A/N: Thank you Axel (Insubordinance if you wanna read her fics!) For helping me with ideas for this chappie!

Tucker, you're about to meet your DOOM!

WARNING: I hope you heeded the previous warning a few chapters back. You have been caught in my spell and now cannot escape. I hope you've written your will, for your giggles with choke your breathing and you will eventually die. Also, after letting previous readers revise the chapter (my brother) we have also found that certain things like high blood pressure, migraines, and the aching of stomach muscles may result from your reading this.

Read at your own risk.

Thank you for your time.


Who's Not Letting the Ghouls Out?

Chapter Twenty-Nine


"You can't run from me, Tuck," Tyke shouted. He grinned as he chased Tucker. "I'm always going to be there as your haunting buddy, Tyke Mervin."

Tyke. Tucker felt his heart freeze at the name. Tyke Mervin, his best friend from pre-school? He stared over his shoulder at the running form. The darkness shifted to a light zone where a neon light shone. He snapped a mental picture of the supposed 'Tyke' chasing him and gasped.

That smirk and those dark pupilless eyes were easily recognizeable as those of his friend. He narrowed his eyes at the fiend. How dare he bring up that name?

Tyke Mervin, Tucker thought as he turned back around, ignoring the chasing foe for a bit. Haven't heard that name in years...

FLASHBACK:

"Oh, come on, Tuck! We're just gonna have a little fun!" shouted a boyish voice. The dark-skinned boy it came from was no larger than a five-year-old. And in truth, he was just that, a five-year-old. His dark, extremely curly, black hair was cut short to his head. His brown eyes glistened with slight mischief. His grin held a boyish charm girls just drooled over. Older girls melted in front of that boyish grin. His name was Tyke Melvin.

The person he was talking to had on a red baseball cap. His eyes were a sweet mixture of aqua-marine. He had Timberland boots and dark green cargo shorts with a khaki colored long sleeve shirt. "I dunno," Tucker said. "It's the older kids' class, and they have a whole bunch of glass stuff. What if we break something?"

"We won't break anything!" said Tyke. "I just wanna know what all those chemicals do! My sister says they mix them together to make clouds and stuff!"

"But your sister is fifteen! She knows what she's doing!" Tucker objected.

"Fien then!" Tyke finally said, frowning. "I'll go alone!"

With that, Tyke charged down the halls of the High shcool. The door to the Science Lab had been elft open when the etacher wlaked out for a second. Tucker watched as the boy disappeared inside, closing the door. He nibbled his lwoer lip, waiting and tapping his foot. He didn't like this, didn't like it at all.

He waited for what seemed about ten minutes,a dn still no Tyke. "Tyke! I don't think that's a good idea!" Tucker shouted, nearing the door. He didn't get a response. "Tyke?" The sound of glass breaking, a scream, and something dropping. "Tyke?!" he shouted louder this time. He began to panic, eharing no response still. He tried to open the door, but Tyke had locked it! He pounded on the door with his fists, simultaneously shouting, "Tyke!"

From down the hall came the teacher, running towards the shouts. "What's going on?" he shouted. "What are you doing there?"

Now Tucker was near tears, still pounding and crying out. Before any of them could open the door however, there was the sound of more glass break. The teacher, an elderly man with a head of white hair and glasses atop him nose, dug in his pockets for some keys. He struggled with finding the correct key, while Tucker finally found that tears were spilling down his cheeks. His friend was in trouble! "Tyke!" he shouted again, his voice high and shrilly. "Move aside, boy!" shouted the teacher, pushing him off. A couple of parents from the Open House started to creep towards the place.

And finally, the knob began to feel hot. The door became warm, and from inside, they could hear the pitts of hell come to life. From the look on the teacher's face and by the fact he backing away, Tucker knew it was too late.

The rest of that night was filled with the sounds of sirens and the sounds of tears and sobs. People asking questions too.

Obviously, it was too late by the time the firefighters had come. Most of the chemicals inside the lab were not extremely dangerous, but caused mini explosions and were flamable. But Tyke didn't die from the flames all that much, when they found his carcass - it nearly made to ashes - dozens of staples were found on his face. A staple gun was found on the floor, the type used for wood. They concluded he died from the pain before anything else, then if he didn't die then, it may have been from the noxious gases of the chemical-filled beakers he broke - thus the breaking of glass Tucker had heard.

:END FLASHBACK

It was then that he started fearing his own death, staretd dreaming Tyke's own. And now with this guy after him, he wished he'd never gone to camp at all, where the truth had been reveal to him. That he feared death, that he feared getting to joined with a friend because he feared their death.

The revelation was too much, he ran on blindly, trying to keep the tears from his eyes.

Come on, Tuck! he thought. Get a hold of yourself! Focus on where you're going before-

"You make a dreadful mistake," he murmured aloud as he cleared his eyes from oncomming tears and looked at where he was now. A dead end. Just what he needed.

He stopped in front of the wall, as if wishing it would vanish and allow him entry. "A dead end," Tyke said from behind him, his voice dry and hoarse. His eyes seemed to pierce right through Tucker as he abcked up against the wall, trying to squeeze back as far as he could until he didn't exist. He watched Tyke with a scowl, teeth clenched, eyes wet from tears.

"I don't know what you want, Tyek," he said, voice beginning to break. "But you're not going to keep me away from stopping you and the Fright Knight! Or whoever the hell it is making this stupid illusion!"

Tyke closed in, taking slow, agonizing steps towards Tucker. But the agony was not Tyke's, it was Tuck's.

"You will not escape even if your friends and you succeed in making waste with this world," Tyke said. "You will not be able to escape me nor the truth." Tucker's hand pressed hard against the wall, him feeling as if his wrist would pop off any minute now. He wouldn't be surprised if it did, either. His breathing became gruff as Tyke neared him all the way.

"You are mine, now and forever," he whispered to him, closing in completely. The distance between their faces was no more than an inch or so. Tyke smiled sickly. That smile that used to melt the hearts of girls everywhere in school of all ages. Tucker was forced to stare into those dark, lifeless eyes as Tyke seemed to only stretched out the seconds for his own entertainment. "No matter where you go, no matter where you tried to hide. I will be there," he said. With one of his hands, he cupped Tucker's chin. His eyes half closed, his voice became a simple rush of air with tone and sound. "You cannot escape me."

Tucker only stared. He could feel his whole body trembling benetah anger and fear. Danny's plan was to use his fears against Tyke. How could he possibly do that? When he knew what he feared and could not even take in allt hat was happening now? He couldn't control hismelf at all, he could only stare and hold the tears in. He could only pray silently that Danny or Sam would reach Mikey and stab that stupid sword into a stupid pumkin. He could only hope for the end before Tyke showed him what his end would be like before it happened.

Tkye smiled at the boy. His teeth were stained and his breath smelled of rotting flesh and ash, a smell Tucker did not ever want to smell again. Tyke turned his face to one side and whispered into his ear, "You're friends will fail, and it will be your fault."

Tucker's eyes could not have been widened any more without having his eye balls fall out of their sockets. Tyke allowed him control - some, at least - and Tucker turned abck to him. "And you will watch them fall, like you watched me."

"I tried to stop you," Tucker said, eyes welling up with etars again. "I tried to change your mind."

"And you allowed me to make a foolish decision," Tyke said. "It was your fault, and you must live with that thought forever in your mind."

Tucker squeezed his eyes shut, bent on trying to move away from Tyke. He bit his lower lip, trying to keep the etars form falling anymore.

"Don't turn away from me," Tyke said sternly, grabbing hold of Tucker's neck, forcing the boy to open his eyes and look at him. If there was any distance between their two bodies before, it was now 0 inches. Tucker felt Tyke press up against him. Tucker's teeth bared. "Don't ever turn away from me." Tyke's voice became breathless as he closed in the inch separating their faces. Tucker didn't move, didn't do anything. His whole nervous system seemed to shut down on him, only allowing him to see and feel a cold sensation fill his entire body and cold, dead lips pressed against his own. Tyke's lashes fell closed as he pressed himself closer to Tucker, his hand leaving the boy's throat and now positioning itself on his shoulder. His other hand also pinned the living teen to the wall so he could not escape.

Tucker felt disgusted. The smell of the dead ghoul's rotting features sickened him, but he could not move. His fingers twitched and his mind raced so qucikly he didn't udnerstand what he was thinking at all. His brows furrowed as he tried hard to make his reflexes kick in and quickly. But soon enough, the tears began to flow again as the kiss progressed. Tyke bit at his lower lip, allowing a short breath before it resumed in a more passionate kind of way. Tucker, though hating this, gave in. This was it, he told himself. You're gonna die here, and there's nothing you can do about it...

His brow relaxed and his eyes stayed closed as it continued. The french kiss he wished to have with a girl, not his dead friend who looked like him with staples drilled into his head. Tyke's tongue lashed at his own, leaving the dreaded taste of death on his taste buds. Finally, as he began to lead into another breath, his mind switched back to normal. No! This won't end like this! Danny said to face your fears! You know what they are! Use them! Remember what Jazz always told you! Hell! Rememebr what your momma always told you!

Tucker's eyes snapped open as realization struck. This was his chance. He dug deep into his pocket with shakey hands and reveal a small scalpel he'd stolen from the Nurse's Office.

Memories flooded through his mind about the 'sharp, pointy things' he was about to use for this. As Tyke separated from him for the slighets second, Tucker's lip curcled inwards in disgust. "Sorry, Tyke," he said bretahlessly, chets heaving. "But you're first kiss is over." Tyke's eyes widened and Tucker, with all his might, drilled the scalpel into the neck of his opponent.

"You fucking-" Tyke started, as blood spilled from the area in the back of his neck. Tucker ran off to one side, still tyring to keep with all that had happened. But instead, he pushed to the farthest corner of his mind and tried to ignore it. He spit, wiping his mouth as Tyke fell to his knees and took out the small knife, staring at it. He looked at Tucker, body racking fiercely. And he smiled. "You done well, Tuck. You done well," the voice was the voice of a small five-year-old.

The voice Tucker hadn't heard in years.

And with that, Tyke's form shifted to that of a simple robot with oil instead of blood. Sparks flew, and it was over. Tucker couldn't resist sighing with relief.

The night's almost over, he told himself. He looked off out of the corner of his eye. They'd palced cameras in every dead end hall. If Mikey was watching, this was his chance to say hello. He looked at the small black device in the corner, and waved. Danny, he thought, you'd better make this worthwhile.


E/N: And yaoi was made possible by the help of Insubordinance! Morathi is once again happy and Emelia's disgusted... Morathi is a psychopathic lunatic who likes to make speeches and deserves to be in a suit. He's my muse. Emelia is my muse of romance, suspense, horror, and macabre. She's also a smart alleck.

Umed: How come they get descriptions!?

--Airamé Phantom