A.N.: Okay, it's been awhile, but I've finally kicked my own butt back into writing now that I have spare time. I love spring break. So, by advice from a reviewer long ago, I have begun my own scary story involving our favorite Beboppers. Here is part one; it's short and merely gets the story in motion, sets a premise. More like a teaser now that I think of it. . . Sorry :P

Disclaimer: I own stuff, but not Bebop. The idea for this particular story is mine though, so uh, Beware of Gremlins who delight in torturing plagiarizers.

~~~Part 1~~~

Checking her breathing, Faye quieted herself and readied her gun. Her next paycheck had just rounded the corner, his faded silhouette flickering in her peripheral vision. It had been awhile since the last bounty and desperation ran higher as the funds ran lower. It had also been awhile since a chase came to a close somewhere other than a city. Usually the perp was apprehended in an alley, a bar, or like last time, a public urinal.

It never changed.

Except this time.

The condemned mansion in the ghost town on Earth was older than dirt; its beams cracked with every step the huntress took down the hall. Faye had never heard of Loteko Manor but that was the name emblazoned on the corroded bronze plaque at the front gate. If she cared enough afterwards, Faye thought she might ask Ed to do some online research regarding the former owners.

The halls were shadowed except for every so often when shafts of weak light pushed through the cracks between the molded boards nailed across the windows. Dust billowed languidly past Faye and continued on to other corners and spaces, while a beetle scurried along the mildewed floor border and disappeared into a crevice in the floor. The whole house was filled with the pungent stench of decay which Faye wrinkled her nose to and pressed on after the bounty.

A shuffle to her right caused Faye to swing the nozzle of her gun over, taking a chunk of the drywall with it. The shuffle dissipated down the corridor where there were no windows and no chinks of moonlight cutting through to highlight the floorboards.

'Of all the places for a criminal to run. . .' Faye moaned inwardly, 'The things panic forces animals to do. . .' With that thought, Faye's grip tightened on her gun. Sweat cumulated on her brow as she came to the end of the hall, the door to the room hanging slant off it hinges.

'No where to run now, scumbag,' she sneered and sprang into the room. Her eyes had to adjust to the light which now seeped through the gossamer curtain pulled over the bay window. There was enough illumination for Faye to see the grand canopy bed, its cloth eaten away by moths and time; a chestnut vanity leaned against the wall to the left of the window, the reflection in the mirror distorted by a jagged crack in the glass; the wallpaper was cracked and peeling, but Faye could still faintly see faded roses printed upon the yellowed decor.

But amid the dead furnishings, standing in front of the window with his back to her, was the bounty. Faye aimed her gun, about to order him to raise his hands, when he suddenly spoke, his voice low it was as if he were talking to himself. His shoulders slumped, he whispered, "I'm here. Please stop. You said it would end if I came back. Please go away."

Puzzlement and frustration mounted with Faye's rising impatience, but the man continued to speak, this time in a language foreign to her:

'Miohi, jezi ni biosi. . .miohi. . ." Then his shoulders began shaking and Faye was surprised to see he was crying, repeating those words over again.

She had had enough, "All right, psycho, hands on your head! Turn around slowly!" The man did turn, his eyes were bloodshot and lined with purple rings. His cheeks sagged making it seem the cheekbones jutted out further than normal. Faye suddenly realized she was trembling. Her gun nozzle wavered as she silently began wishing Spike or Jet was there. Just as company, backup, any reason as long as she wasn't alone with this man. Then her ego smacked her upside the head and she growled to herself, 'Suck it up, girl. You've handle worse on your own.'

She re-aimed her gun and ordered again, "Hands up, pal, unless you want a bullet through your head." The man didn't move, only stared with exhausted eyes at his captor. He crossed his arms across his chest as if hugging himself and began sobbing again. Faye sighed, 'Damn it if I don't always get the freaks.' For the third time she ordered, "Hands up!" her voice now a shout. He did begin to raise his arms, he brought his hands up to his head, and Faye could feel relief washing through her and started to reach for the cuffs. But he wasn't surrendering. Instead, he covered his ears with his hands and shouted, "GIVE ME PEACE!"

He then suddenly lunged at Faye, who uncharacteristically screamed and stumbled back. The fugitive tackled her and pinned her down, his hands gripping her neck choking the air from her. He continued screaming but again in that strange tongue, "LEMM NI! LEMM NI!"

Her face turning all shades of purple, Faye had no choice but to pull the trigger. Three shots shattered the silence that once filled the decaying manor. Her assailant slumped over, his blood flowing freely onto the worn floral rug. Faye sat up, her entire body shaking. She crawled away from the dying man until her back pressed against the frame of the canopy bed. Her chest heaved as she gasped for the air deprived of her lungs and listened as the man began talking in more gibberish. He paused after a moment and turned his head to her whispering something inaudible. Against all her instincts and reason, Faye crept closer to hear what he was saying. More gibberish to her, but then he murmured low, "They let me rest. . .whispering dead. . ."

It was silent for a moment before Faye realized he was gone, his eyes glazed over. 'Whispering dead? What the heck does that mean?' But Faye didn't bother lingering on it. He was obviously a lunatic. It was when she reached to pick up her gun that she heard the voice. It sounded as if someone were murmuring something right behind her. Spinning around, Faye saw only the bed. Her heart rate slowly returned to normal as she took a step toward the door. Another whisper pierced the silence like a needle to her right ear. Faye's eyes snapped to the right observing the jagged reflection in the vanity mirror. Her face split down the middle, the left side shifted downward.

It unnerved her to see familiarity distorted so, and the whispering, though the words were in audible, still seemed to reverberate in her head. She turned all around examining every inch of the room and like before, finding nothing. She was alone.

~~~End P.1

A.N.: Told you it was short. I'll get cracking on the rest if anyone feels that I should, so let me know. Have a nice day.

:P