never left?” Arctic explained simply, making Sweetpea hum.

“So you're on the same track as Shepard, he immediately knew that your daughter couldn’t have possibly left from the time that you arrived at the scene. As you said, the windows were locked, and the cameras had caught nothing. The only real explanation is that she never left.” Sweetpea said, eyes narrowing.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Arctic scolded.

“Because we didn’t want the person that actually did this to overhear us. As much as Shepard hates to say it, he thinks it’s either Clutch or Dime.” She explained, making Arctic nod slightly.

“Okay but, if that’s what he thinks, why haven't they been under arrest?” Arctic said, turning to look at her with a serious look.

“To keep a low profile on the investigation. It’s risky but, Clutch and Dime is rich as you should know and have powerful connections in the police and in politics. He’d be out before you could even say blueballs. We’ve done it a few times in the past so, we need proof before anything.” Sweet explained, making Arctic nod and proceed to walk.

“Makes sense, what is Shepard up to now then?” Arctic asked, turning the corner to see a familiar table and chair.

“That’s classified. As much as you are a victim of your daughter being taken, we can’t tell you everything but, we will find her. That reminds me, what are we researching?”

“To find where my daughter is of course. If there is some sort of secret passageway or clue to where she is, I’ll find it here.” Arctic responded, sitting in his seat. He picked up the logbook he was reading last night, he picked up where he started.

“Why am I here then? I’m more of a meathead than a reader.” Sweetpea chuckled, leaning against the table.

“Don’t read then, just look around the room for books that might lead to his secrets.” Arctic replied, making her huff.

“You’re sounding more and more like Shepard by each day.” She said before wondering off. It was quiet after that, no talking between Arctic or Sweetpea as Arctic was headfirst in the book and Sweetpea wonder off every minute before passing a that looked interesting to her. After an hour, Sweetpea go bored and started reading books to Arctic’s amusement. Everyone claims to not be much of a reader until they get bored. Its ironically funny to him. With time flying by, Arctic had continued when he left off. Turns out, after Tangerine’s retirement, his happy family was discovered somehow. It was unknown who found out but, that’s when things started to go down hill for him. Death threats, windows being stoned, the verbal abuse when Tangerine went into town. It only goes worse as pictures of Tangerine, Zorku, Zoro, Sunny, Strawberry all together as a family was presented in the media, discriminating the archaeologist for bedding a zebra woman. The last page in his diary went on to say that there was an attempt on his life after the tragedy that fell upon his family. He came home one day to see the house ablaze, fire raging out of every window and door, smog twirling out of control. Tangerine ran in only to see three bodies hanging from the mansion’s banister. His last words in this diary were odd however, who say ‘1342’ at the end? What does these numbers even mean? It’s so bizarre but, knowing Tangerine, it has to mean something.

“UGHH! This is so boring~. Have you found anything yet?” Sweetpea groaned, leaning against the table once again. Suddenly, Arctic felt the table tilt slightly, hearing it creek.

“Wait, detective, get off the—”

Before Sweetpea could get the message, one of the legs of the table gave out and came tumbling down with Sweetpea, creating a dust cloud on impact. Both Arctic and Sweetpea coughed up their lungs as the cloud started to fade.

“…table.” Arctic finished off, letting out a few more coughs before staring at Sweatpea who lay on the remains of what was the table that Tangerine use to read at. It was irreplaceable… And now… It’s nothing but timber.”

“Fuck tables.” Sweetpea groaned, her back sore as she rolled off the debry.

“You know, I could have sold that at an auction. Wave Tangerine’s name around and bids would have been flying left, right and centre.” Arctic sighed.

“I stand by my word… Fuck tables.” She muttered before standing up, brushing herself off. Before Arctic could scold her more, he noticed something in the wreckage. Another note? No… it was a news article taped to the underside of the table. Arctic didn’t waist anytime as he picked it up, reading the bold title being the first thing he saw.

FIRED UP CULTURE CLASH!

At dusk, there have been major reports of a fire in the Goodison Forest area where a mansion has been set ablaze by a group of locals that have been taken by the authorities and detained for questioning. During the slowly spreading fire, it is believed that Tangerine, his zebra and their offspring have passed away due to this fire. As it stands, the criminals will be in trial and sentenced for their crimes. These criminals being Jordan, Jack and Charlie that are a part of a gang. Humans that had allegedly stole from the noble’s home and killed Tangerine’s family to not be discover, burning The Fruit Family Household to erase any evidence. With the investigation still active but, no where near finished as Detective Rupture describe this case as ‘complicated in more ways than one.’

With the illegally immigrated zebra being another investigation all together, the work keeps piling up for the HPD—

“Damn… your ancestor had it rough.” Sweetpea said, looking over Arctic’s shoulder with an interested look. “Wait… If the fire had killed Tangerine and his family. How the hell is the article here? In fact, who brought it here?... Arctic?” Arctic didn’t respond or hear what she said, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the picture on the newspaper. It was a picture of the family but, the only person he looked at was Tangerine. Slowly, he started to grip the article tightly and started to shake at the unforgiving sight. Tangerine… He was wearing a black trench coat, a red scarf and a top hat… He was the one that stabbed me… was that—Tangerine?

“Arctic!” Sweetpea exclaimed, giving him a smack around the head. “Don’t make me put you in an armbar!” She warned and immediately, he stood up, not because of the threat but because he heard a book fall down one of the lanes of bookshelves which Sweetpea heard too.

“Who’s there?” Sweetpea barked, looking down the airy, dark lane. Arctic however could only freeze up on the spot as he looked in the direction of the sound of the falling book to see the last thing he thought he would see. Suddenly, the room had just gotten colder.

It was that boy from under the bed…

He was peaking around the corner, his red eye looking back at him with as much fear as Arctic had. A ghost, that’s the most reasonable explanation Arctic could come up with in his time of being paralysed. Sweetpea was losing her patience however, her hand resting on her concealed weapon.

“Stay here, I’ll check this out.” Sweetpea murmured, being the first to step forward but, she was quickly stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“Wait, he’s right there.” Arctic said, Sweetpea noticing his shaky voice as his eyes never left the direction he looked. She squinted her eyes but, she couldn’t see anything.

“Where?” She asked, looking down the same lane he was. Arctic looked at her.

“There, he’s down there.” He pointed, making the ghost shy away a bit.

“Arctic, no one is there.”

“She can’t see me~.” A familiar faint voice spoke, sounding as if he was whispering in his ear yet, he was so far away. His blood went cold at the childish voice. He looked between the dead boy and Sweetpea with fear.

“She can’t see you… Why?” Arctic asked, making the detective turn to him.

“Huh?” She muttered questioningly.

“I don’t know… but you are the only person to hear my warnings… You can see me~.” He whispered, sending shivers down his spine.

“Arctic, what’s going on? You’re weirding me out here.” Sweetpea said, uneasy by Arctic's strange reaction. Why was he sweating?

“I-I think I can see ghosts.” Arctic replied, earning Sweetpea to look back with scrutiny.

“Really… Now’s not the time for games.”

“I’m being deadly serious. There is a little zebra boy peaking around the corner of the shelf.” Arctic said with all seriousness, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

“Solve the riddles… find that boy… Save him… Please~.” The hollow voice of the boy said, slowly coming out from behind the bookshelf to show more of his gruesome body. His clothes were burnt, barely concealing the blistered skin, coming out in his decaying feet that made no sound on the wooden floors, the zombie-ish sight making Arctic gulp. “He has your daughter~.”

That made him stiffen, his theory was right, she was still here but where exactly? “Where can I find her?” Arctic blurted out, making the creeped-out Sweetpea jump at the sudden shout. The claims of seeing a ghost only put her nerves on end. Sweetpea didn’t know if Arctic was slowly losing it or if there is something down there that she can’t see… Just like she couldn’t see the door.

“Okay… I’m gonna leave you two to talk… I’m-I’m just gonna—you know, get some fresh air.” Sweetpea said carefully, stepping back from the situation at hand.

“Solve the riddle… it will lead you to her~.” The ghost said, taking little steps towards Arctic. What the ghostly figure did say brought another question up.

“What do you know about Shas—”

“Don’t speak its name~!” The ghost of the boy said quickly. “Never say its name… it can hear you~.”

Arctic quickly zipped his gob, feeling a lump at the back of his throat. What would have happened if he did utter that name? “You keep saying ‘it’ as if it is some sort of monster that had my daughter. The last time we met, you said that ‘it’ was here but, when I turned, it was just Tangerine. Is he… it?” Arctic asked, feeling his skin crawl at the revolution.

“No… My father is dead… What roams this mansion is much, much worse… it isn’t a being… It is a spirit that can take hold of a being body and manipulate it at will~.” The boy said, picking up the book the book that had fell. “My father has written about all the artefacts he had taken in this book… read… it will tell you everything my father knows about the artefact that the spirit lives in… it responds to your—” the boy’s body went still mid step, his face scarred face moulding into a face of terror.

“It’s here~.”

*BANG!*

Suddenly, Arctic spun around as a shot rang out somewhere in the library, followed by a grunt of pain. Quickly, Arctic looked back to the ghost but, he was gone, leaving the book by his feet. Quickly picking it up, Arctic didn’t waste any more time and ran towards the struggle. His heart raced faster and faster with each bend he turned, hearing the detective’s pained groans. When he turned the final corner, Arctic’s heart skipped a beat at what he saw. A black trench coat form was on top of Sweetpea, a knife pointed at the eye of the detective as she tried with all her strength to push back against it, her hand being impaled, blood dripping down.

Arctic didn’t waste any time pulling out his pistol but, his hands shook slightly under the intense scene. “Stop!” Arctic barked, hoping to catch Its Attention but, it didn’t waver as the knife slowly sunk lower towards Sweetpea’s wide eye. “I said stop! Where is my daughter!?”

“Shoot!” Sweetpea cried out, feeling her strength weaken. “I can’t hold him much longer!” She exclaimed, grunting in pain. That was all the encouragement Arctic needed before firing his gun twice, the first one hitting home in his shoulder and the other striking the knife-welding arm, weakening his grip. That was all Sweetpea needed to push him up with her feet and using his arm with her two hands, she twisted his body off of her, dislocating his arm in the process. Arctic rushed over and helped the detective to her feet.

“Are you okay?” Arctic asked, grimacing at the new, lengthy hole in her hand, covered in blood.

“Yeah, I’m fine, let’s just—” Her sentence stopped as she looked over to where the man with the top hat was but, he was gone. “Where did he go?” Sweetpea said carefully, looking around her for her attacker.

“I don’t know but, you are in no shape to fight. Let’s get you out of here before he comes back.” Arctic murmured, his pistol at the ready and book held tightly. The detective felt like she could keep fighting but, she knew if she kept fighting the blood loss would be her downfall so, reluctantly she followed.

Each step they took was slow and thorough, focused on their surroundings, feeling the heavy, cold air drown them in tension. Arctic had never used a gun before, he never had the guts to bring one on his adventures or quests, it seemed too extreme for his tastes but, when his family was involved, he didn’t have a problem using it. He couldn’t waver, not now while his daughter is still somewhere in this mansion and his wife being vulnerable.

Sweetpea was slowly feeling the pain in her hand as her adrenaline tank was running low, small blood splatters leaving a trail behind her. This is bad, with a maniac running around this library, she knew they were lost, sitting ducks, slowly making their way out. In that little fight, she noticed two things about her attacker. One was that he had to be a male earthling as he nearly equalled her strength, she could only thank her past self for her martial arts and time in the gym. The second thing she noticed was his eyes.

They were black…

Without warning, Arctic and Sweetpea noticed the giant shelf started to creek and tilt slightly, making them hold their breath.

“Run!” The detective commanded, running right passed Arctic. Arctic had to slide in a last-ditch attempt to not be crushed by the bookshelves, escaping the death trap by inches which caused a domino effect as the rest of the selves in its way collapsed with it, dust and debris flying everywhere, blurring their vision.

“This is bad.” Arctic huffed holding the book against his chest while he pointed his gun everywhere nervously.

“Just calm down, stick together and we’ll get through this. Just follow my lead.” Sweetpea said calmly, pressing her back against his as she was seemingly confident on the outside but on edge on the inside.

They stood there, listening carefully as the last of the falling bookshelves fell with a crack of its wood. After that, silence… Arctic couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing in his ears, and see nothing but the ashy cloud in front of him, it was terrifying to him to be blinded and deafened while a murderous spirit thing is after us.

A crack of wood was heard beside them and instantly both Arctic’s and Sweetpea’s pistols whipped around in the direction, sweat dripping from their heads. A footstep behind Arctic made him turn and readjust his aim. Shasha was circling them, toying with them, feeding the fear factor tremendously as Sweetpea wasn’t too sure of herself anymore, panting more and more with each dreadful second that passed.

“Arctic… where the hell is the exit to the place.” Sweetpea said breathlessly, her mind racing as she tried to track the movements of her tormentor, his outline vanishing with each second of spotting him.

“I-I don’t bloody know.” Arctic replied, disoriented by this chain of events that had him shook to his core. Suddenly, Arctic’s heart dropped as the pressure on Sweetpea’s back was gone, a crashing sound of wood behind a second later. He turned to see the detective on the floor, groaning in pain as she was slumped but, the black form of Shasha was nowhere to be seen. Arctic rushed over to Sweetpea, crouching down to see her scrunched face.

Shit, she is badly hurt. I need to get her out of here…

Arctic barely reacted in time as he saw in the corner of his eye a swinging kick heading straight for his head. His arm cushioned the blow but, he blocked it with his armed arm, making Arctic drop his pistol as the damage that was done was great, Arctic flew back, skidding backwards on his back. Quickly, Arctic made his way back up, shaking his arm of the pain that slowly grew. Arctic only stared at the black form of Shasha, hearing his own heart race in his ear as he stood there, slumped slightly, his breathing untamed. The same could be said for the trench-coated figure as one side of his arm was slumped, blood pooling out of his shoulder and arm, his arm and hand limp. The two just stood there, gazing at one another, analysing each other.

“You took my daughter, didn’t you.” Arctic spoke first, slowly getting his breath back. Shasha didn’t speak, he just stared passively as he slowly looked down towards Arctic’s gun. Arctic’s eyes widened in realisation. Arctic ran at the possessed body of the spirit as it went to pick it up, when Arctic was in punching distance, only then did Arctic realise his mistake as he wasn’t going for the gun, he was baiting Arctic to get closer as the Shasha’s arm moved into an uppercut motion, the knife in his hand. Arctic was paralysed as he could taste iron, feeling the prick of the knife poke the top of his inside mouth. Arctic couldn’t believe the pain he felt as the kitchen knife struck home under his chin and out through his mouth, his mouth wide open by the foreign object inside his maw, gagging as blood poured down his throat. Arctic was scared to move as he stared into the eyes of Shasha, them black eyes that knew no mercy or kindness, watching Arctic slowly choke on his own blood as he tried to lift himself off of the knife. Shasha smiled in amusement of the pathetic attempt, inhaling the fear that radiated of Arctic. Arctic tried to speak but, all that came out was gargling and pained groans.

“I do have your daughter.” The rough, dark voice of Shasha muttered, letting that fact linger over Arctic’s head as Arctic swallowed his blood, pain pulsing as blood slowly filled his mouth. “Your daughter will be a good slave.” He continued, tears falling from Arctic’s eyes as all he could do is survive as long as possible, drinking his own blood as he was on his tip toes. “I will break her, I’ll make her suffer, she will bend to my will for my entertainment and hunger.” Shasha said, watching Arctic struggle for his life. “She will die alone.”

“Fuckin bastard!” A sudden roar came from behind Shasha, sending both Arctic and Shasha sprawling to the floor as the detective tackled Shasha from the waist, making the knife go deep in but, making Shasha let go of it in the process. Sweetpea was beyond pissed now. She was a professional MMA fighter and she let some punk take her down so easily… She wasn’t messing around anymore.

Getting in a low stance, she watched as Shasha slowly got up on his feet, brushing himself off with one hand. She hated the arrogance he let off, she was going to wipe it right off him and show him who the lightweight female champion in her division was. Taking a calming deep breath, she didn’t waste any time or a moment to let him breathe as she lunged forward, catching him of guard by her lowered form’s speed, snatching him up by the waist and smashing his form down on his back with all her weight and power, hearing his air get knocked out of him. She didn’t waste a moment of his weakness as she straddled the downed man, her fist vibrating with strength as it came crashing down to the side of his head, then she did it with her left fist as the loop continued in a fury of punches.

Left and right and left and right and left and right, over and over and over again. Sweetpea was going to land another punch but a low, dark chuckle rised deep within this manic man’s throat. It made Sweetpea grit her teeth. She had handled many mentally unstable people before but, this guy takes the cake. Who laughs off her punches?

“That’s it, keep all your focus on me. Don’t you realise that your friend is slowly dying?” He said, making Sweetpea squint her eyes.

“What the hell are you even talking about, he fi-” When the detective turned around to Arctic’s slumped form, she was slightly confused why he hadn’t gotten up yet but, when she saw the knife sticking from his chin and blood dripping down slowly, only did her heart skip a beat. Sweetpea cursed as she didn’t have her handcuffs on her as she felt around her pants pockets. Huffing, she put all her power into one strike stunning him. It wouldn’t enough to keep him there but, for what he did to Arctic, it felt right. As he groaned, Sweetpea took off his top hat but, before she could see his face, his whole body faded through the floorboards, leaving her baffled to his whereabouts. A pained croak snapped her out of her state, looking over to see Arctic in a bad way he tried to cover the wound while the knife was still up his chin.

“Don’t worry, Arctic. I got you.” The detective said quickly, picking him up on his feet while his arm was around her shoulder. Arctic tried to speak but, with the knife obstruction poking the top of his inner mouth, all he could get out was some babbles and whines. “Don’t speak, save your energy. I’m going to get you out of here.” Arctic wasn’t too sure about that as he was having trouble standing, the blood loss slowly taking its toll on Arctic’s strength and vision as he was in and out of the blur. Arctic wanted to rip the knife out to cool off this burning pain but, he knew if he did that, he wouldn’t have a chance of surviving.

Sweetpea started to worry as she tried to retrace her steps back to the exit of the library but, with every turn she took, she only felt more lost than she was. Even worse, Arctic was feeling heavier as he slumped his weight on his body, blood dripping from his chin as he looked so tired. “Don’t close your eyes, Arctic! I need you awake!” Sweetpea exclaimed, slapping his face slightly. Arctic could only hear mumbling from the detective, the world around him being nothing but a blur of anguish and pain. He felt—so tired… So tired that he needed to rest his eyes.