Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know that doesn't make up for it but I have had absolutely no inspiration for this story lately, which is why it's been delayed. But, anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 8:

Cammie POV-

'How had she disassembled, cleaned, and then reassembled that gun so quickly?' I wondered, 'Even faster than Bex?! And only a few seconds behind me!'

Of course, at this point, the amount of coincidences pilling up were just too many to actually be coincidences, so, clearly, something was up. And now Blackthorne was coming here again?

Whatever, "circumstances" that had made my mom and the headmaster of Blackthorne decide to converge our schools together again, I knew, had to have something to do with Sam or her boyfriend, or both. The question was: what is the connection?

That is what I am going to find out.

"How did you handle the gun so quickly?" Bex asked all of our unspoken thoughts.

Sam shrugged, "Like I said, I have experience with weapons. Ghosts are kind of a big deal in our town, seriously, we actually have safety drills and stuff, so you have to know how to defend yourself. That gun was just a simplified version of an ectopistol."

"Ectopistol?" I questioned at the same time Liz asked how a regular pistol was a "simplified" version.

"An ectopistol is, well, essentially a pistol the fires ectoplasmic plasma beams at ghosts. It's simplified because regular pistols don't leak ectoplasm on your hands while you're cleaning them," she informed us, "I have one back in my room if you guys want to see it."

"Yes!" Liz squealed in delight. She was definitely the most enthusiastic about this. But I actually wanted to see it too, if anything to ease my mind and my suspicions about Sam a little, and judging from the look on Bex and Macey's faces that they were equally as curious about the mystery weapon as I was.

So, we followed Sam to her room, where she unzipped a large purple suitcase revealing several gadgets on top of a pile of neatly folded clothes.

"Here," she said, taking out the ectopistol, and handing it to Liz, who was immediately fascinated by its mechanics. Sam quickly disassembled it, and passed around the pieces, careful not to drip the green goo on the floor.

"Is it harmful to humans?" I wanted to know.

Sam shook her head, "No, it's just a mess, and it might leave a bruise, but that's it." I must admit, I was a little relieved that these weapons could not be turned around on us if Sam, is, in fact, working for the Circle or some other organization.

"What are these?" Bex asked, picking up a tiny device on a strap and a…tube of green lipstick?

Sam sighed, leaning over and opening the bedroom window.

"These are the Fenton Wrist Ray and the Ecto Lipstick Blaster," she demonstrated by firing identical green beams out of both weapons.

"So…Fenton like your boyfriend's last name?" I clarified.

"Yeah, actually, his parents make this stuff. They're ghost hunters," she explained.

Wow, I didn't think people actually hunted ghosts outside of movies, but, at this point, I'm pretty sure nothing about Sam or her boyfriend could really surprise me.

"Why do you have a…soup thermos?" Macey asked, picking a silver and green thermos out of her bag, which, if I had to guess, wasn't a thermos at all.

"It's not a thermos."

'See, told ya.'

"It actually allows someone to suck a ghost inside and keep it there, at least until it can be released into the ghost zone," she said, making a ghost sound like some kind of wild animal that wandered into a neighborhood.

"Ghost Zone?" Liz asked, obviously curious.

"It's another dimension connected to our own, except it is populated with ghosts. Natural portals open between the real world and the ghost zone all the time, which is how ghosts get in, but, Danny's parents were actually able to build a fixated portal, which is why Amity Park has so many more ghosts," Sam told us.

"Isn't that dangerous?" I asked, sitting on Tina's bed.

She shrugged, "Not really. Most of the ghosts are relatively benign, so they don't give us many problems, there are only some that have revenge issues and want to 'take over the world' and all that crap. But Phantom is able to handle them."

"Phantom, you mean Danny Phantom?" Liz guessed. Sam arched an eyebrow in her direction suspiciously. Liz had just revealed that we had done a background check on her and her city, oops.

"Yeah, he's the ghost hero of the city," she said.

"But why would he fight against ghosts if he is a ghost?" I wondered.

Sam shrugged again, but this time it was a little too…scripted, like she was prepared to answer this question with false ignorance, "Once a hero, always a hero, I guess. There are lots of theories. Some say he did something awful in life and is spending death making up for it, others say he protects the town because he still has family living there. Personally, I think he kind of has an obsession with helping other people, just from the conversations I've had with him."

"You've actually had conversations with him?" Macey asked.

"Yep. He'll talk to anyone if they're actually willing to listen," Sam answered.

"What do you mean by 'obsession'?" I questioned.

"Every ghost has some kind of fixation, whether it's music, wishes, dreams, technology, boxes, etc.," she listed.

"Boxes?" Bex asked.

Sam sighed; chuckling like it was some kind of inside joke as she pulled out her cellphone and pressed the playback button on the voice recorder.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST! I HAVE POWER OVER ALL CONTAINERS CARDBOARD AND SQUARE! TREMBLE BEFORE THE AWESOME MIGHT OF MY BUBBLE WRAP…OF DEATH—" the noise ended with the sound of a blast and a thump like someone hitting a wall.

"No way that's real!" Bex exclaimed in disbelief.

"Unfortunately, it is. That ghost is, by far, the single most annoying ghost on the planet, who actually happens to show up about three times a week in Amity Park," Sam rolled her eyes.

"Does he always talk like that?" Liz asked.

"Yes, ALL the time, and he always says he same exact thing. It gets really annoying," she tossed her cellphone lightly into the open suitcase on her bed.

"I'll bet," I muttered, and Sam cracked a little smile at my comment.

I glanced at the clock. We only had about five minutes before dinner would begin, which, in spy time, meant that we were already late.

"Guys!" I exclaimed, jumping off of the bed. "We're late for dinner!"

They all glanced at the clock before jumping up too, and racing out of the room to join our classmates in the dining hall.