Chapter 1: A Place Called Amity Park

Set pre-'Crossroads Betwixt Life and Death.'

It was official; I was flat out broke. I was skint. I was teetering on the edge of the proverbial cliff of bankruptcy.

Not the sort of statements one uttered lightly, especially someone as proud as I was. I was used to standing on my own two feet. I was used to dealing with problems by myself...I was not used to admitting defeat.

However I was not alone, there was a lot of other people in my predicament; the city was currently experiencing a decline in employment, and there were cut backs everywhere. What brought it all on was a very complicated issue, one which gave me a headache to even begin to contemplate, but the bottom line was that it cost me a lot.

First the hospital - where I'd been working as an almost permanent fixture, I might add - had made its share of cut backs, first it had been wages. But since I cared so passionately about my job I didn't complain...much. I carried on as best I could, because my work was more important than personal comfort. I valued my job and I did enjoy my work, unlike many of my colleagues. But even I had my limits; I needed the money to live, and it wasn't until three weeks after those cut backs that I'd been forced to look at the idea of selling my car; I had nothing else of value, save my apartment, and it wasn't like I could live in my car. Of course it hadn't been easy selling the car, but fortunately my brother, god bless him, was a mechanic and he managed to shift it for a decent price.

...But money never really goes as far as we'd like, does it?

When the financial situation showed no signs of improvement, more cut backs were made and eventually, I lost my job, along with many others in the city. I had no car, no job, and pretty soon if I didn't come up with some money, I would be unable to pay my rent and I'd be homeless too.

My brother had offered me a room at his place, but I didn't want to admit defeat. It had nothing to do with the fact that he lived in a converted 'shed' with about a dozen other people who ran the garage with him. Nope, it had nothing to do with that...well...not much anyway.

I tried to go on, I really tried to make what little money I was left with last me for as long as possible. But, unpredictably it didn't last long. It was inevitable.

So, I was soon left with really only one option; I had to find somewhere cheaper to live. It wasn't that my place was expensive to rent; back when I'd had my real wages before the trouble it had been easy, but this was a rather well-to-do area. I needed somewhere less expensive...and this was how I came across a place called Amity Park. For some reason the housing prices were extremely low, at first I though it was some kind of scam, but I decided to dig deeper and I'd found that it was for real...and it was also haunted...by ghosts.

Of course I didn't believe any of it and a few days later, once I found a place to live via the Internet - how did we live before the World Wide Web - I borrowed one of my brother's cars and drove to Amity Park. It wasn't too far away which meant I didn't have to waste a fortune on fuel, and I also found out that it didn't look like a bad place. It certainly didn't seem like your typical 'haunted' town, that was for sure; maybe it was just a weird tourist attraction or something.

For a while I just sat around in my new place, I didn't even set up shop; all my things - which I hadn't sold - sat in their boxes collecting dust while I sulked uncharacteristically in my bed or on the floor by candlelight.

I called at the hospitals and even the care homes every day and every night but I wasn't offered any employment. It was very depressing to say the least. Other than that, Amity Park was a decent place to live.

Well, that was what I thought until it happened. I actually saw something that made me think I'd gone certifiably insane. Walking down the street one afternoon I saw a ghost. An actual, real ghost...or something that was dong a damn good impression of one...floating right in the middle of the street...And it was holding...a box?! What the hell was this, April Fools?

"Beware, for I, the Box Ghost have come to rule over your world, and you will all fear me!" the thing declared.

At this point I was still undecided as to whether it was real or a dream or a trick or if I simply was nuts. I looked around and saw that the people who saw it had different reactions; some ran in fear, others laughed while others stood around and watched as though waiting for something.

I watched from beings a building as another ghost / illusion flew over the city and straight down to stare at the box holding illusion. It looked like a malnourished child wearing a black jumpsuit with white hair and...he was also glowing...just like the other one.

"You again!" the young ghost / illusion sighed, "It's one in the afternoon on a Sunday...haven't you ever heard of time off?"

"I am the Box Ghost, I do not have 'time off'. I have come to..."

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this over with," was the bored reply from the kid.

"You should be trembling in fear, for I..."

"Uh," the kid ghost thing actually face-palmed and looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here and now. Then I watched as he pulled out a thermos and the 'Box Ghost' was sucked up into it, then without another word the kid flew off again.

At first I thought I'd dreamt the whole thing; it was so ludicrous! But when it happened again, and again and again...I got the message. It was difficult for me, a scientist, to admit that ghosts were real. I'd always said that they weren't, that what we had to deal with in this world was enough and that no ghosts needed to apply. How could I have been more wrong?

But, I digress, there was more to come.

After I abandoned my isolationism it didn't take long for me to start learning even more about my new home...including the fact that the mayor was Vladimir Masters. At first I scoffed, it surely wasn't the same guy I had known. The only Vlad Masters I had ever met had been quiet and camera shy, certainly not mayor material. When I actually saw him once, though, I was forced to admit that it was him; somehow the young Vlad I had met in a hospital as a student had become the most confident man on the planet, and possibly one of the wealthiest too. It seemed impossible that out of all the towns in all the states in all the world I should come to the one where he was mayor, I mean what were the odds, really?

And what were the odds that I honestly hadn't known about this before I moved here? In any other situation it would've been laughable! I just had to move to the ghost infested town with a mayor whom I happened to know! The odds were astronomical!

However, I made no move to contact him; after all he probably wouldn't even remember me. It had been 20 years and I'd only been a student doctor then - nothing important enough to be remembered by a billionaire mayor.

It seemed, though, that Amity Park...or fate...had a different idea and I almost had a coronary when, one saturday morning, when I'd decided that a little dusting and tidying was in order, I answered the door to see mayor Masters on my doorstep. Nope, I hadn't seen that one coming. And, as in the first brief glance I'd had, he certainly was different than I remembered.

For one his skin was pristine and unblemished and he looked healthier than possibly anyone I'd ever seen in my life; this was certainly not the frail looking young man I'd met as a student. Also, the other thing that struck me was that he did not look his age, not in the least, in fact he looked ten years younger despite his white hair. From the back of a crowd this was an easy thing to miss, but up close it was not so.

In the last few days I'd learned that Vladimir owned several companies as well as ran his office as mayor, he was a multi-billionaire who certainly didn't need to waste his time on politics, and that many women found him attractive. In fact, a neighbour of mine had actually told me that the man had been voted one of the countries most wealthy and eligible bachelors! For several years running!

...Perhaps it wasn't hard to see why...from their point of view at least - he had the whole tall, dark and handsome look thing going for him. Not that I fell for that kind of thing though. But many women thought that wealth was attractive, especially when it was accompanied by a man who looked ten years younger than he really was, had charisma in spades and could actually get away with walking around wearing a waistcoat, a gold pocket watch and a trench overcoat...even while standing in my doorway. Not that it affected me in the slightest.

"Hello, doctor Grant," Vladimir said simply and showed no signs of saying anything else. Instead he turned his attention to the sparsely furnished sitting room which he could see over my shoulders.

"'Hello, doctor Grant'," I repeated slowly when I found my voice, "After all this time that's all you've got to say," I scoffed.

"As interesting as this corridor is I believe we would both be more comfortable inside, don't you?" he asked me and I suddenly went brain dead as I let him walk into my apartment. He was just so different; it was difficult to get to grips with this prim and proper, confident man.

I closed the door behind me and turned round to see him eying the boxes and cleaning things still lying around; by this time I had actually made a start of unpacking...I just hadn't finished it yet, which was rather pathetic when one considered that I didn't actually own much anymore.

"I'd offer you a drink, but all I have is water," I said slowly, and realising I was still holding the old duster in my hand I quickly threw it behind a chair hoping he wouldn't notice. Something told me that this debonair man standing before me wouldn't appreciate tap water in a dusty and cracked old glass.

"Water will be fine," he replied and shrugged off his overcoat. He draped it over a chair and adjusted his suit jacket before sitting down and I shrugged and went to get us both a drink.

I couldn't help but feel awkward; he looked extremely out of place in my little sitting room and I wondered how much attention he'd gotten when he'd walked into the apartment building. People who looked and dressed like that didn't make house calls to the unemployed.

When I came back in he was putting away his pocket watch and I handed him the glass before I sat down on the arm of the other chair opposite him.

"So..." I began with a nervous smile, "I hear you've been busy," I said, daring a look at his reaction; I was disappointed to see that he remained emotionless and silent. What had he come here for if he wasn't even going to make polite conversation? "I saw you the other day...didn't think you saw me...I didn't think you'd recognise me either," I tried again.

"I never forget a face," he told me quickly; it was verging on monosyllabic but at least it was a response.

I had no idea what else to say. I mean, I knew what I wanted to ask was 'why didn't you ever see me again after you left the hospital?' but it wouldn't be polite to do so. And unfortunately, I had been raised to be polite at all times. What could he possibly want with me after almost two decades of nothing?

"There is a position vacancy at the hospital, would you be interested?" he suddenly asked me and I almost choked on the water I'd just sipped.

I was then frozen in shock as I stared across at him in confusion. "...Is this...I don't know...some sort of...I-owe-you deal? Because I may be on the verge of bankruptcy but I don't need pity, I can find my own..." I stuttered.

"No, it's simply a matter of fulfilling my duty as mayor; this town has been deprived of decent doctors for too long, there is a position open and here stands a perfectly adequate doctor, I see no reason for you to over complicate the issue," Vlad answered with an elegant shrug.

"How did you even know I need a..."

"The fact of the matter is that it's good business practice, particularly in politics, to have a good relation with ones neighbours. As such I am in regular contact with many mayors of the country, and I happened to hear about the financial difficulties of your last home. I believe it was in poor taste to bankrupt an adequate doctor when there are so few, but one man's loss etcetera etcetera."

"So...this is you taking advantage of one towns' problems?"

"Correct," he nodded, "No doubt, by now you've already seen that this town has its fair share of...unusual...disasters and it makes many authority figures rather unpopular when there isn't the capacity to deal with the aftermath."

"And you think one doctor will change that?" I asked in disbelief.

"It is a start," he said simply.

It was a good offer; one which I hadn't expected. I'd actually called at the hospital several times to ask about work but I'd been rebuffed every time; so I didn't buy his story, not by a long shot. But if I turned down this offer I was unlikely to find other so soon: it would be stupid to say no simply because of my pride.

"I guess I'll take it then," I sighed.

"Splendid," he smirked and reached into his jacket pocket. He then tossed a small collection of papers onto my coffee table and I curiosity picked them up. The first one was an ID to pin onto my clothes I usually wore when I worked.; this I found far to forwards for my tastes. How had he known I'd accept the job? Also how did he get a recent photo of me to use on this thing?

"Wait a minute, how did you..." I started to ask but he held up his hand; clearly not interested in my question.

"You start Monday at 6, everything else you need to know is there," he indicated to the papers I held.

"That wasn't what I..."

"Do spare me the modesty and pride then," he sighed.

"If you'd let me speak..." I ground out, getting irritated. This man seriously needed to be brought down a few pegs; his confidence was bordering on severe narcissism.

"I don't see why you..." he spoke over me again and now I'd really had enough,

"Vladimir!" I yelled and that certainly got his attention. He stopped talking instantly and stared at me with an expression which I couldn't decipher; it looked like amusement.

"Yes, my dear?" he asked innocently.

"Where..." I began, but suddenly, now that I had his attention, the simple question about the photograph seemed rather pointless. So instead I asked; "Why are you doing this?"

What I wasn't expecting was for him to smile and chuckle at me. "What's so funny?" I demanded defensively.

"Nothing," he replied, "You simply remind me of someone, is all."

"Who?" I asked but he didn't answer me. I sighed at his reticence and put down the papers I'd been glancing through. Whatever his reasoning, Vladimir had done me a big favour, I didn't know whether this was his way of paying me back for helping to nurse him 20 years ago, or whether he was making up for 20 years of silence or anything, but it was a good gesture. One that seemed rather out of character for this, now, confident and cocky man.

It was a huge favour, actually, and I knew that regardless of the past, I owed him one. "Thank you," I said gratefully after a minute - pride be damned, this certainly warranted a 'thank you.'

"Think nothing of it; simply tell no one, an we will 'call it even'," he shrugged.

"Why? Can't you be seen doing something nice?" I smiled.

"Certainly not," he frowned, and suddenly, I believe I caught a glimpse of the young man I'd known so many years ago...and then, without warning, it was gone in a flash.

"Then I promise to keep stum," I replied, "I wouldn't want to ruin your image."

"No, you wouldn't," he raised a white eyebrow and I felt an inexplicable chill run down my spine despite my best efforts for it not to. Then, as though nothing had happened, he stood, pulled on his overcoat and turned to leave. He clearly intended to show himself out and he made a straight line for the door.

"Wait," I stood and faced him. Fortunately he stopped just as he'd begun opening the door.

"Yes?" he asked expectantly.

"It's, erm, it's good to see you again," I said with a confused frown. Usually I didn't think twice about seeing old patients again, but when I'd seen Vladimir so helpless back then, the image had always stuck with me. He'd been so alone, so isolated and so very ill, that everyone thought he wouldn't make it. I'd tried to help him as best I could, just with little things, like simply talking to him when no one else would. It didn't seem like much when all was said and done, but when you were alone a single voice could possibly save you from madness.

It seemed like hours passed from when I'd spoken to when he finally turned around to face me, but he didn't speak. He simply looked at me almost as though I had three heads or something strange like that. Then, a minute later he blinked and shook his head, and with one last glance in my direction, he left my apartment, closing the door behind him.

Clearly, ghosts were not the only unusual things in Amity Park that I was going to have to get used to.