Lucy:

"So, are we about ready?" Holly asked the room.

I nodded and Kate made a small sound of agreement.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come? I know those two are as stable as a chair with one leg, but you know you can count on me." George offered sincerely.

Holly and Kate both turned to me.

"You know, George, I think it's best if you sit this one out. But maybe you could stay close to the phone in case of emergency?" I suggested.

He nodded and went back to his research. "Uh, I might just pop out for a second. I need the library" he decided three seconds later.

"You'll need to hurry if you're going to make it," Kate pointed out. "They close in an hour."

"Not where I'm going," he mumbled distractedly and threw notebooks and biscuits in a satchel.

I sighed and shook my head. Who knew where the hell George went anyways?

By silent agreement, we picked up our bags and slowly made our way out with him.

Once outside, George went in the other direction and the three of us headed towards the tube station.

Kate's boots had the sort of heels that made an annoying 'clack'-sound with every step she took, and it was slowly, but surely driving me crazy.

"Would you look at those legs? Those are some beautiful legs. Do you think she does ballet in her free time? She looks like the type who does ballet. You know, willowy, elegant, poised. Unlike you."

"Shut up," I snapped.

Kate looked at me with wide eyes.

"It's fine," Holly assured her. "You get used to it."

"I wish I still had a nose. Could you get a bit closer and tell me what she smells like? I bet she smells like apples. Or caramel. She doesn't seem like the classic rose-water girl. I bet she –" I reached back and shut the lever on the jar with a satisfying 'click'.

The train was close to full. It was one of the last ones where people kept their heads down and looked at their watches, conscient that they were cutting it close in getting home before the dead took over the city. People with grocery bags and briefcases were hurrying home to close the shutters and turn on the television for the latest comedy, hoping to forget the horrors outside.

It was odd seeing Kate casually sitting in her seat. Somehow it seemed like too common a setting for her, with the plastic benches someone had been tagging with black marker and the discarded pieces of food wrappings and Styrofoam cups.

Either way, it was plain odd just to see her like this. She had a button-up denim jacket that wasn't too fancy. She wore simple black leggings and a grey skirt. The light brown wig made her look softer somehow and combined with the easy smile on her face, she might have been a completely different person.

"Brown hair suits you," I remarked, thoughtlessly.

Her smile widened and showed off her neat pearly white teeth that I had barely known she'd had until recently.

Holly sent me a wide encouraging smile as well from behind Kate's back, but I had no idea what that was about.

"Thank you so much! I was rather sceptical about it, but I'm starting to like it too," she beamed.

I nodded. "It looks good."

Holly took over, complimenting her on her skirt and the two continued taking turns to praise each other's fashion sense. It was a strange thing to observe. The two of them barely knew each other, but they were obviously incredibly supportive of one another. Either that or they had entered some sort of unspoken competition of out-complimenting each other.

By the time we reached our destination, Kate was closely examining and praising the tips of Holly's hair which apparently weren't at all dry. I raised an eyebrow at them and wordlessly we got out.

It was a five-minute walk from the station to the fairground where the theatre stood, tall and would have been an impressive building if not for the algae covered and cracked walls. A few tiles were missing from the roof and swallows had built their nests near the large columns, causing them and the floor to be covered in waste. Around the theatre, wonky tents in faded fabric had been erected, where people would throw away their money in hopes of winning a polyester stuffed animal in various neon colours. It was the end of a hot day and people were deflatedly leaving the place with leftover candyfloss and empty pockets.

"God, this is depressing." Kate remarked with a nose-wrinkle. "Seriously, this is the place where childhood dreams go to die."

Heat was radiating from the ground and the smell of dust and drying grass was in the air. An iron fence like the ones they use on construction sites, was surrounding the lot, except for a small booth where a young red-headed girl was counting money from that day's ticket sale.

"Excuse me," Holly said carefully, not to startle the girl as we went closer.

She stopped counting money and gave us an insincere smile. "We're closed. Can't sell you any tickets." Then she returned to counting money.

"No, but we do need to get in. Is Lew Tufnell around somewhere?"

The girl gave us a look. "He's in there. Onstage. But you won't wanna go in. Soon she will come out. You'll want to be far away from here,"

"Have you seen her then?" Holly asked.

The girl looked around to see if anyone was looking. Then she leaned backwards into the booth as if she was hiding.

"Well, the other night, I –"

"There you are!"

A rotund man was coming towards us. His face was bright red and his nose almost purple in that way that shows close company with wine. His clothes were in outrageous, clashing colours and I wondered if he might stand in as a clown sometimes.

"Tracey, what are you doing? Let them through! Liven up, will you," he barked, making the girl flinch. My jaw clenched a bit.

Then he turned towards us. "I've been expecting you. The beautiful miss Holly. And I see you've brought your girlfriends,"

Holly frowned minutely as he stood, looking us up and down like he was examining meat at the supermarket. I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

Kate, however stood proud with her hands on her hips and stared him down. She was in full Fittes-mode, I realised. Authoritative, superior, and stone-faced.

"I believe we have a case to get started on?" she prompted coolly.

The man faltered a bit, and I couldn't help the small smile that stretched on my face. Kate winked at me when he turned his back.

"Right, yes. Terrible business, terrible business." He mumbled. "Young Charley Budd is in a right state. I had to lock him in my caravan. The way he's moaning and whining. You're his only hope, I'm afraid."

Kate raised an eyebrow at him. She had been briefed about the case as well, but neither of us had been quite prepared for this client.

"He started screaming this afternoon. Disrupted Coco the Clown's toddler party in the main tent. Had to give away refunds," he lamented with a headshake.

Holly sent me a look as if to say; 'Can you believe this guy?'

He led us up the stairs and past the bird-poop covered columns. I knew it wasn't the season for swallows, but I couldn't help but glance upwards at the nests in slight paranoia.

We came through the double doors and into a brightly lit foyer. The marble floor was covered by a carpet that was grey on the edges but brown in the middle. It smelled dusty, like an old attic. Heaven knows we've spent enough time in those to know the smell.

The walls had once been painted white and posters were hung in large frames with peeling gold paint. In a corridor off to the side, a girl was hurrying around with a hoover so fast that it didn't stay long enough in one place to actually suck up any dirt.

Another girl was packing away sweets in plastic boxes, in a small booth with practiced swiftness. There was a certain underlying nervous energy to her movements which showed clearly when she dropped one of the boxes with a curse.

"Erin! Careful!" Tufnell shouted.

The girl ducked her head and hurried to put the boxes in the cabinet and locking it. She almost ran out of the theatre when she finished.

"I apologise. We're a bit understaffed at the moment, what, with Sid and Charley out of the picture. We have the girls of course, but they just aren't…" He trailed off with a straining sound and a pinched face, as if he was about to shit his pants. "You know what I mean."

Holly bristled, but Kate put a hand on her arm. "Mr Turfbell,"

"Tufnell," the man corrected her with a frown.

Kate's smile was perfectly polite, but cold as ice. "Of course. My apologies, but we're getting closer to nightfall and we're terribly worried about you and your staff. Perhaps you could show us where the ghost was seen?"

"Yes, of course, of course. Right this way."

He dabbed his hair with a large handkerchief and led us through another set of wooden doors, covered with dark red velvet.

As we came through the door, my breath caught in my throat. My experience with high culture was limited to say the least. My only experience with theatre was a school play when I was seven and that had been performed at the local church, which, sorry to say, wasn't exactly awe-inspiring.

This was something else though. The auditorium was much larger than I'd expected. A gigantic chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting a bright light over the entire room. Supported by several other lamps around on the walls and the ceiling, the light was reflected by filigree painted in gold in almost every corner imaginable.

Rows and rows of dark red velvet chairs faced the stage in front of us and when I looked up, I realised there were two curved balconies with even more chairs.

I had no issue with heights, but I couldn't keep my mouth from going a bit dry when I noticed how high up the second balcony was. I couldn't even make out the details of the filigree. What I could make out were two large projectors pointed at the stage and ropes attached to the balcony that seemed a bit out of place.

On the stage, two people were sweeping and tidying up from the last performance. The same nervous energy ran through them as the ones in the front. They were hurrying to finish their tasks as fast as possible, so they could get the hell out of there.

The acoustics in the circular room were incredible. I could hear them whispering about us all the way from the door.

The floor was tilted so when we were walking down the aisles between the chairs, we were walking downhill. Once at the bottom, we climbed a steep, narrow staircase on the side of the stage to get on it.

"Careful, the floor is tilted," Tufnell warned us. I was about to tell him that it had been tilted all along, when I realised that this tilt was in the other direction. I felt like I might be getting seasick. It was like a helter-skelter.

The two youths stopped sweeping when Tufnell managed to drag himself up onstage.

"Off – off you go. Hurry up," he ordered between deep breaths.

It was hot up there. The projectors and the lights that came from a beam above, increased the temperature onstage with at least a couple of degrees. It was worth keeping in mind when we took readings.

"This is it," Tufnell spread his arms out dramatically. "This is the very spot where La Belle Dame met her terrible end."

"And what's all this for then?" Holly gestured at some things off to the side.

"The crash mat is for the trapeze act and the boxes there contains items for the magic show. Lots of little secrets hidden there. Our stage manager designed them. You'll of course want to see where poor Sid died? It's stage left, in the wings.

We dropped our bags on the stage and Holly and Kate went with Tufnell. I stayed on stage to get a feel for the place.

It was a strange feeling standing there alone in the silence. I don't know why but I felt like doing something silly, like a cartwheel or even sing a song. I shook my head at the notion. Now, standing on the stage, I was almost completely blinded by the lights. I couldn't see the second balcony at all. I could barely make out the first one. Dust was flying around in the air from the recent sweeping, looking like tiny bits of snowflakes. I blew a bit out in the air to see them swirl around.

I felt tempted to take off my jacket in the heat but if the ghost we were dealing with was as dangerous as we expected, it wouldn't do to leave my arms exposed. Any sudden bursts of plasm and I might be dead.

I knelt down to touch the rough painted floorboards and opened my senses.

There was a strange tension in the air. Rustling of clothes and footsteps of many people, walking slowly to find their seats. A low murmur as people excused themselves when walking in front of others and made themselves comfortable and ready to be entertained.

I looked up and squinted through the sharp lights. Was that a person down there in the seats?

I slowly rose, but the noise didn't stop when I stopped touching the floor. I could hear Tufnell telling the others of Sid's death in the wings.

I turned slightly towards them and as I did, a chill moved along my spine. I could feel someone watching me. I looked out across the auditorium again, but no one was there.

I pulled my rapier as I scanned the seats. The murmur from the audience so long ago rose to a crescendo of applause. It came from all around me, flooding me with noise so loud I almost couldn't think.

Then it was silent. Now, the only thing I heard was my own breathing and rapid heartbeat.

I tried to focus but the sudden lack of sound had made me feel a bit disoriented. I blinked and shook my head before looking up.

Out of nothing, a large object had appeared. It was directly in front of me in the centre aisle.

It was a casket. Around it, the darkness had densified to a point where it looked like solid mass. Humps and spikes covered it entirely – the hilts and points of swords, that had been embedded in the box.

Slowly something came from the casket. A line that turned into drops of black, dripping with dull little splashes on the carpet. Another line followed it and then one more. The dripping turned into running and on the floor a puddle started amassing. It grew, and it too started flowing down the aisle it separated to flow between the chairs, but the general direction remained the same.

I stood on the edge of the stage, frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from the blood running down towards me.

Ghost-lock was not a new phenomenon to me. We all felt it from time to time, but with a bit of experience it could be overcome. The trick was to separate yourself from the reality you stepped into. The ghost's reality that is. You forcefully shut down your senses and removed yourself. It wasn't comfortable, but it was better than dying stupidly just standing there, staring.

I ripped myself out of the ghost-lock with a sharp intake of breath, as if I had been underwater for too long.

"She's here!" I yelled to the others. "She's here!"

Swinging my rapier, I leaped from the stage and down on one of the chairs. I could hear the springs complaining as I landed but there was no way I was touching that floor.

I climbed the chair and ran from backrest to backrest towards the casket. Cold emanated from it and as I got closer, the vision blurred, and the darkness billowed.

A woman's form moved towards me and with a cry, I took a final leap.

"Are you quite mad?" A very real girl sneered at me.

I dropped the rapier and changed direction with a contortion and landed awkwardly on the floor.

I turned around, and everything was clear again. The temperature was back to normal too.

The others were running up the aisle, with Tufnell on their heels.

"Lucy," Holly looked at me wide-eyed. "What happened?"

"She was here. The casket was here. Did none of you see the blood?"

Both Kate and Holly looked perplexed.

"We only saw you on the chairs," Kate said, looking around for clues.

Another girl came through the door, holding a few boxes. It was Tracey who we'd met at the entrance.

"Did any of you see anything odd here?" I asked them.

Tracey shook her head.

"Just you" the other girl bit out. She was quite tall, blonde, and evidently not quite satisfied with almost getting skewered.

"Well, it was here." I argued. "I saw it, I reacted, that's what I do. I'm sorry you were in the way," I shrugged.

"No one is doubting you, Lucy," Holly said before turning to the two girls. "You're Tracey, right?" The red-headed girl nodded. "And you are?" she asked the blonde.

She looked at Holly as if she were something the cat had dragged in, which had to be a first. People looked at me like that all the time, but generally speaking, Holly was never met with a single nose-wrinkle.

"This – young lady –" Tufnell wheezed. He had finally reached the rest of us after waddling down the aisle. "Who your friend nearly decapitated," he coughed, "Is Sarah Parkins – she was the one to save poor Charley Budd the other day,"

The girl in question pursed her lips. "I came to tell you, Mr Tufnell, that Charley started howling again. We need you to come and try to soothe him. He's upsetting everyone."

Tufnell wiped the sweat off his face with the handkerchief he had produced from his back pocket.

"Yes, yes, of course, I'm coming. Tracey, you stupid girl. What are you doing in here? Don't you have chores to do outside?" he shouted.

Tracey shrank. "Yes, but I was frightened, I asked Sarah if I could come inside –"

"Against my express permission!" he thundered, getting even more red in the face. "You'll feel the back of my hand if you don't get back to work."

Tracey swallowed hard but Holly cleared her throat. "Actually, Mr Tufnell, we would like to speak to both girls. They're direct witnesses to the haunting,"

He huffed, "I've told you everything relevant."

"With all due respect," she said smoothly, "while your instructions have been excellent, it really could make all the difference, getting a first-hand account of the events."

She smiled gently at the red-haired girl. "Tracey, you saw it most clearly, didn't you? On the stage and in the wings. You saw it with Sid Morrison."

Tracey nodded timidly, looking over at Mr Tufnell.

"I understand that the Spectre is supposed to be quite beautiful?" Holly prompted.

"Not to me," she said in a small voice and looked away. "But I think she was to Sid. She was wrapped in a golden light, up there at the stage,"

Holly hummed. "Maybe the stage is the Source. That's where she died after all."

Sarah Parkins shook her head. "Can't be. It's not the original stage. The floorboards were torn out and burned. So was the sultan's casket. You can read about it in books on the history of the theatre."

Tufnell gave her a fond smile in sharp contrast to the way he had scowled at Tracey. "She's a clever girl, our Sarah here. Committed to Tufnell's. Despite the death of poor Sid who she was most fond of in particular. I'm much obliged to her for carrying on in such tragic circumstances but we best get going now," he simpered.

They turned to leave but Sarah Parkins stopped. "It's not the stage you should be looking at. I saw the ghost in the dressing-room corridor, Girls saw it on the balcony, in the basement. You say you saw it here," she looked at me. "Be careful. You never know where it might show up next," she warned.

With that, they left.

"Well, that was cheerful, wasn't it?" Kate threw herself down on one of the chairs.

Holly looked around. "I hate to say it, but maybe Lockwood was right. We do have a lot of ground to cover."

I sighed and shook my head. "It would have been too dangerous for them."

"So, do we split up?" Kate suggested.

I bit my lip. "Perhaps, you two could go together. I have the skull with me."

Holly shook her head. "We ought to split in threes. Or else we won't be done for days, and you heard about Charley Budd. Apparently he doesn't have long. Is that alright with you, Kate?"

Kate shrugged with a rueful smile. "It's fine. I work alone more often than not these days,"

We set out immediately, armed with our rapiers and several salt bombs.

We agreed that I would go through the front of house, meaning the foyer, the stairs and two other public spaces, and a small exhibition of antique mechanical toys in display cases that moved if you put money in a slot.

Then there was the auditorium itself with the seats on the ground floor and both balconies which Kate was put in charge of. The last part, which Holly volunteered for, was the stage and the backstage region with the dressing-rooms, props and scenery and the creepy basement used for storage.

We measured temperatures and took note of miasma, sense of unease and fleeting chills.

Signs of supernatural activity was spread all across the building. A small drop in temperature here, a hint of creeping fear there. It was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

The most significant sign was when Kate measured a four-degree temperature drop on the middle of the stage, exactly where I had been standing.

When we finished our readings, we met for a briefing.

We laid out an iron circle in the foyer and got comfortable for a tea-break.

"So," I shifted a bit awkwardly. "Sorry for stealing your boyfriend I suppose." I shrugged, not really knowing what else to say for small-talk.

Kate laughed delightedly. A sound that felt so foreign, coming from her. "Don't worry about it. He was useless anyway. Can't recommend having a boyfriend who's in love with someone else." She winked.

"Right," I laughed awkwardly, reminding myself that it was just a ploy to give Kate a cover.

"Will you join us for breakfast in the morning?" Holly asked Kate. "Usually, we gather for breakfast after a spectacular case. I have a feeling this one is going to be spectacular." She looked around the room at all the posters hanging on the wall.

Kate tilted her head. "I might. Depending on how the case ends."

Holly opened a small plastic box with carrot sticks and I offered Kate a chocolate biscuit when I saw her disturbed facial expression.

"Ooh, don't mind if I do." She took one and moaned when she bit into it.

I grinned. I sort of found myself thinking that maybe this version of Kate Godwin wasn't entirely horrible.

"We should get moving," Holly prompted as she closed the lid on her carrots.

She and Kate moved out and I hung back a bit to take the jar out of my rucksack. I opened the lever.

The skull looked at me expectantly.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, she smells like raspberries. Are you happy now?"

"Did you ask if she does ballet?"

I scoffed. "No, I didn't ask her. How do you even work that into a conversation?"

The skull pouted.

"I'll see what I can do. Now, can you please help me with this lady?" I requested and got up with my rucksack on my back."

"Fine. We can talk about my freedom as we go along."

I sighed. "Not when we're on a case."

The ghost huffed. "But as soon as we get home, you'll close the lever. Some friend you are. I don't see you taping the mouth shut on Holly or Cubbins or Lockwood... Especially no tape on Lockwood's mouth. You're using that for something else," it taunted.

I rubbed my face. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, and then there's poor Quill, just waiting for you to even look at him. Bless his poor hea-"

"Shut it," I sneered.

"I did tell you I admire you for playing both boys at once. Bit like this lady, wouldn't you say?"

"I am nothing like her," I bit out.

"Are you sure? You're certainly breaking some hearts these days." I could hear the smirk in its voice.

I sighed. "What do I do, skull?"

"Kill 'em both."

"Do you have any sort of solution that doesn't involve homicide?"

"Maybe just stick to one? Kill the other. No actually, he would just kill himself anyways. Save you the trouble," the skull remarked gleefully.

I gritted my teeth. "Neither of them would do that."

"Not on purpose of course."

"I just won't be with any one of them. Problem solved." I shrugged.

"Are you sure you can do that? Like, are you really sure you can keep your hands to yourself if carrot top is standing there within reach, looking at you just so? Or is it Lockwood's stupid face that's going to make you cave? You can't keep status quo forever. I think Lockwood gave you a demonstration earlier."

I didn't bother answering that. "What would you even do with your freedom? You're still tied to your skull and I'm still the only one you can talk to" I asked instead.

"I would hang around, stretch my plasm. Do you realise how cramped this is?" it complained.

"That's all?"

"I might strangle a few people now and again. A little ghost touch here and there,"

I shook my head. "You're not exactly making a compelling case. Can you sense anything here?"

The skull sighed. "It's hard you know, through the silver glass. I could help you so much more if you let me out,"

"Just answer the question."

There was a moment of silence as the skull took in the place. "Mmm. She's a feisty one. Feisty and tricky, but not that strong. She envies the living and their vitality."

"She sucks out people's life force."

"Yeah well, that's because she craves it. She's trying to restore herself. Problem is that the life force she sucks out goes right through her. Not gonna lie, it's a rush, but it still leaves you sort of hungry and frustrated. Waste of time, really."

I wrinkled my nose "Have you killed people in that way?"

"Meh, it's happened once or twice."

I was probably less horrified than I ought to be.

"Just keep a lookout okay?"

"Sure, but be careful. She's everywhere."

We walked through the corridors in silence, except for an annoying jaunty tune the skull was humming in my ear. I recognised it from one of the films Quill had been showing it.

Nothing had happened for a while, so I was startled when a loud scream rang out.

Where did it come from? I ran into the auditorium where Holly came out onto the stage from the wings.

"There! She was there! Hanging, all white and limp," she exclaimed and pointed behind the curtain.

Kate burst through the door on the first balcony out of breath.

"Everyone okay?" she yelled. I gave her a thumbs-up.

I jogged down to the stage. "Did you see her face?"

Holly shook her head. "Honestly, I'm happy I didn't. Too much hair."

"What about you? Did you see anything?" I called out to Kate.

"Nothing so far," she yelled back.

I nodded. "We'll keep searching!"

Kate left and I turned back towards Holly.

"You alright, Hol?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. She just caught me off guard is all. She wasn't exactly beautiful; I'll tell you that though."

She was still trembling, so I gave her a piece of chocolate which she reluctantly took.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she was dead. A corpse. You need to be a special sort of weird to be attracted to that." She made a face.

"Yeah, that's a no-go, even for me."

A shrill scream pierced the building and Kate came storming in. Her rapier was drawn. She ran all the way to us. She stopped up in front of the stage and rubbed her face hard.

"Urgh! The water tank. That one with the mermaid Cubbins was talking about. She was all dead and uh – dissolving." She gagged and pulled out a water bottle.

"She's toying with you," the skull chuckled ominously.

I huffed a bit. "So, Holly, you got the Hangman's daughter. I got the Sultan's revenge, and you got the mermaid one." I looked at Kate, who nodded and drank some more water.

"She's going through her greatest hits, only this time she's showing herself as actually dead."

I kicked the bag with the chains in frustration. "We need to narrow it down somehow. That Parkins girl said that the original stage had been burnt along with the casket from the Sultan's revenge, so that's not the source."

"Maybe it's one of the props," Kate suggested. "Could be one of the swords that went through the casket. I can stay here and look through the boxes and the wardrobe," she offered.

I nodded. "Then Holly and I can keep her busy,"

"Sure," Holly agreed.

We separated again. I went out in the foyer and Holly went upstairs.

I looked around, tempted to break into the snack booth.

"Have you perhaps wondered why the ghost has appeared now? D'you think that someone around here might have a grudge against someone?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked the skull which was still in my rucksack.

"I've got to say it's sort of impressive in a way. Most ghosts have a bit of a build-up. You know, a few scratches, some cold spots, an apparition or two. This one is just BAM, full force. Doesn't that strike you as a bit odd?"

I shrugged. "Maybe they just hadn't noticed?" I suggested, even if I knew it would be unlikely.

"Could it be that maybe someone found a trinket somewhere and hid it?"

I frowned. "If they hid it intentionally, it might be anywhere."

I went down the corridor with the mechanical toys. There was something creepy about it. The too-wide smiles on the clowns, got to me especially. I had passed them several times, but now I studied them more closely, looking for anything that might be a Source, checking the temperature as I went.

The biggest case contained a large elaborate thing. It was a traditional caravan in a scenery with fake grass, trees, and a full moon. There was a sign above it that said ONE POUND. YOUR FORTUNE TOLD.

Below it was a slot and a silver hatch.

"Come on, do it. You know you want to,"

I scoffed. "It's just a silly machine."

"What, you don't have a pound to spare?"

As it was, I did have a pound, right in my pocket. I was already running my finger over it.

I shook my head and put it in. What was the worst that could happen?

A light came on inside the caravan and the side of it swung open to reveal a badly made witch, hunched over a crystal ball.

A cackling sounded and a strange brightness flared in the ball. It didn't look electric, but I couldn't be entirely sure because it disappeared as fast as it had come. Then the lights in the caravan flickered and doors and cabinets opened and closed, revealing all sorts of skulls and demons. Then, slowly as if it were tired, the caravan closed jerkily up again.

The hatch made a small clink when something pushed against it. I was about to open it when it made another small clink.

"Tell us then. What does it say?"

Oddly enough there were two slips of paper instead of one.

The first one read:

He will go into the dark.

The second one:

He will sacrifice his life for you.

I stared at them, before crumpling them up and putting them in my pocket. What sort of fortune was that? It was stupid. And it came from a machine. Stupid machine.

I tried very hard to keep the thoughts at bay, but somewhere in the crinkles of my brain, I couldn't help but think that there were two slips because there were two boys that filled my thoughts, and maybe the fortunes weren't really mine. I kicked the stand.

"Come on! What did it say? I bet it was awful."

"Oh, would you shut up," I snapped. "You never shut up,"

It didn't respond, which was odd. It really never shut up, and if it did, it wasn't because I told it to.

I took off my rucksack and took a look at it. The skull was mouthing something I didn't get and too late, I realised that the lever was closed. But I hadn't closed it.

I looked around and saw a warm golden light reflected in one of the display cases. It was small, but it slowly grew and multiplied.

I put my hand on my rapier and was about to draw it, but something about those lights was mesmerising. They condensed and from the lights came a woman and she was beautiful. Not just beautiful, she was breath-taking. And not because she was perfect either, but something about her called out to me. She was flawed. Just as I was.

I felt myself relaxing. This was silly. I couldn't fight her. I shouldn't

"You worry too much darling," she smiled at me and my hand fell from my rapier. She wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. She would protect me. I could see some of myself in her.

She beckoned for me to come with her and hesitantly, I followed. I took two steps and halted. Was this real? Was this a good idea?

"Come with me… Come…" she gave me a warm smile as if she was genuinely happy to see me.

I took another step and then another.

She floated elegantly along and before I knew it, we were at the double doors to the auditorium. What were we doing here?

"Come with me. I'll teach you," She smiled, like a mother who actually wanted her child.

What did she want to teach me? I followed her through the doors and into the auditorium. It was full. People were cheering.

She beckoned me to follow her and we walked down the aisle towards the stage.

"You're just like me,"

What did she mean? I wasn't half a beautiful as her.

"A heartbreaker."

No, that couldn't be right.

"I can show you how it's done." She laughed as if we were sharing a private joke and I could feel my lips involuntarily quirk in a small smile.

"You love the power it gives you."

Wait. I didn't want any sort of power. I frowned.

"To have them in your hand."

I shook my head. What was I doing here? Someone was shouting and it wasn't the audience.

I shook my head to try to hear what they were saying.

"Come to me," she beckoned again. "We're the same,"

I shook my head again. Something was wrong. The audience sounded more distant.

"We're the same," she repeated.

No. We weren't.

"Heartbreaker."

I didn't want to break anyone's heart. "No"

"You love the power you have over them,"

"No." I gritted my teeth.

"We're the same,"

"NO!" I screamed and ripped out my rapier. "We are NOT the same!"

In one motion, I sliced the sword upwards, dispelling the ghost for now and freeing myself from the trance she had put me in.

I collapsed on all fours, grappling for my throat, trying to breathe properly. Holly was next to me on her knees, out of breath, with eyes full of worry.

Up on the stage, Kate was frantically searching through the props.

"It went in that box! The yellow one," Holly screamed to Kate who leaped to it.

A few seconds later, it was as if a heavy sigh went through the entire theatre. Kate had contained the source.

I sat up and she came down to show us the blood-stained tiara.

Kate looked at me carefully. "Lucy, I didn't know that – you know. Liked girls."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You know like-like."

"Oh." I blinked a bit. "I hadn't thought of that."

Holly blanched. "You think that's why it went after boys? Because they like girls?"

Kate shrugged. "Well, statistically speaking, it is mostly boys who like girls."

"And La Belle Dame did base her shows on seduction." I pointed out.

Holly made a face.

"I don't think that's why it went after me though. I was just… a bit vulnerable for a moment." I looked away.

Kate gave me a small smile and went to pack our things.

Holly gave me a one-armed hug. "Anytime you want to talk, I'm here," she whispered in my ear.

I swallowed but couldn't make myself respond with anything but a small nod. She got up to help Kate.

Something inside of me was deeply ashamed. I had lost control again. Just like that time with the boy and the bloody footprints.

But that wasn't all. I couldn't help but think that maybe they were right.

The skull and the ghost.

Maybe we were alike, La Belle Dame and me.

I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself and swiped furiously at the tears that were spilling out against my will.

For the first time in a long time, I wondered if maybe it wasn't easier just to leave. Not just leave Lockwood and co but leave London. I knew Newcastle well enough.

Surely no one would follow me there.

There would be no Quill to hold me and ask me to stay. There would be no Lockwood to kiss me.

There would be no pressure.

Just freedom.

Unfortunately, there was the unfinished business with Marissa Fittes.

Maybe I would go when that was over.

Yeah. Finish this and then I would take the train.

The others would get by without me. They did fine before they met me. They would do fine again.

That got a bit long.

I loved this case. I used to do a lot of theatre when I was younger, and Stroud really captured the ambience. The only thing he was missing was the heat on that bloody stage. Standing there, sweating buckets in a period costume is not for the faint of heart.

I hoped you enjoyed it.

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