Hello, hello this is my first fanfiction ever written. It is based off the characters created by the youtube channel Venturian Tales. A majority of the characters in this story are my own with the main two characters, Johnny Ghost and Johnny Toast belong to Venturian Tale.
"Hello, my name is Johnny Ghost and this is my colleague, Johnny Toast," the young man introduced himself and his slightly older companion. Ghost wore a gray zip-up hoodie with the hood up over his hazel hair. His eyes matched the color of his hair. "We are P.I.E., Paranormal Investigators Extraordinaire."
The woman couldn't believe she had called these two. Only having just seen their lame commercial on her television did she call them due to the thing roaming her upstairs. Currently she was having a difficult time telling whether these two could actually assist with her problem.
"May we enter your home ma'am?" Toast inquired. She recognized the voice as the very same that had responded to her call.
"How am I to know this isn't some hoax? It is hard to believe that someone that looks like you," she says gesturing to Ghost who looked more like a teenager, "is an extraordinaire of anything other than playing video games." Then she looked the other one up and down; black hair, five 'o'clock shadow, pale blue eyes, camo pants and a long sleeve shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and what looked like a bullet proof vest secured on him. "I don't even know what to think of you," she told Toast.
"We have been on dozens of missions prior to this and in the end we have gotten rid of the specter by either chasing it off or killing it," Ghost retorted already having been prepared to face the uncertainty of this American client. Most of the time they were called to places only God knows about to handle these jobs.
"Sir, that is not quite true. There was that one in Guatemala that we couldn't get rid of nor kill. Then there was also the case in Russia," Toast whispered to an audibility that he thought the woman wouldn't hear but obviously could.
"Guatemala was a different case entirely, it was a level twelve and was made of rocks. As for Russia it was not our fault that village got destroyed in that avalanche creating a few more ghosts to deal with," Ghost responded not even attempting to be subtle by whispering.
The woman was ready to slowly shut the door on these two and just deal with having that thing upstairs. That was before the two barged in through the open door.
"Trust us ma'am this won't take long," Toast assured her.
"On the phone you said that it breaks bottles and all other forms of glass, correct?" Ghost inquired. The woman responded with a nod of her head. "It also makes the sound of heavy booted steps?" As if in response above them the clomping of boot cladded feet went around. "Very well then. What do you think, Johnny, level four?"
"We won't know for certain without seeing it, sir." The two found the stairs easy enough leaving behind the woman who'd hired them in her living room.
The house was neat but had the unpleasant scent of incenses burning in all the rooms. Must have been some meager attempt to remove the spirit, Ghost thought. The floor as both Ghost and Toast had surmised was covered in shards of glass and had they not been wearing their combat boots they would surely have dozens of pieces of the dangerous shrapnel in their feet. The further they went down the hall of the upstairs the darker it became until the two were forced to take out their flashlights to find their way as they opened each door.
"Plenty of rooms," Ghost said as he opened the room that was certain to belong to a child with a race car bed and zebra and giraffe print wallpaper on the walls. Toys were strewn about and it seemed to be the only room lacking any glass.
"Perhaps it has some affiliation with the child who lives here," Toast said looking over his leader's shoulder.
They had opened every door in the upstairs except one at the very end of the hall. Both P.I.E. agents pulled out their firearms and aimed at the door unsure what to expect when they opened the door. Subtle was not a word in the duo's vocabulary when they had guns in hand. Rather than opening the door Ghost kicked it in nearly throwing it off its hinges. The room was pitch black except where their flashlights shined. In the very center of the room sat a young girl in a filthy white dress and a dozen cases of empty bottles surrounding her. She had her back to the two who had abruptly entered the room and did not acknowledge their existence even when they approached her.
"I am addressing the entity that haunts this place," Ghost stated, "I request that you leave this place or suffer dire consequences." It was moments before the girls moved. But the way she moved was not how they'd expected. There was a stomping of boots on the wooden floor before she was launched across the room shattering glass bottles as she went. Toast's light followed the girl while Ghost trained his light on a shadow figure that had just appeared.
"Sir, I don't believe this is a normal entity," Toast said hearing the sound of boots approaching them as the shadow neared.
"I don't believe it, Johnny. It's a memory loop; the repetition of a spirit's last moments." As the ghost hunter stood in awe of the event taking place he suddenly felt the collision of the flat of a boot crashing into his ribs sending him flying out of the room and against the wall at the opposite side of the hall. "Shoot it Johnny, shoot it!" Two shots rang out before Toast came sliding down the hall on his back groaning and the door slammed shut.
"I believe it to be fortunate that that shaman gave us those protection charms," Toast said coughing from the impact.
"This is not what we expected, Johnny," Ghost stated oblivious to his companion's remark. "A memory loop. A freaking memory loop. I did not see that coming." The excitement was clear on the young man's face as he thought of all the possibilities for this occurring.
The duo returned to the main floor where the owner of the home was looking about the two. "The problem must be fixed considering my neighbors called about gunshots."
"You see ma'am," Toast began.
"Where is the child that lives here?" Ghost inquired.
"What does my daughter have to do with any of this?"
"So it is a daughter you have. Now tell me where she is."
A look of depression shrouded the skeptical woman's face. "Buried in the graveyard down the road alongside her father."
"I may be overstepping my bounds, ma'am, but did your daughter suffer abuse?" Toast inquired.
The woman glared at the question, "Once again I ask what she has to do with any of this?"
"Did your husband drink too much one night, Ms. Drablow? Did he get a little rough with your daughter?" Ghost inquired taking an interest with a photograph that had been flipped down. It showed the woman before them beside a tall and dark man with a little girl in a white dress in front of them.
"My husband was a good man," Ms. Drablow replied in a low voice. "Of course he drank, any man would if their firm was going down. But he would never harm our child."
"Johnny, bring in the device."
"Yes, sir." With that Toast trotted out the front door only to return moments later with a heavy metal contraption in his arms.
The machine was placed at Ghost's feet before he explained. "What you have in the upstairs is a memory loop. A very specific type of haunting where the victim lives out their final moments for an eternity. It will commonly disrupt the mental state of the person closest to the event but was not involved. You Ms. Drablow do not properly recall what has occurred here because you were not involved in what happened to both your daughter and husband." He flipped a switch on the machine causing it to hum to life. "This device is meant to remove any paranormal hindrance to a single person at any given time. With it we will clear your mind and perhaps you will help conclude our investigation."
The woman's eyes glazed over for a moment before she shook her head. "He murdered my daughter. That drunk murdered my daughter." Ms. Drablow practically screeched.
"Sir, I am starting to doubt this was the proper course of actions," Toast stated in his overly audible whisper.
"Don't worry Johnny it'll all be for the best," Ghost assured his colleague. In all honesty Ghost didn't quite know what to expect from what he'd done, but most of his life had been to live by trial and error and ghost hunting held no exceptions.
After their client had stormed off up the stairs Toast looked to his companion, "Do you think she has some whiskey, sir?"
"You should lay off the whiskey, Johnny. We should probably go and take care of the memory loop if we want to get paid," Ghost replied as he pulled out his firearm and began his way up the stairs with Toast following close behind.
Ms. Drablow was standing outside the door, behind which the memory loop continued, pounding on the door. One kick from Toast was all it took to take down the door. Rather than wait for the shadow figure to acknowledge them Ghost shot three rounds into it stunning the spirit before it stomped toward them ignoring the girl who still sat in the center of the room. It was in that one single moment that the shadow stopped in its tracks releasing a horrible scream as it turned to ash and melted into the floorboards leaving a carbon stain. The little girl's departure was less dramatic as she faded away leaving just the glass bottles that had surrounded her.
"That was simple enough," Ghost said as he slid his weapon back into its holster. "We only had to break the loop while it was in the process of completion. Distracting the shadow was the best way considering the alternative."
"You mean shooting the second spirit, sir?" Toast asked writing notes for the hand book he was writing. They would require the book to be a success to give them money so that they could perhaps not have to live out of hotels also he could make a better commercial eventually to bring in more clients.
"That's right, Johnny. Either the shadow or the girl needed to be disrupted; considering the girl was by all means innocent in this haunting she deserved no further punishment." Ghost turned to Ms. Drablow, "We do not take checks, only cash and considering the damage Johnny's bullets caused the first time we'll take off fifty dollars. That'll be one-fifty if you will," Ghost said holding out his hand.
Case File: Drablow Loop
Client: Ms. Clara Drablow
Activity: Memory Loop
Removal: Destroyed
Upon arrival at the Drablow house hold we were told about shattered glass and stomping of boots which both of us had heard. The upper floor was covered in shards of glass from various bottles, save for the child's room. The end hall room which upon further questioning after completion of the case we discovered was an unused room except for when Mr. Drablow had required a place to relieve his stress. The spirits associated with the memory loop were Mr. Drablow who became a shadow figure, and the daughter Sarah Drablow who remained in her filthy white dress on the night of her demise. Mr. Drablow had been drinking and (unlike myself) could not withstand the intoxication and allowed his malice to consume him till he murdered his daughter and upon the realization of what he'd done killed himself. The loop in question belonged to the young Sarah Drablow who was forced to suffer the same event over and over again. The reasoning for the father becoming a shadow figure is because in those final moments the girl could not recognize him in his rage. It remains unknown why she entered that room on that night but for whatever reason it is unfortunate how it ended for her. The destruction of the loop was caused by Sir Ghost firing three times into the shadow and drew in the attention of it thus causing it to break the loop and send it to God knows where while the girl left in a more peaceful manner. I will believe that these reports will assist in the writing of my hand book for all those who would desire to be a ghost hunter. This will be the first official file since the others were destroyed in the prior case in Russia.
This was the first chapter I have only a few chapters completed at the moment but if this story gets attention I'll write more to it.