Empyreal
empyreal (em-pir-ee-uhl) adj. - pertaining to the highest heaven in the cosmology of the ancients.

-Thirteen-

Windows, windows, windows. The words continued in a mantra in my mind. It seemed so painfully obvious to me, how could Tucker not see it? My thoughts were enveloped by what had happened for the rest of the day. I was so preoccupied I walked into – and then through – a door. I stopped, glanced around to make sure no one noticed, and continued slowly.

I have to go there. I have to go see what happened. What if there was a vital clue,

or—

"Danny? Hello?" Tucker's voice invaded my head and I realized I hadn't moved from the stairwell of the school. He put his hand on my shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. I sighed.

"Sorry, Tucker," I said, my voice low. Even I was surprised at how soft I spoke. He pushed his glasses up on his head and rubbed his face, staring at the floor.

"I know what you're going to do," he said, turning to me. I've never seen his face without his glasses before, and his eyes are quite striking. I was taken aback at how bright they were, like emerald orbs boring into me. It caught my breath.

"Just... when you're there... don't touch anything," Tucker said finally through gritted teeth. He pulled his glasses back down. "Don't touch anything, don't move anything, just – don't."

"Why not?" I asked. "What if—"

"I know you're convinced it was a ghost," Tucker said sternly, cutting me off. "But, in the more likely chance she was actually kidnapped, police will need those close."

"But—"

"Danny! Please, just stop!" Tucker cried out, standing in front of me. I closed my mouth, frowning at him. "Danny, please listen to me. Her family is wealthy. There are numerous reasons why she would be kidnapped. She could be dead – or worse, dying. Being tortured. Please, just... just don't make it any worse than it is." Tucker just looked at me, hiking his backpack higher onto his back.

Tortured?

"Does... does that happen?" I asked, feeling foolish as soon as the words left my lips. Tucker nodded solemnly.

"I know you're not used to humanity, but you've seen the results of what we can do," Tucker said, his voice tingeing with sadness. Now that I thought about it, it never fully occurred to me the process of how the souls of the damned ended up in the Zone. Just that... they were there.

"Do you want to come with me?" I asked tentatively. Tucker sighed deeply and shook his head.

"No. This... this isn't something I can do right now," he admitted. "But if you find something, anything, that proves your theory right... I'll help you any way I can." I smiled at him and held out my hand – I've finally gotten used to human connection.

"You promise?"

Tucker looked up at me and smiled as well. He grasped my hand and shook it firmly.

"Always."

Her room was in shambles. Her black duvet and plum sheets were thrown over her bed, one of the posts with deep scratches, like fingernails. Her short bookcase was toppled and her books splayed everywhere, pages torn from their binding. I remained intangible the entire time I was in her room so as not to disturb anything, but everything was disturbed in itself. Her skylight windows were jagged and cracked, shards of glass littering the floor. Whatever happened here, it looks like it was violent.

I shivered. I had to hang onto her bedpost to keep myself from collapsing from the shock. I wandered over to her mirror, which was cracked. There was a lot of destruction in her room, as if a great struggle happened here. It didn't seem like "minor damage" to me.

"Dear God," I murmured. I walked around the room surveying all the damage. This was something beyond human, I was sure of it.

Whatever happened, it was clear that Sam was taken straight from her bed – there was no mistaking that. Despite this, the rest of the room seemed... odd. I wandered over to the skylights, phasing through the thrown books and yellow police tape. I couldn't figure it out. I was so sure that the problem was a ghost that I was seeing flaws everywhere. If she was taken from her bed, was she dragged all around the room? How come the mirror was broken? Why were both skylights broken? Why was there nothing left? I smiled. This had to be a set-up. There's no way a human could do all this.

...right? I crossed my arms and stared up straight through the skylights. It was then I noticed the blood on the jagged edges of glass. Frowning, I hovered up closer to the windows, inspecting them. There it was, shining in the late afternoon sun like dangling rubies. I could feel my heart sinking. If she was taken by a ghost, why would there be blood on the window...

"It was horrible," I heard a voice say. I spun around and went invisible as quickly as possible, trying to make my breathing slow down to a normal page. Sam's mother was in the doorway, and two police officers had walked into the room, standing and surveying the horrible sight. One was holding a clipboard with several sheets of paper; the other was standing with his hands on his hips, staring up at the walls.

"The banging, the screaming..." the red-headed woman said in a soft voice. I watched her shiver physically in the doorway, hanging onto the doorframe like it was holding her up. I had the feeling it was.

Banging? Screaming?

Was it possible she was taken by a human?

"And you didn't see anything? Your positive?" the officer who was staring up asked, probably for the dozenth time. The woman didn't answer.

"Mrs. Manson, we're going to have another sweep of the room done as soon as the first round of results come through," the first officer said, writing something down and handing it to her. "I know it will be hard, but please stay out of here until we do."

"If you need help, or anything," the second officer said, placing his hand on the frail woman's shoulder, "call this number. This woman can help."

"Th-thank you," she replied, breathing deeply. "I-I just—I just don't understand why anyone would want to take her. Earlier this month she was involved in a horrible accident and now—" She covered her face with her hands and knelt on the floor, her entire body trembling.

At that moment, I was furious. Whoever, or whatever took Sam... it had to pay. Sam had already gone through so much in such a short time. If Sam was getting treated like this, who was next in my life to get hurt?

I couldn't concentrate. I had to leave. What if she was taken by a human? I can track ghosts fine – they leave such a distinct trail it's almost easy. But a human? They outnumber us on their plane by the millions. How was I supposed to find her now?

I phased outside and collapsed onto a bench. The sky above me was darkened and clouds were rolling in by the droves. I had never felt pain like this. I felt like my heart was on fire, and my chest was filled. I almost couldn't breathe.

I didn't even realize that someone had sat down beside me on the bench, until I heard a soft beeping. I turned and Tucker was there, as always. I was relieved to see him there. He always seemed to know where and when to be somewhere.

"So? What was the verdict?" Tucker asked, turning to me. I shook my head.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "It seems ridiculous to me that all that damage in her room was caused by just her and someone else –"

"—I thought it was minor?—"

"—but, it seems that, well... she may actually have been taken by a human." Tucker nodded gravely.

"That's what I thought." We sat in silence for a time, me thinking everything over. If this was really unrelated... then another thing I had to worry about had just crept onto my plate. I felt as if I were teetering at the edge of a canyon and there was nothing to keep me from falling over the edge besides my own sense of balance. I even gripped the bench, digging my fingers into the wood.

"Phantom... Danny," Tucker said, correcting himself. "Since you are Danny..."

"There must be something we overlooked. There must be some sort of, I don't know, security or something, right?" I asked, turning to Tucker. Tucker glanced up at the brick brownstone house, and suddenly his eyes widened.

"There is," he said, pointing up. "Look." I followed his fingers and saw what appeared to be a black shining ball mounted on the edge of the building. One was over the front door and there was another at the very top, almost flaring down at us.

"Security camera," Tucker said, turning to me. "Danny, this could be it."

"Well, let's go look at it," I suggested, standing up. My heart leapt. Humans have so many techniques for keeping track of each other... it was amazing. Tucker shook his head though, which surprised me.

"No, not now. Later. Meet me here at midnight tonight," Tucker said, standing up beside me. He pulled out his PDA and punched in some numbers, glancing up at me. A smile crept onto his face.

"I thought you didn't want to help me," I said cautiously. "Why the change of mind?" Tucker sighed heavily.

"...I guess... I don't know, to be honest," he replied. "I guess in a way it was a change of heart. Sam is my friend and... I don't know why, but I feel... I feel safer with you involved," he said slowly. He pocketed his PDA. "I feel like I can do more when you're around. Things that I never even dreamed I'd be capable of doing, like fighting, or breaking into an advanced security system," he said, gesturing up at the security cameras. "It's almost like I know that I'll be okay around you, because..." he trailed off. We looked at each other. I shivered violently as a chill ran through me.

"Is there a name for the feeling that you've done something before?" I asked. He nodded.

"Déjà vu," he replied. "Normally it's the feeling that you've been in a very specific situation before but actually never have."

"I get that feeling practically all the time," I muttered. Tucker raised his eyebrows.

"Weird, because it's happening to me a lot more now... " Tucker added. "For example, I feel like I'll be okay and I can actually do this and find Sam because... it's not the first time I've had to." We stood there, looking at the building.

"So, here at midnight?" I reaffirmed. Tucker nodded.

"You're good at ghosts; I'm good at computers. Together, maybe we can actually find Sam."

"I really, really, really hope you're right," I said, and began walking with Tucker away from the house. I stopped and looked back up at it, back at the darkened window I knew led to Sam's room.

Please, please, please be safe, I thought to myself. Please.

Heeeeeeeeey.

When I start things, I try really, really hard to finish them. I'm determined to finish this. Also, sorry that the first update in two years is rather slow... oh the plot.