It was a cool October night in New York City. Dr. Raymond "Ray" Stantz was hunkered down in the private lab of the firehouse that had become Ghostbusters HQ with a new interest piquing his ever active curiosity. In this case Ray had been fascinated by infamous crimes, specifically that of serial killers. A large stack of aged newspapers, various informative books and old VHS tapes containing interviews from survivors of America's most notorious serial killers littered the small work space and had all but cornered Ray behind his unusual elective research.

A quick knock on the opened door frame of the lab pulled Ray's attention from the large opened book in his hands. "Huh? What?" He asked while looking up in a daze of confusion. Ray's eyes were red from strain and fatigue as he stared at his colleague in the door frame.

"Ray," Dr. Peter Venkman gave his colleague an annoyed look as he stood in the opened door. "it's almost four in the morning. Will you please go to bed and stop moving heavy books around? It sounds like a drunk wandering around down here..."

"Huh?" Ray looked at the clock on the wall and was shocked to see that it was so late into the night. "Oh, sorry Venkman! I just got so caught up in-"

"Don't care Ray." Peter closed his eyes and leaned against the door frame. "Sleep now."

"Right, right. Sorry." Ray closed his book and turned off the desk lamp with a satisfying click. "I just had no idea that-"

"Ray..." Peter interrupted without opening his eyes. "I seriously can't stress the 'don't care' part enough right now. Sleep."

"Right. Okay." Ray got up from behind the desk, stretched out his shoulders with a sleepy yawn and walked toward the door where Peter was still leaning. "Let's go to bed."

"Good idea. Why did I think of that?" Peter retorted in grumpy sarcasm.

It didn't take long for Peter to fall asleep once the duo quietly walked into the dark bunk room. Both Dr. Egon Spengler and Winston Zeddemore were already in bed and fast asleep, neither man noticed their colleagues walking into the room.

Peter flopped down onto his bed and was asleep within a few minutes of laying down.

Ray, on the other hand, was still very much awake and his mind was racing with all the grizzly details he had uncovered during his research into the psychology of the most notorious minds that ever ravaged the country. Laying down on the bed and resting his head against his pillow Ray shut his eyes and let his mind wander with the endlessly bleak details of his research.

As sleep finally won out over Ray's tired mind his body began to relax and all was quiet and peaceful. Just as Ray was about to drift off a loud 'screech' from the basement startled him awake. He bolted upright in his bed and looked around the dark room, surprised that no one else had woken up.

"Guys?"

The screeching from deep in the basement sounded off again. The screeching was like metal being scratched or gouged by a blade and the sound was enough to cause the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

"Guys!" Ray called out louder to his sleeping colleagues. "Do you hear that?"

The other three Ghostbusters were still sound asleep and showed no signs of waking.

The screeching continued to echo loudly, ominously from the basement.

"How can you guys sleep through this?" Ray asked as he got out of bed and used the fire pole to slide down from the bunk room and into the garage bypassing the staircase in the process. "What the heck is that noise?"

Ray approached the basement carefully, walking past Janine's vacated desk and wandered down the dimly lit stairs leading into the basement. The screeching continued the sound off as Ray approached.

The basement was dark save for an eerie glow the flickered over the walls like a roaring fire. The brick walls of the basement that were normally lined with equipment, tools and of course the massive Ecto Containment Unit, were somehow bare. Large pipes snaked along the walls, some carrying steam and others water that dripped rhythmically from the sweating lines. A large boiler and furnace stood ominously in the rear of the basement, housing the large roaring fire that illuminated the otherwise dark room.

"What in the-" The screeching sounded off and stopped Ray mid question.

Ray tracked the source of the sound to the furnace, but he couldn't see anything moving.

"What's going on here? This isn't our basement!"

A figure slowly wandered out from a shadowy corner and stood before the furnace, casting a looming shadow over Ray as he stood on the bottom step of the basement in shock. The figure was tall, slim and had a brimmed hat on his its head.

"Who... Who are you?"

The figure raised his right hand revealing what looked like a long knife in its grip. The figure dragged the blade across the metal surface of the furnace causing the ear piercing screech once again.

As Ray held his hands to his ears he stared fearfully at the figure before him. "What do you want?"

The figure stopping dragging the blade and held its hand out toward Ray. One by one the figure extended the fingers on its hand and revealed that the single blade was in fact one of four, each blade was attached to its fingers like a massive animal claw.

Ray swallowed nervously and took a step backward as the dread and foreboding began to gnaw away at his every instinct for self preservation.

The figure began strolling toward Ray, dragging its clawed hand along the pipes with each step. Heavy boot steps stomped along the concrete floor and deep, animalistic breathing echoed menacingly through the basement.

"Stay back! I'm warning you!" Ray's voice was shaking with unprecedented fear. "I don't want to have to hurt you!"

As Ray took another step backward he felt something move in behind him with a swift speed he could only imagine. He turned and came face to face with the figure. The figure's face was that of a horrifically, grotesquely burned man. His flesh was blackened and red with gaping scars and imperfections that marred every centimeter of his skin. The acrid odor of burned flesh and hair filled the air.

Ray was too frightened to scream, let alone speak. All he could do was watch in horror as the figure suddenly reached back into the air used its claw like hand to cut deep scratches into Ray's forearm as he lifted the appendage up and over his face to shield himself from the deeply disturbing figure.

"Gah!" Ray cried out in pain only to find himself laying in his bed, being shaken awake by Peter.

"Ray? Ray!" Peter yelled to get his friend's attention as he held Ray by his shoulders. Ray was tossing and turning frantically in his bed and sweating with psychical exertion. "Wake up!"

"Stop, don't!" Ray shouted as he was finally full awake and staring at his friend's confused face. "Peter?"

"Yeah..." His response was just as confused as his face. "You alright? Have a bad dream?"

"Y-Yeah. But it s-seemed so real..." Ray sat up in bed and ran his hand through his hair. "So intense..."

"Whoa! What's going on here?" Peter took Ray's arm in his hand and examined four long deep lacerations running down his arm. The four cuts were perfectly spaced and bleeding heavily. "How'd you do this in your sleep?" He turned his head to yell out the opened door of the bunk room. "Hey Winston! Egon! Need a medic in here!"

Ray slowly pulled his arm away from Peter and stared at the cuts in disbelief. "Peter..." He cradled his bloody limb against his chest, soaking his gray t-shirt in dark red blood in the process.

"Yeah?" Peter sat on the edge of Ray's bed with sincere concern in his voice, his eyes fixated on the blood all over Ray's arm and shirt.

"This... This happened in my dream!"

...to be continued...