Chapter Two, pt 2:
That night, after everyone else had gone home, Beth wished she hadn't let Gosalyn say a single word. It was all ridiculous, she knew that, but as she carted the pizza boxes over to the trash and spent some time picking at the carpet in the living room to make sure there was no cheese ground in, the idea poked at the back of her mind like a child poking at a sore spot just to see if it would hurt. They said the pizza slid across the table by itself...
Well, that was just silly. It wasn't Launchpad's fault, of course - accidents happened, she didn't bear him any ill will over it, but it was obvious that he had just knocked the pizza with his hand and not noticed it.
Have you had anything else move around without seeing anyone do it?
She shook her head and set her mind firmly. No ghosts, no poltergeists, just a few people with overactive imagin-
The thump from upstairs was very loud this time.
Beth suddenly was very aware of exactly how dry the inside of her mouth was. She tried to swallow, but couldn't and choked a little. I should get some water, she thought, but she couldn't make herself move. Yes. Water. Any moment now, I will get up and get some water.
Instead, she knelt on the carpet for more than a minute, listening intently, even though her own heavy breathing was the only sound she could make out. Finally she shook her head and said aloud, "This is stupid. Get up there and show yourself how stupid it is." And with that, she summoned every ounce of willpower she had and rose to her feet.
Her determined stride lasted all the way upstairs and down the hallway, even in spite of her brief stop to turn the hall lights on - which she knew was very logical, because otherwise she could easily trip. She reached the sewing room, and without stopping pushed the door wide open. It gave easily, having been slightly ajar as she usually left it, and she stepped inside and turned on the light.
At first she nearly screamed - there was a body on her floor! A moment later, however, through a mind slightly fogged by fear and an accelerated heartbeat, she recognized it as her new sewing dummy. Perfectly understandable that she didn't recognize it, she'd only gotten it a couple of days ago, sure, but she still felt foolish. "See?" she said out loud, as if being loudly vocal would prove that she was truly alone. "You're just chicken." She moved towards it and picked it up. Behind her, the curtains blew slightly, as if in a gentle breeze through an open window... But the windows remained closed. Shadows stirred in the corner, and Beth stepped right by them without noticing.
The curtains blew more forcefully as the nonexistant breeze picked up strength, and the overhead lights flickered. Beth looked up instantly, frowning slightly, and a moment later started humming to herself with a deliberate volume. I am NOT superstitious, she told herself.
And then it hit her.
She had locked this door this morning, and not been back inside since - not even when she had brought the costume material upstairs. That was in her bedroom.
The next thing she knew, she was downstairs, picking up the phone in horribly shaking hands and fumbling at the keys, praying desperately that he hadn't left for his patrol yet, gasping and unable to make herself look back at the banister, back towards the room. The phone rang four or five times, as her tension increased with every ring, before someone picked up. Gosalyn answered finally, "Hello?"
Beth's throat locked. She nearly let it all come out of her in a pouring flood but instead she took a breath, and after a long pause said carefully, "It's Beth, um, is Drake still there?"
"Sure," Gosalyn said, and there was a pause and a sound of some fumbling before Drake's voice came on, sounding a little fed up in that familiar way.
"Beth, I'm just out the door. Is this important?"
"I - I need you to come over. Right away. Please. I'm sorry to interrupt you but I - I just really need you to come over, please, okay?" When he agreed, she thought she heard some concern in his voice, and it comforted her a bit.
He had to change out of costume first, and thus it took him longer to get there than she was evidently comfortable with. By the time they got to her door, she was wielding some kind of meat-tenderizing mallet as a defensive weapon when she met them. "Is everything okay?" he asked, stepping in and looking around. Launchpad followed and immediately put an arm around her as she dropped the mallet to the floor and nearly collapsed against him.
"I don't know," she said, her voice muffled as it came from against Launchpad's jacket, "I just - I don't know..."
Gosalyn came in behind them. "Is it the ghosts?"
Drake turned on her. "Gosalyn!"
"Sorry. Insensitive, huh?"
"To say the least. That, and I very specifically told you to stay at home."
His daughter blinked innocently. "You did? You musta been mumbling again, I didn't hear you..."
Drake grit his teeth and turned back to Beth, who was still clinging to a happily supportive Launchpad, but at least was showing her face again. "Now - what's the problem?"
She let out a shaky sigh. "It - upstairs. I think there's someone in the house. I left a room locked, and I just went upstairs and it was open, and there were things falling over in there. I think someone's been in here, Drake, I didn't know what else to do."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and told himself that she'd been right to do it. Heck, you live two houses down from a crimefighter, it doesn't make the least bit of sense not to call him. Besides, this was exactly the sort of thing he was going out to fight, anyway, although he'd have preferred it if it were obviously caused by Megavolt or Quackerjack or someone. "Okay. We'll search the house, okay? Starting with the basement. LP, you come with me; Beth and Gos, stay here and make sure no one leaves." Beth didn't look pleased at having to give up Launchpad's comforting skills, but she nodded. Gosalyn had the good graces not to turn on the TV and resume watching the slasher flick she'd been getting into at home.
The search of the basement proved fruitless, but it was followed by a search of the entire first and second stories, and then the attic. Nothing was found - nothing was out of place. At this point, Drake's earlier decision not to blame it on Beth was wearing him a little thin. "Well. That's a good hour wasted," he muttered, coming back down from the attic as Beth looked at him with wide eyes, and Gosalyn seemed about to ask what it had been like up there. "No, there were no bones or anything, young lady."
"How boring," she said dismissively.
"I'm sorry, Drake," Beth said in a small voice. "But - but I locked that door. I know I locked it. And I haven't been in since - look, I even put the things I was working on in my room, not in there! I locked that door, and someone unlocked it!"
Drake looked doubtful. "How do you know you locked it today, and not yesterday?"
"Because I locked it today! This morning, just before I went to get Launchpad! I know what I remember, Drake!" She stared at him, and he stared back, and finally he sighed.
"Fine. It was this door here?" He gestured to the door to the sewing room, still standing partially open. The light was off, although Beth didn't remember if she'd been the one to turn it off or not. When she nodded, he checked the doorknob. It wouldn't turn. He blinked. "It's still locked," he said quietly. Quickly, he added in a louder voice, "Not that that means anything! You probably have a loose lock, and it just didn't keep and swung open. Happens all the time." Turning to Gosalyn, he whispered, "Not one word."
Beth was looking at the floor, obviously embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I was just so scared-"
"Think nothing of it," he said lightly, noticing with no real surprise that Launchpad's arm was around her shoulders again. "We can't ALL have nerves of steel... Defending civilians is what Darkwing Duck does." Even, he thought in a much more sour tone, when they ask him to essentially get their cat out of a tree.
She sighed and walked them down the stairs again, unconsciously avoiding the wall at the end of the hallway. "I was wondering though - what do you think might be making everything fall over in the room that way?"
Drake had no idea, but he wasn't about to let on to that. "Welllll, the... furnace, probably! Sure, if it's right over the furnace it might be shaking because of that." Gosalyn made an odd snorting sound and Drake glared at her.
Beth frowned. "Launchpad just looked at the furnace," she said thoughtfully.
"Well, like I said, I don't know that much about 'em," Launchpad pointed out reluctantly. "I mighta missed somethin'."
"Yeah..." She still sounded uncertain. "Or it could be the pipes, right...? Something to do with the inside of the house?"
"Sure, sure," Drake said. Each moment that passed, he was more eager to get out and start his patrol. "I'm sure it's nothing, if you have any other problems come by my place and talk to Gosalyn - see you tomorrow, g'night."
Unfortunately, the expression on her face showed how worried she still was, and he couldn't just let that go without feeling guilty. C'mon, LP, you do something. This is your area. Attempting a little prodding, he said, "Wellll, if you're really worried about having the house being all empty, one of us could always stay overnight..."
Launchpad waffled for a second longer - it had been a while since they'd had a good fruitful night of patrolling, Drake acknowledged - but then he took the bait. "I can stay on the couch, if ya want! DW doesn't need me on patrol every night."
Perfect. Unfortunately, Beth shook her head. "No, I couldn't do that. Darkwing needs you," she said with a smile, and Drake's ego felt a little indignant at the suggestion. "It's okay, I'll be fine. I don't want to put you out."
"Aw, it's no trouble at all!" Launchpad said eagerly. Darkwing elbowed him.
"Don't push it!" he whispered. His sidekick nodded. "If you're sure," he said one more time, praying that this really was the point where he could leave. She nodded. "Great. Night!" And with that he started off back to his own house.
Gosalyn shrugged. "I think for Dad, that was a remarkably controlled effort at politeness. See ya tomorrow, Beth."
Launchpad lingered a moment longer, then said, "Um, if you're really sure, I'm gonna go with DW tonight. Okay?"
"Of course!" Beth said with a sincere nod. "Thanks so much for coming over."
"No problemo," he answered casually. Beth smiled. For some odd reason, she really liked hearing him say that. He gave her another hug before he left, and she shut the door after him - and locked it for the first time in a while.
She locked her bedroom door as well, and pulled the blanket up over her face, leaving just a slot for air to come in. Sleep came only after a rather uneasy hour and a half.
She was in the hallway again, running, and the woman was ahead of her. She could always see the woman, coming closer, even around the corners and forks in the halls...
The woman in white was on the floor, standing - no, floating, her arms at her sides. She ran to her, down the stairs, and suddenly she was right there.
She was beautiful - but sad, so sad, and her eyes were dark with misery and time. Beth...
Who are you?
Leave, Beth, while you can.
No - this is my house. I'm not going anywhere. You have to leave.
She looked even sadder and repeated, Leave. You must leave.
The walls wrapped around them, stairs and doors and windows all spiralling into a cocoon that surrounded them, and the woman began to wail, expressing her misery though her mouth never opened, and she sobbed and cried out without sound.
A final hollow moan echoed in Beth's head as she awoke, a scream dying in her throat, and she lay in her bed in terror before the real world solidified around her. That was the worst one yet, and always the same halls, the same woman... She lay silently, letting her heartbeat slow, and checked the clock. Just 2am. Time to get back to sleep, to forget all of this, then wake up early and finish the costume. Just a dream. Nothing to worry about.
Then the noises started again, from down the hall, and they were louder than they'd been the night before. Footsteps - Squirrels, probably, don't get worked up. You just have squirrels - and, unmistakably, the sounds of things moving. Not falling - moving. No more thumps, but footsteps and movement and Gosalyn was right -
No, no, no, stop it! She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the blanket back over her head. There's no one there. I know there's no one there!
The sounds quieted. Nothing for about ten minutes, and she relaxed enough that her eyelids were starting to fall again...
And then something ran down her hallway.
Squirrels it's squirrels just stupid brainless squirrels, oh god, PLEASE let it just be squirrels...
The footsteps went past her door at top speed, then stopped. Nothing ran back, nothing went down the stairs, they just stopped at the end of the hallway. If there was really someone, he must still be there. How could I have thought I imagined it last night? she asked herself, almost in tears. I heard that. I know I did. Was it so loud then?
More noises began in the sewing room - dull thuds, as though more things were falling over, but they sounded so far away she couldn't imagine what they were. These quieted, and more footsteps - lighter ones this time - pattered through the hallway and down the stairs.
Straining to hear, she picked up signs of them in her living room, running back and forth, disappearing for a moment - into the kitchen? She had a vision of the runner dashing about the room, through the kitchen door, that would sound just about right - then back near the stairs, around some more - then quiet. Nothing.
She waited. The silence extended, and she let herself breathe again.
Squirrels. I'll call an exterminator. It was squirrels.
She told herself that until she managed to fall asleep again, more than an hour later.