"You really were." At some point, Sam had snuck up on them. Or maybe she had been there all the time. Wes was still kinda out of it. "It's been a month."

A month. Wes and Danny both dwelled on this thought. Time travel? Amnesia? Stasis? Had they been in a coma? Was this a dream? A prank they were all in on?

A scream. A crash. More screaming. The dark-skinned girl came running down the tunnel.

"Valerie!" exclaimed Danny and Sam at the same time.

Valerie saw them and shouted.

"A ghost is inside the Penitentiary. Take cover. Sam, with me!" They ran off.

A ghost! Was it Undergrowth? Or Vortex? Or some other ghost that decided they wanted to be trouble. Ghosts were always trouble. Exhibit A: Danny. Exhibit B: Vlad.

"C'mon, Mr. Weston," said the nurse, helping him to stand. She led him away from the commotion, after Danny, who was being held up by the good doctor.

The screams didn't get quieter, as Wes had expected.

"We have to go back," moaned Danny. "We have to help them."

"You're in no condition to fight."

"I've fought in worse states."

"Doctor's orders."

"Always hated that phrase."

"Cut it out, the ghost will hear us," Wes demanded.

"I heard that," said a voice behind them, then they were engulfed in - sand?

All Wes could see was sand. All he could hear was it writhing in his ears. The only thing he could feel was his heart beating hard and fast in his chest - Oh, and sand. He was buried in it, drowning in it. He couldn't breathe. A hand grabbed him, pulling.

He breached the surface. He gasped raggedly. The nurse still held him, still pulled. She was surprisingly strong, for such a small woman. The further they ran from the lit, sand-festered main corridor, the darker it got.

Wes couldn't see, but Nurse led him, unafraid and unfettered. She moved like she could see. But that didn't make sense.

"Nurse, where are we going?" No answer. "Nurse!" Nada. "Hey!"

And then the sand was back. It lapped at his feet, climbed his legs, wrapped around his torso. The nurse was no longer the nurse. For one, nurses didn't glow.

She was no longer a she. He was a ghost! A shapeshifter. He rose in the air, green enveloping his fists. The energy lanced out, striking the sand around Wes, which retreated, dropping Wes to the ground.

"Now, now. Is that any way to treat your elders?" A mummy was chasing them. Oh my god. "Bertrand, you wound me."

"I'm keeping the boy. The ichor is mine, Hotep-RA," said 'Bertrand'. 'Hotep-RA' snarled. Wes took advantage of their distraction and bolted down a side tunnel. He heard blasts and yelling and crashing behind him and it only spurred him faster.

The deeper Wes ran, the darker and dustier it got. He sneezed. He slowed down, speed-walking with his hand trailing the wall next to him. Then he heard footsteps.