Prompted only by the ding of the elevator arriving on the ground floor, Harriet stepped forward, her eyes trained on her bag as she dug through to find her mail key. She moved as she rustled through, narrowly dodging someone else as they made a beeline for the elevator before it closed. As she came to the door to the mailroom, she huffed, having no success with finding the key. She shook the bag, listening for the clinging of her key ring as it jostled. She rummaged one more time, finally feeling the metal tip brush against her hand. Drawing it out, she opened the door with her other hand, walking straight to her mailbox.
She jammed the key into the lock, struggling to turn it all the way. Furrowing her brow, she grabbed it with both hands, adding force by jimmying the handle until she finally heard a click and could swing the door open.
Great. Guess I'll call maintenance this week. Like I don't have a million other things to do, she thought as she stuck her hand into the dark compartment, feeling around for the mail. She made contact with a small stack of paper and pulled it out, locking the door and stepping to the counter next to the trash bin.
Bill. Junk. Election flyer. Junk. Bill. Bill.
She tossed the contents into two piles as she made her way through the stack, one onto the counter and the rest into the trash. She continued thumbing through the papers until she found a small white envelope. She turned it over, looking for any markings and finding nothing. An anonymous source?
Feeling her heart jump a bit, Harriet put the rest of the mail down, digging her nail under the tape that sealed the envelope and tearing it off. She flipped it open, pulling out the small, unimpressive-looking paper that was folded inside. Opening it up, she began reading the tight, hasty handwriting.
Dear Harriet,
I think it's time we called an end to this. The situation isn't ideal, but to stop talking over something so frivolous is absurd. We're two adults who can handle it as such.
I'm sorry for what I said. If you can manage the drive, come over on Friday. I'll make it up to you.
-Vlad.
Harriet squinted. She read it again. Vlad? Sorry?
She set the letter down on the counter, staring at it as she tried to piece it together. Sorry? There was no way. No way he had changed his mind in a matter of one week. …Was there?
Why a letter? It wasn't like she had blocked his number, although she had heavily considered it. Did he just think the situation called for a more personal touch? If so, this was the best he could do? Not even on official company letterhead? …Or maybe that was asking a bit much.
But the lack of any addresses… how did it get here?
Harriet's shoulders tightened. Was he watching her?
She looked at it again, trying to fill the gaps that seemed to multiply the more she thought about it. She drew in a sharp breath, crumpling the paper and throwing it into her bag alongside the bills, discarding the envelope.
She was entitled to an explanation, at least.
"Ready?"
Vlad exhaled, gesturing with the gun in his right hand for Skulker to set the cage down, even as it rattled violently. Skulker kept one hand on top of the container, ignoring the teeth from the dual-headed lupine creature snapping at the reinforced grid of the cage.
"All yours," he offered, standing up straight to get out of the way as the spirit thrashed.
Vlad was quiet. Skulker cocked his head at his lack of motion, but remained silent.
Vlad drew the gun up at the creature, firing without warning. The projectile hit it in the collar, knocking a strangled whimper out of the beast before choking itself off, collapsing onto the floor of the cage into a twitching heap. A minute of rigid spasms passed before it became still, all four eyes frozen into a glassy stare.
"Nicely done," Skulker commented, lifting his hand off the cage and bending down to inspect the ghost. He looked up when he didn't receive a response.
Vlad remained silent, only moving his attention to the handgun to switch the safety on. He set it down on the lab table, next to a carton sized to accommodate the weapon. Vlad picked up a pencil, marking off something on the chart at his side.
Skulker stood up, saying nothing as he watched Vlad take his notes. Besides the quiet hum and clicks of the machines running in the background, the lab was stiffly silent. Skulker looked down at the cage.
"Is that all?" he asked, glancing to Vlad.
"That's all," Vlad said, his brow tense as he kept his gaze fixed on the paperwork in front of him. "Pack up the rest. We'll take these to Murnau in the morning."
Skulker hesitated, but not before moving just enough that the whir of his suit tipped Vlad off. He saw Vlad turn his head a fraction to the side to watch him from the corner of his eye.
"What?" Vlad grunted.
"…Aren't you taking a risk?" Skulker asked.
"With who? Murnau?" Vlad responded, lifting his pencil to stop writing for a moment. "If he wants to play cowboy and get himself killed, that's on him."
"I'm not arguing that," Skulker answered, raising a hand. "What happens happens. But if there could be a chance that this… sets us back a little… do you want to take that?"
"It would only prove my point. If this is what Murnau wants then I'm more than happy to deliver. Besides," Vlad added, turning back to lift the gun and drop it into the box with a harsh thud, "it's a limited release. We're not putting it on the shelves just yet."
Skulker was quiet. Vlad exhaled sharply.
"Are we done here?" he snapped.
An aggressive chime rang through the lab, prompting Vlad to check his pocket as his phone started to vibrate. He took it out, checking the screen for the caller ID to display.
Chin, Harriet.
"Who is it?" Skulker asked. Vlad scowled.
"Don't worry about it," he growled, sliding the phone back into its pocket without opening it, turning to gather the papers on his work desk. Skulker waited, listening as the phone finally fell silent. Vlad looked back up at him.
"Well?" he barked. "Are you waiting on something?"
Skulker frowned, turning to pick up the cage. He paused. Stepping in front of the part towards Vlad, he angled away from him to face the paralyzed creature on the floor, discreetly popping open the panel covering the embedded radar in his gauntlet. He ran through the directory interface, stopping as he selected Harriet's name from the list.
A green grid opened on a map, quickly panning and zooming in to a patch of land just off of the state border. A red dot slowly started tracking across the screen, moving along a road that prompted Skulker to squint at the display. Along the highway she moved, unmistakably in their direction.
Skulker kept quiet, but left the radar open as he picked up the cage with one hand, moving to the corner of the lab where another box sat open on the ground, about ten smaller ones strewn across the tops of several other containers. Skulker carefully moved them into the open box one by one before folding it closed. He lifted it on top of the cage, taking the opportunity to look at the radar one more time. The dot had come to a stop.
Another chime sounded from Vlad's phone. They both turned to look down at the device. Vlad glanced back up, his irritation growing.
"I gave you a job. I suggest you get to it," he warned Skulker, the note of finality in his voice not lost on the ghost. Skulker nodded, lifting the cage and box with both hands for balance as he angled to face the stairs. He stole one last glance at the screen on his arm. She wasn't moving.
Skulker narrowed his eyes. He lifted into the air, exiting the lab.
Harriet kept her eyes trained on the road as the shadows began to stretch along the sides of the highway. There was enough daylight to still see, but the transition to her was always worse than just driving in the dark to begin with. She hated being on the highway at night.
She huffed and switched her lights on. Looking out to the side, she noticed the flash of her headlights bouncing off the reflective sign coming up on her right; Green Bay, 60 miles.
She took a controlled breath in. Careful to keep her speed consistent, she reached over to her bag and felt around for her phone, pulling it out and pressing through the home screen to her contacts. She attempted to keep her eyes on both the road and the phone as she scrolled down to Vlad's name, pausing for a bit to make sure she was still driving straight – and, truthfully, to check if she was still going through with this.
She hit the green 'call' button and waited, one hand gripping the wheel tightly. The orange glow of the road in front of her was gradually tinting blue as the phone rang. And rang. And continued to ring.
Harriet squinted in annoyance. She was driving out at his insistence and he couldn't be bothered to pick up his phone. Typical.
There was a soft click on the line. She tensed, thinking of what she was going to say, and whether she was better off just swinging around and making her way back home before Vlad's voice came through the receiver.
"Hello, you've reached Vlad Masters. I'm unable to come to the phone right now. Please leave your name and a brief message and we'll be in touch soon."
Beep.
"Hey, uh, it's Harriet," she said, passively noticing the shadows on the ground beginning to melt with the darkening air. "I got your message. I'm about an hour and a half away. For what it's worth, I'm not really sure why you didn't just… call me. But I assume we'll clear that up once I get there."
She sighed.
"Anyway, I'll be seeing you s…" was all she managed to get out before something emerged in the road before her. She shouted, tossing the phone onto the dashboard to grab the wheel with both hands, veering to her right off of the highway and rolling around as the car hit the uneven terrain on the side of the road. She managed to get it to rock to an abrupt stop, realizing that her eyes were pressed shut before she opened them to get a view of her surroundings. The dust and pollen kicked up by her car was slowly beginning to settle, and she took a shaky breath as she swerved her head around to get a look at the road. All she could see was the uninterrupted line of the pavement extending endlessly in both directions.
She strained to turn around in her seat, looking behind to where she estimated the… whatever it was… had appeared. Her ability to see was rapidly diminishing in the dimming light, and if something was there, it would be almost impossible to make out. She would have to get out of the car to make sure.
She was still. Cautiously, she put the car in park and lifted a trembling hand to the door handle, pushing it forward and placing one foot out on the grass. She got up out of the driver's seat, staring into the massive expanse of the highway behind her.
She pushed the door open even more, stepping out towards the road, a few feet past the back of her car as she struggled to distinguish anything in front of her.
"Hello?" she called to no response. She swallowed.
"Hello?" she repeated, louder. The only answer was the quickening pace of the wind moving through the grass. Harriet was still, tensing and closing her hands into fists as she mused on what to do next. The wind rose again, undercut by a shift in pitch.
She froze. The lull after the gust numbed her, even as she strained to hear it again, desperate to believe it was the wind playing tricks on her. Another breeze began to pick up, and whipped her hair around her face as it blew towards her.
The next hiss pierced the air directly in front of her.
Harriet fled backwards, stumbling as she leaped towards the open door of her car. She fell in, slamming the door and the lock and curling back into the seat, keeping her eyes trained forward in case she accidentally caught something looking out the side window. Only after a few seconds did she realize her phone was still on the dashboard. She clamored to grab it, fumbling it against the dashboard a few times before she could pick it up.
"Vlad! Vlad," she sputtered, cradling the phone with both hands, shaking. "I'm… there's something out here. You gotta…"
BANG.
She froze, looking up to the roof where the impact sounded. She struggled to control her breathing, staring at the ceiling in agonizing wait.
Something punched through the roof, dragging five deep lines clean through the metal, screeching towards the back passenger seat.
The phone beeped.
"You have exceeded the limit for your message," a female voice stated flatly through the receiver. "Goodbye."
The car began to shake violently, threatening to launch her out of the driver's seat. Harriet yelped, gripping the steering wheel and trying to get a hold of the gear shift, fighting to put it in drive when the car came to an abrupt pause.
"Going somewhere?" a man's voice growled from the back seat.
Harriet stopped moving. She moved her eyes from the gear shift up to the rearview mirror. The space behind her was completely empty.
It was quiet.
A shuddering breath escaped her, her eyes trained on the mirror. A faint outline began to coalesce into the shape of a head.
Harriet squeezed her eyes shut, dropping her phone and immediately abandoning the thought of looking behind her as she lunged for the gear shift again.
She was stopped by the palm of a cold, blue clawed hand reaching from the back to press down over her mouth.
There was little out here other than the occasional bush or mile marker. Skulker continued to scan, intermittently checking the radar in his arm to see how much further there was to go, since the landscape was clearly not going to provide him much helpful context.
The screen read an approximate distance of 1200 feet away as he hurtled through the air along the highway, checking for any indication of a place to settle down. His visor light was on, casting onto the grass and road below to pick up on anything out of place in the dark.
Within minutes a dot in the distance caught his attention. He sped up, watching the car come into view as he hovered overhead.
Skulker disengaged the flight system, dropping to the ground around a dozen feet from the vehicle. It was parked askew away from the shoulder of the road. The headlights were still on, and the hum of the engine indicated it was still running.
Not good.
As he approached, Skulker noticed the dent in the roof, next to a rugged set of five lines that had torn through the metal along the driver's side.
He walked around the passenger side, checking the car and the surrounding area for any sign of the driver, or anyone at all. He made his way around to the back, noticing the trunk.
He paused. Then he lifted one hand, phasing it through the lock to manipulate it from the inside. It clicked, allowing him to pop the trunk open. The light from his visor filled the back space, revealing nothing but a pair of jumper cables and some clothes wrapped in plastic from the dry cleaner's.
He closed the trunk, satisfied that he had at least ruled out the worst-case scenario.
Maybe.
He walked back around to the driver's side, observing the inside of the car. As the light from his visor passed through the window it scattered and bounced erratically, flashing back towards him and making it difficult to see.
He passed a hand through the car again, lifting the lock inside to open the door, giving himself access to investigate the entire interior cabin. He scanned the inside, moving the driver seat forward to check the back seat thoroughly. Nothing appeared out of place.
He set the seat back into its original position, hearing something rattle as he did so. He looked down to the panel next to the gear transmission, seeing the cell phone sitting upside down at the base of the cupholder. Skulker reached to pick it up, pressing the center key and watching the screen illuminate the home page. Limited by the size of his fingers, he attempted carefully to navigate to the call history.
(2) Vlad Masters. Outgoing.
Skulker frowned, stuffing the phone into the pouch on his left thigh. Curious, he disabled the map on his gauntlet, opening the scanner for any trace of ectoplasm in or around the car. He stuck his arm in, hearing a low, slow beep as he passed it over the front seats. Leaning forward, he tipped his arm into the backseat, listening as the signal rose in pitch and speed.
He pulled back up, causing the tone to return to its original tempo. He looked down at the screen.
Ectosignature detected. Strength: 10%.
His jaw tightened. The scanner beeped again.
Strength: 25%.
He blinked. It wasn't uncommon for the program to have a margin of error and fluctuate, but fifteen percent wasn't an insignificant jump.
Strength: 80%.
Skulker dashed back from the car, drawing his blade from the other arm and scanning the area for the intruder. He whipped around to face the highway, making sure he wasn't being taken by surprise from behind. The radar beeped again. He looked down.
Strength: 100%.
"Surprise."
Skulker turned to face the voice, catching a glimpse of Bullet on the car roof before he spun around, his tail knocking Skulker several dozen feet off to the side, behind the car. He fell on the ground, looking up and watching Bullet crawl down from the roof onto the closed hood of the trunk, grinning wickedly.
Skulker grunted as he propelled forward, driving the blade of his right arm towards Bullet, but only piercing the trunk as Bullet dissipated from his spot. He rematerialized almost instantly a few feet overhead, coming down and slamming his boot onto Skulker's elbow, smashing the joint. Bullet kicked him in the sternum, propelling Skulker backwards and severing the crushed limb from the entire forearm, leaving the blade embedded in the car.
Skulker stumbled again, looking to the car and watching as Bullet pulled on the limb, dragging it out of the crushed metal with a harsh scraping noise. Skulker raised the other arm, calling the stun gun up from his viable gauntlet and taking aim at Bullet. He fired, missing when Bullet melted into the trunk and passed through the ground in a silvery blue mist.
Skulker heard the hiss of the haze rising from behind and turned to fend it off; he wasn't fast enough to stop Bullet from swinging the blade and severing the metal connecting his head to his torso.
Skulker heard the whir of his suit drop and dissipate as its power petered out. His vision went dark while he felt the body fall backward onto the ground with an earth-shaking thud. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear a dark chuckle from the other ghost.
"Nice work, detective," he heard Bullet say, punctuated by the sound of the blade and arm it was attached to hitting the ground. "Now, let your benefactor know that if he's interested in negotiations, he can come see us on our terms. Starting with no backup."
Skulker heard the gust of wind follow as Bullet lifted into the air, leaving him immobile on the side of the road.
He loathed being inside the suit when it was powered off. It only made him painfully aware of the limited space inside. With almost nothing to see, Skulker began kicking the inside of the breastplate, tiring very quickly as his true frame attempted to recover from the energy exerted. With one final kick he popped the breastplate open, shoving it aside and crawling up out of the chest cavity.
He stumbled and rolled down the side of the exoskeleton's abdomen, landing in the grass. He could barely see anything above the blades that dwarfed him in his true form. Panting, he ran towards the direction of the road, rolling when he hit pavement more quickly than he had anticipated.
He picked himself up again and looked both ways down the street. There was no one else to be seen for at least a mile in either direction.
He huffed, trying to think of a way out. He couldn't make it back to Vlad's on his own and there was no method of fixing the suit.
"…if he's interested in negotiations, he can come on our terms."
He had some time. That was all he had.
He heard a low rumble in the distance and turned to face it. A speck of light on the horizon steadily split into two, coming into focus as the truck approached on the horizon. A sixteen-wheeler.
He darted out into the middle of the road, holding still as the truck drew near. The road under his feet began to shake as the wheels approached, almost knocking him off-balance. He crouched down, waiting, hoping his timing outside of the suit was still as good as in it.
The lights blinded him as the roar of the engine passed over his head, suddenly giving way to darkness. Skulker pounced up, grabbing a pipe on the undercarriage and struggling to hold on as he was abruptly carried forward, almost costing him his grip. He flailed, getting his hold back on and swinging his legs up to secure himself on the pipe. He pulled up and scooted sideways until he was sitting upright, inching forward until he could hold on to the vertical portion of the pipe.
The truck carried him past the mile marker.
Vlad set the coffee down. He looked over the forms again, although truthfully he had gotten sick of them hours ago. If he had his way he would have dropped it altogether and gone upstairs to occupy his time by some other means, and as the minutes passed the decision became more appealing and harder to justify not taking.
Sighing, Vlad grabbed the mug, taking a final sip and beginning to clear his materials from the workspace. He shoved the spare parts to the groove on the side of the desk and kept the cup in hand as he turned to leave. A clanging sound from the walls stopped him in his tracks.
His senses went on high alert as whatever it was approached. His hearing sharpened, picking up on the stumbling clang of something coming through the air ducts towards him. Something not human.
Vlad stared at the vent, lowering the cup in his hand as the invader's knocking became louder and green light emitted from the hole in the wall. The grate rustled, shaking violently before an impact against it sounded. Then another. With the third strike, the grate popped off of the vent and fell to the ground. Skulker tumbled out of the passageway, landing on the computer desk below.
"What are you doing here?" Vlad admonished, his senses still heightened to a bothersome degree despite it only being Skulker, who rolled off of the desk and began running towards him. "What happened to you?"
"Open your phone!" Skulker ignored his question, scuttling to the base of the work desk to climb up the leg towards Vlad.
"What are you on about?"
"Check your messages!"
"Just tell me what the problem is!" Vlad shouted at him as he hoisted himself up onto the table, panting.
"They got Harriet."
Vlad froze. "What?"
"Her car was out on the side of the road. She wasn't in it."
"What road?"
"The highway. She was on her way here."
"How did you know that?"
"Just open your messages!" Skulker barked, although it came out as more of a squeak as Vlad fished for the phone from his pocket and navigated to his voicemail. He punched in the passcode and hit the speaker button.
"You have… 2… new voice messages from…" came the tinny voice from the speaker. Vlad seethed as Harriet's number was read aloud, incapable of doing anything to speed up the reading.
"First new message."
"Hey, uh, it's Harriet. I got your message. I'm about an hour and a half away."
Vlad and Skulker exchanged a bewildered glance.
"What message?" Skulker asked.
"I don't know," Vlad said, the hand holding the phone dropping along with his stomach.
"For what it's worth, I'm not really sure why you didn't just… call me. But I assume we'll clear that up once I get there. Anyway, I'll be seeing you s…"
She was cut off by her own scream and a deafening clatter as the phone hit something hard. Vlad tensed as the line went silent for an unnerving stretch of time. Then there was the click of a car door.
"Hello?" he could hear her. Silence.
"Hello?" she repeated, farther away this time. Another unbroken stretch of silence filled the air, keeping the two of them frozen in place.
Next came the slam of the car door, followed by aggressive static as the phone knocked against something.
"Vlad! Vlad, I'm… there's something out here. You gotta…"
The fear in her voice chilled Vlad to the bone even before a violent bang erupted from the speaker. The horrendous sound of metal scraping came after, right before the end of message beep played.
Vlad and Skulker stared at each other.
"Play the other one," Skulker said.
"Second new message."
There was silence. Vlad lifted the receiver to his ear, straining to listen for anything.
"Did you like that?" a man's voice growled without warning, sending a jolt through Vlad.
"Exciting stuff, isn't it?"
"That's Bullet's voice," Skulker interjected.
"We've all got our little part to play in this, Vlad," Bullet continued. "Let's try to make this as smooth as possible. It looks like we might have something you want."
There was a pause.
"Go on, you can talk to him," Bullet could be heard coaxing. All that followed was the sound of a woman's breath shaking.
"Vlad," Harriet's voice came through the receiver. His heart plummeted.
"Tell him where you are," Bullet instructed her.
"The… the warehouse."
Skulker's eyes widened. He watched the knuckles from Vlad's hand turn white.
"Atta girl," Bullet said, the volume increasing as he brought the phone back to himself. "You know where we'll be. Bring that businessman A-game of yours with you. You're going to need it."
The phone beeped again.
"You have no new messages."
If there was anything else Skulker had to add, it was rendered moot when Vlad vanished from the lab before his eyes. He stood alone on the table, thinking of what to do.
He jumped down from the desk, running to the main computer and hopping up onto the seat, then the keyboard. He hit 'enter,' using the palm of his hands to strike each key and type in the password to open the home screen. He input the shortcut for the run command window, entering the application that held Vlad's contacts, along with a emergency back-up of Skulker's own, voluntarily placed or otherwise. A window popped open, listing hundreds, if not thousands, of names. Skulker pushed the mouse up to the search bar, and carefully considered the name before typing.
F-O-L-E-Y…