*drum roll* Thanks to very popular demand, have a part 2. This is crazy long I cannot believe
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The Unsolved Disappearance of Jackson Overland Part 2
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"The weirdest thing just happened to me," Jack said by way of greeting, jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter.
Mrs Bennett, arms deep in dishes, flicked soapy water at him. He took the hint, sliding off to lean against it instead. "There're leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry," she told him instead of the prompt to continue he was looking for; she knew he would elaborate anyway.
"So I just got back, right?" he started, sticking his head in the fridge and re-emerging with a container of mashed potato. She passed him a newly washed fork. "And there was this group of people out by the lake with cameras and everything."
Mrs Bennett turned to give him her full attention. She knew exactly what he was referring to; the investigators had made no illusions about the fact that they were actively searching for him. Or, well, a version of him. She'd been hesitant to let them meet with her or Jamie, but Jamie's excitement and unwillingness to ever deny Jack's existence had swayed her into allowing it. She just hoped that hadn't been a mistake.
Jack swallowed a mouthful of potato, oblivious to her sudden unease. "And they were talking to me?" he waved the fork absently, and then stabbed it back into the potato. "Like, they were actually calling my name – my old name, I mean – but they couldn't see me."
Mrs Bennett absently dried her hands on a tea-towel. Jack was silent for a long moment, his expression shifting into something a little confused, and a little wondrous.
"And then they pulled out this little box thing," he continued, "and when I spoke, it echoed me. And they could hear it."
"They're paranormal investigators," Mrs Bennett said. "They go to haunted places and try to communicate with ghosts. Jamie's a fan of their show."
She'd never really thought about it before, but this whole thing with the ghost hunters had been lingering on her mind. For as long as she'd known him, Jack had always been so lively, but looking at him now, pale and otherworldly, he really was a ghost, wasn't he? Maybe not in the way most people thought about ghosts, but as close to one as she would ever get. He was forever stuck in a fourteen-year-old body, unseen by the vast majority of people, because he had died.
She was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to hug him, and made no effort to resist it. He allowed it, as he always did (she suspected he might be touch-starved), but she could tell that he was confused.
Was it selfish to be grateful for his tragedy? It felt selfish. Her life was better with him in it, but he had suffered to make it happen.
"They asked us about you," she confessed, cheek pressed against the top of his head.
"Yeah?"
"I think they were just interested in Jamie's personal experience. I don't think they know we're related."
"What did you say?" He sounded more curious than wary. She decided to take that as a good sign.
"Not a lot. I think Jamie gave them the impression that the kids have been interacting with your 'ghost', and just decided to call you Jack Frost, rather than you actually being Jack Frost."
Jack let out a little huff of laughter. "Well, close enough, right?"
Mrs Bennett slowly pulled away, but kept her hands firmly rooted on his shoulders. "These guys have only ever seemed to be interested in communicating with spirits, but I can't vouch for what happens off-camera. Promise me you'll be careful."
"I know," Jack smiled, small and knowing. "I promise."
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The investigators organised a follow-up interview. Honestly, after what Jack had told her, Mrs Bennett probably should have seen it coming. She was warier this time than the last, especially after her conversation with Jack, despite the fact that he hadn't been visibly uncomfortable with any of it. The men – both hosts this time, rather than just the one – were digging deeper. Mrs Bennett wasn't sure what would happen if they learned the truth. Or if they didn't. Still, she knew she could do more damage control if she was kept informed of what was happening, and so she and Jamie went out to meet them at the same cafe they'd chosen last time.
Jamie was practically vibrating in his seat with excitement as both hosts greeted them. Mrs Bennett was happy for him, even if she couldn't quite share the enthusiasm. She wished Jack had been there, too – if for no other reason than to get a firsthand heads up about what to expect – but with winter well and truly underway, he was too busy to hang around for a full day. He said he'd return that night, at least. She could fill him in then.
"We went out to the graveyard last night," Ben began. He sounded excited, but Jerry and at least one member of their film crew appeared anxious.
"Graveyard?" Mrs Bennett echoed. Why would they go to the cemetery? She'd thought they would be investigating the lake, all things considered.
"The one in the woods," Jamie clarified.
"There's a graveyard in the woods?"
"Yeah. It's where they used to bury people before they made the big one in town. Jack's grave is there."
Mrs Bennett stared at him, a little horrified. Jack had a grave?
It made sense, in hindsight. He'd left behind living family, and the chances of them believing in a new spirit weren't high. They would have left a marker to remember him, even if they hadn't had anything to bury. Something like queasiness settled in her gut.
"We figured it would be a good place to start," Ben continued. "From the stories we've heard, Jack's ghost isn't tied specifically to the lake, so a location with an emotional connection would work well."
Jerry placed a laptop on the small table, and turned it so she and Jamie could see the screen. "We got some fairly typical activity – cold spots, knocking – but we also got an example of the weather control we've heard a lot about. We actually saw ice appear on a tree trunk."
The two brothers shared a silent conversation.
"And then we tried the spirit box."
Jerry pulled up a video on the laptop and hit play. At first, the camera was focused on the two brothers, who were calling out questions. Off-screen, Mrs Bennett heard Jack's bewildered response, and then the spirit box's repetition of it, just as Jack had described. The camera started panning around. And there he was, wide-eyed and focused on the spirit box. It was an expression Mrs Bennett had only ever seen on him once before, when they'd been standing in her kitchen, and she'd just seen him for the first time.
The video played through for a little over a minute, with each of Jack's answers being doubled as the spirit box picked up on them. The brothers couldn't hear the overlap, or see just how close Jack was to them. And that much became abundantly clear when he answered one final question with the most objectively cryptic and terrifying comment, caused Jerry to drop the spirit box, and flew off while they were recovering from the shock of the physical interaction.
Mrs Bennett resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. Why had he phrased it like that? Was he looking for trouble? She glanced down at Jamie, who looked like he was struggling to contain laughter. Which, fair. Jack's particular brand of mischief had been rubbing off on him since he was ten. But this really wasn't the time or place.
Jerry stopped the video.
"We didn't get anything else after that, even at the lake," Ben said.
Mrs Bennett kept her mouth shut. She'd already resolved not to offer any information without being directly asked for it. Jamie, picking up on her unease, wisely did the same.
"Any idea what it means?" Jerry asked, looking between them.
"Maybe he was just messing with you," Jamie shrugged. But he and Mrs Bennett both knew that wasn't the truth. She'd seen the way he'd looked down at himself, genuinely confused by the question. It wasn't that he was messing with them, he just hadn't really understood what was going on until long after the fact.
"Poltergeists tend to play pranks," Ben conceded, "but the behaviour we experienced didn't read like one." He reached over and pressed a couple of keys on the laptop. Jack's doubled 'I'm still using it' echoed out the speakers. "He sounds confused, like we were asking something obvious."
"But he's been dead for over three-hundred years," Jerry added. "Even if we ignore the impossibility of zombies, or ghosts being able to control the bodies they left behind, his body would have long since decayed."
Unless magic was involved, Mrs Bennett thought wryly. Although he was certainly cold enough to be dead. She tried not to think about it, and took a deliberately long sip of her latte to avoid having to speak.
"When we were doing some research yesterday, I spoke with a genealogist about records of Jackson's death, and she told me that you guys are actually related to him," Jerry said slowly. A quick glance at Ben, then, to Jamie, "And every story we've heard about firsthand experiences with this spirit have had you involved in some way."
"We have a theory," Ben continued. "It doesn't explain what we caught on the spirit box, or why there's only records of activity during winter, but it might help explain some of the activity Burgess has been experiencing."
"Oh?" Mrs Bennett prompted, hiding her growing anxiety behind the rim of her mug. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but better safe than sorry.
"Jackson died protecting his sister. We think that protection has now passed on to her descendents. He's haunting this whole town, and making sure that his family stays safe."
Their theory was only half true – Jack protected all kids, and had been doing so long before he found out that they were related – but there was enough truth in it that she was comfortable with their conclusion.
Jamie nodded. "Jack would never hurt anybody."
Well, Mrs Bennett thought, remembering a few specific incidents, nobody who didn't have it coming.
"You said he talked to you," Ben addressed Jamie. "Can you tell us how?"
Jamie shifted awkwardly. "I just kinda... talked to him. Same way we're talking now."
"You can hear him without any equipment?"
"Yeah?"
Ben's excitement grew. So did Jerry's apprehension. "Do you think you could show us?"
"I guess?" Jamie glanced at Mrs Bennett. From his expression, she could see that he was eager to spend more time with some of his favourite celebrities, but her own caution had subdued him.
She reluctantly nodded her permission, the silent 'be careful' passing unspoken between them.
"We'd have to find him first, though."
"Where do you normally get the most activity during the day?" Ben asked.
"He's kind of hard to track down, and he's not here every day," Jamie confessed. "But he's always here on snow days."
And given that tomorrow was the first school day since he'd been back in town, Mrs Bennett heavily suspected they'd be in for a big one. She said as much aloud, and when Jamie backed her up, they made arrangements to meet up at the park first thing in the morning, should her prediction come true.
At least it would give her time to warn him.
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The film crew were back. Jack watched from his perch in a nearby tree as they started setting up their equipment – most of which he couldn't identify – around the edge of the lake. His initial excitement had worn off a little after his conversation with Mrs B; she'd been visibly worried about it, and he could hardly fault her for it. There was a reason adults didn't believe, and Jack had had more than his fair share of firsthand experience as to why. These people weren't anything like the ones he'd tried to make believe in the early years (unlike them, they were actually trying to communicate with him), but that didn't mean that getting what they wanted would end well for him. He had no idea if an exorcism would even work on him, and after the one he'd escaped back in the late 1700s, he wasn't eager to find out.
Still, just because he agreed that staying as far away as possible was the wisest thing to do didn't mean he could just switch off his curiosity. And it was so hard not to eavesdrop when they weren't just talking about him, but also to him. Sort of.
He'd been on his way back to the Bennett's place for the night, but it wouldn't hurt to take a minute, right? Just to see what they were up to?
Apparently satisfied with their set-up, the two hosts of the show took up position in front of the main camera. Jack leaned forward slightly, as if an extra inch closer would do anything to improve his hearing.
"The Bennetts were pretty confident about the snow day tomorrow," the tall one started. "But we decided to come back to the lake tonight anyway, just in case. With any luck, we'll be able to see some activity like we got at the graveyard last night."
Why the fascination? They were paranormal investigators, according to Mrs Bennett, but what were they actually investigating? They already knew he existed after last night. What more were they looking for?
"Ideally, we'll be able to communicate again. We brought the spirit box along, but we're also going to try using a PX Device, which has a built-in dictionary that spirits can select words from."
"Still trying to talk to me, huh?" Jack mused. Why? What did they want from him?
"So, Jackson," he called, louder than he'd been before, "if you're here, why don't you come on out and say hi?"
Jack suspected the box thing the shorter one was holding was the 'PX Device'. How they expected him to do anything with it was beyond him.
One of the crew members held up some kind of camera, sweeping it slowly across the lake. "Nothing so far," they reported. They hadn't aimed it at the trees yet.
Curiosity and wariness warred within him. After three-hundred years of only the wind for company, it was hard to shake the wonder that came with anyone paying attention to him, let alone people who didn't even believe he existed. For once here were people who were actively seeking him out, and not the other way around. Maybe they had an ulterior motive (like the Guardians had), but that didn't change the fact that they were acknowledging him. But at the same time, he'd long ago learned his lesson when it came to adults. Mrs B was an exception to that rule only because of her specific circumstances.
"We just want to talk!" the man from before continued, equally loudly. "We still have some questions for you!"
He'd promised to be careful. Did that mean he couldn't reach out at all? As long as he didn't give away anything incriminating, or let them know he was more than he'd been when he'd been alive, it would be fine, right?
Curiosity won out. Jack shifted, ready to jump down, but froze when something prickled the back of his neck.
"Making a mess again, Jack?"
Jack flinched at the sudden voice right beside him. He recovered his balance as quickly as he'd lost it, but not quickly enough that it hadn't been noticed. Pitch smirked down at him from where he stood leaning against the tree trunk to his right.
"What are you doing here?" Jack asked, taking a deep breath to calm himself.
"I came to see for myself."
"See?"
"The ghost hunters," Pitch said with a gesture, as if it were obvious. In hindsight, maybe it should have been. "Terrified of the very thing they spend their lives searching for. An adult's fear is nowhere near as potent as a child's, but last night was quite the performance, Jack."
What? He remembered startling them a little, but he wouldn't have called it proper fear. Besides, it had only been early evening at best.
"What are you talking about?" Jack narrowed his eyes.
Pitch shrugged. "I don't know the details, I just know the fear. They're scared of you, and yet here they are again, still seeking you out."
"I wasn't trying to scare them," Jack refuted, as if that changed anything.
"Any interaction with them will scare them," Pitch countered. "Or have you already forgotten?"
"Forgotten?"
"1789."
Jack tensed. "How do you know about that?" he asked lowly.
Pitch rolled his eyes. "Please. You put on a show big enough to not only catch an adult's attention but reduce them to such hysterics a priest to got involved. Of course I know."
That seemed like a massive breach of privacy, but there wasn't really much he could do about it. Still, then and now were nothing alike. "This is different," Jack insisted.
"Is it?" Pitch raised a brow.
"Yes. They're looking for me."
"No, they're looking for Jackson Overland."
"Who is me."
"Who is dead."
They stared each other down, Jack's glare met with apathy. Pitch broke eye contact first, looking down to where the humans were still trying to locate him with their equipment.
"What do you want, Pitch?" Jack asked. He'd claimed to want to see for himself, but Jack didn't really think that was it. If it was the fear he was after, then he could have just stayed in his hole; it wouldn't have made a difference to him. Instead, he was here, and had actually stopped Jack from going down to talk to them, intentionally or not.
"An encore performance," Pitch said after a moment. "They won't leave until they find what they're looking for. Why don't you go down and give it to them?"
He highly doubted Pitch meant a conversation.
"You just made a point of reminding me about what scared adults are capable of, and now you want me to go and scare some adults?" he frowned. "If you're trying to get me exorcised, you're not being very subtle."
"On the contrary," Pitch grinned, all sharp teeth, "I think we should scare them off."
"You just want an excuse to scare them."
"It'll be fun."
"For you."
"For us," Pitch corrected, with none of the hesitation he'd shown when Jack had caught him out the first time he'd proposed they join forces. Whether that made the offer any more sincere, Jack didn't know, but either way it didn't sway him towards accepting. "Think of it this way," Pitch continued when all Jack did was stare flatly, "we'd be encouraging them not to go around bothering spirits. Not everyone is as benevolent as a Guardian."
Oh, he was definitely fishing for excuses now. He'd stooped so low that he was twisting Jack's own attempts to reform him to get his way. Jack shook his head, unsure whether to be amused or exasperated.
"You're unbelievable," he sighed.
Pitch's responding smile was anything but friendly. "We'll see." And then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows.
Jack jumped to his feet, scanning the surrounding area for any sign of him. "Pitch?" he called, not believing for a second that he had given up and gone home – not after a cryptic line like that.
Below, one of the men stepped out onto the ice. Jack had added a few extra inches to its thickness earlier, so he only spared him a brief glance before resuming his search for Pitch.
"Pitch?!" he tried again. "Pitch, I swear to the Man in the Moon-"
A loud crack echoed like a gunshot. Jack's attention darted instinctively to the ice, his whole body tensing, and for a moment, it wasn't the ghost hunter standing there. He shook his head to clear it, and watched in horror as the fractured ice continued to split as a large, shadow-claw raked across its surface. It was easy to see from above. From the man's angle, however, it was probably just a huge dark stain.
Shouts from the bank snapped him out of his stupor, and in the space between one breath and the next, Jack slammed down onto the ice. The cracks sealed at his touch, the frost spreading across the surface nothing like the curling ferns it usually formed. He froze another inch under the surface for good measure, not that it would make a difference if Pitch was serious.
Pitch's shadow had disappeared the second Jack had moved, and he immediately started a frantic sweep of the area for any sign of a follow-up attack. Continuous bursts of static told him that the man was holding the spirit box again. Good; he'd be heard.
"Get off the ice," he ordered, harsher than he'd intended. If it came down to it, Jack knew he could freeze it faster than Pitch could break it, but the stakes were too high for him to press his luck.
A humanoid shadow loomed behind the people still frantically calling from the shore. Bingo.
Jack shot a blast of ice above their heads. The humans, despite not being in any danger, ducked out of the way. The ice speared straight through Pitch's shadow, impaling itself into the trunk of the tree it had been reflected on.
Pitch's laughter bounced around the clearing, before convalescing into a single being again somewhere behind Jack. The sound of it echoed out of the spirit box, and the man holding it finally found the sense to run back to solid ground.
"Bravo, Jack," Pitch applauded with a Cheshire grin.
"What is wrong with you?!" Jack snapped, spinning to face him. He held his staff at the ready, but made no further move to attack.
Pitch rolled his eyes, as if Jack was the one who was being unreasonable. "Oh, please. He wasn't going to drown."
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah? What were you expecting to happen when he fell in?"
"He could swim."
"Being able to swim didn't save me."
Pitch crossed his arms, face closed off. His gaze drifted from Jack over his shoulder to the humans on the bank, who were staring in their general direction. Two of them had equipment pointed their way.
"I gave them what they wanted," Pitch said offhandedly.
"Leave them alone," Jack warned.
Pitch scoffed. "Where's the fun in that?"
"This is not fun, Pitch." He would know. Playing a prank was one thing, but this was just malicious.
"Agree to disagree," Pitch shrugged, turning away. He disappeared back into the shadows, and this time didn't come back.
Jack deflated with a sigh, and spun to check on the humans. They all looked unharmed, if not thoroughly freaked out.
"Jackson?" the one who had been on the ice called. "Is that you?"
His earlier curiosity had dwindled in the face of the exhaustion he suddenly felt. Without a word, he let the wind sweep him up and carry him deeper into the woods. He'd had enough of people for one night.
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The night's discovery had been monumental compared to the recordings they'd gotten from the spirit box previously. Sure, they'd only gotten two brief sound clips this time, but what they'd caught on the Kinect and the infrared camera more than made up for it.
Sitting around the table in their motel room, Ben, Jerry, and their crew started with, arguably, the least exciting part (which was a weird thing to call it, given how exciting spirit box recordings usually were). The first was unmistakably the same voice they'd heard previously – Jackson Overland – but the tone was no longer light and confused. No, this time it was cold.
"Get off the ice."
There was nothing even remotely friendly about the order. And while Ben had hesitated to obey due to the potential of even greater discoveries, it had seriously kicked off his fight or flight response.
The second recording was just laughter. Decidedly hostile laughter. And by unanimous agreement, it hadn't come from Jackson. There was more in Burgess than just one kid's ghost; that much had become very clear.
A review of the infrared footage confirmed what Ben had felt: a freezing cold shift in the temperature directly in front of him, which had just as quickly spread across the ice and sealed the cracks like they'd never been there. The camera had picked it up as a humanoid shape, slightly shorter than Ben, but unlike other ghosts they'd caught with it, this one was cold enough to show up blue, rather than as a blank space between coloured environment. Then ice had blasted past Ben – they had seen it with their own eyes, but on the camera feed it only showed up as a blur of blue – and had left shards poking out of a tree trunk just above the crew's heads. The standard footage had gotten a close-up of the damage. It was like someone had shot glass from a canon.
And then there was the second figure. Warmer in colour than the first was, and much taller. A comparison of the Kinect footage confirmed it, showing two wire-frames besides Ben's own standing out on the lake. One of them – Jackson, Ben suspected – had literally dropped from the sky.
Ben didn't need to ask to know that Jerry was sufficiently freaked out. Ben couldn't blame him; he was feeling much the same way. Jackson's behaviour was very different to how it had been the first time, but when asked, none of the crew had changed their minds about their theory. More than just general protection, they posited, maybe Jackson was protecting them from whatever that second spirit had been. A demon, perhaps? There wasn't enough information to go on. Certainly no records of any Satanic rituals in the area that might have drawn one here.
"What if it was from even earlier than Jackson?" Jerry mused.
One of the camera crew nodded in agreement. "It cracked that ice like an egg, man. What if it did the same thing to Jackson that it tried to do to you?"
It was an unsettling thought, that Jackson's death might have been more than just a horrible accident. But none of this answered the question that was bugging Ben the most – what had he meant when he'd said he was still using his body?
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Mrs Bennett watched from the sidelines as the snowball fight very rapidly evolved into a snowball war. As predicted, Monday had brought with it enough snow to close the school, and as much as she wanted Jamie and Sophie to get a proper education, the opportunity for them to spend time with Jack and just be kids was enough that she never said anything about it. That, and snow days often meant Jack actually stuck around, and she always looked forward to seeing him.
And given that Jack hadn't shown up last night, that was especially true today.
He was easy enough to spot amidst the war, as fast and agile as he was. He never seemed to get hit himself, but every snowball he threw hit its mark. She couldn't quite tell what team he was supposed to be on, though. Not that it mattered; by the end it would become a free-for-all, as it always did. Mrs Bennett didn't normally intrude on the fun, but today she had a reason to be here.
She spotted the investigators easily enough. They'd already seen her, too, from the furtive glances they kept sending her, but for whatever reason had elected not to get any closer. Maybe they were worried about accidentally filming the kids. Or just spooking them in general. For all that she was a little paranoid, she couldn't deny they were considerate.
Deciding to spare them the trouble, she headed over to where they were loitering.
"Good morning," she greeted with a small wave.
"Morning," they returned, just as cheery as always, but there was something about their expressions that wasn't there before. Something she couldn't quite name.
Jerry nodded towards the ongoing fight behind her. "They always get this crazy?"
Mrs Bennett smiled, shoving her hands into her pockets. "This is pretty tame, actually. I've seen them craft entire forts." At the time she hadn't quite been able to figure out how they'd managed it, but now that she knew who the catalyst for all the snow day drama was, it made a lot of sense. She glanced back at the game. "Would you like me to call Jamie over?"
"Nah, let him have some fun for a while longer," Ben said flippantly. "There was something we wanted to ask you about, anyway."
"Oh?" Mrs Bennett turned to him, trying to hide the nervousness she suddenly felt.
"Do you know if there are any other spirits in Burgess? Besides Jack, I mean."
"Other spirits?" She was sure there must be; she'd met Mother Nature herself, so there had to be other nature spirits around. And if not them, then the Tooth Fairy came through pretty often, according to her children. And the Sandman would have to make his rounds, too. She highly doubted any of this was what they were looking for, though.
"Yeah," Ben clarified. "Any stories about hostile ghosts or demons or anything going around town?"
Demons? Now that was a stretch. If demons were even real, she had yet to hear about it. And with Jamie usually the centre of every fantastical story Burgess was exposed to, she was sure she would have by now. "I don't think so," she said. "Nothing hostile." She thought about the story they'd told her about the Bogeyman, and that one time with those monsters that had tracked Jack all the way back to Burgess. "Not recently, anyway."
"But you have heard things before?"
"There's a lot more to the world than we know," she shrugged. "Jack is very protective."
The two brothers shared a look that Mrs Bennett decidedly didn't like. They knew something.
"What is it?" she pressed.
"Something attacked us at the lake last night," Ben said after a moment. "We think Jackson protected us from it."
That would be just like him. She wasn't sure whether to be proud of him, or frustrated that he was getting close enough to be detected. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"I went out onto the lake, and the ice cracked. We're all fine, but there was definitely something else there."
"Hi!" Jamie ran up to meet them, puffing a little from all the running around he'd been doing. Over his shoulder, Mrs Bennett caught sight of Jack and Sophie, who had separated themselves from the fight – close enough to hear them, but still separate from the conversation. Jack's expression was assessing, and when he turned his attention to the surrounding trees, Mrs Bennett couldn't help but think he looked agitated.
"Hey, kid," the brothers grinned at Jamie, who would probably be talking about this whole thing for the next few months. She wasn't sure whether she wanted the episode to air on TV or not, but she knew he would be ecstatic if it did.
"What are our chances of an interview with Jack, do you think?" Ben asked enthusiastically.
Jamie looked back at Jack, who was still distracted. Sophie shrugged. She whispered something to Jack, and he snapped back to attention, gaze meeting Jamie's first, and then Mrs Bennett's.
Up to you, she mouthed, twisting so the brothers, interested in what had captured Jamie's attention, wouldn't see.
Jack shifted on his feet indecisively. He cast one last furtive glance at the trees, and started making his way over. Sophie followed him.
"I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Jack said as he reached them. "Pitch went after them last night." When Jamie and Sophie frowned, he added, "He said they're scared of me."
Pitch. That name was familiar. The Bogeyman? Why would he go after them? Unless he knew something the rest of them didn't. Or maybe he was just malicious. Mrs Bennett didn't know enough about him to even guess. But, then, from what she had heard he was a bit of an ass.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Jamie told him earnestly, and Mrs Bennett watched as the investigators immediately straightened to attention, one of them gesturing needlessly for the camera crew, who were already filming.
"He's here?" Jerry asked. "Jack, can you give us a sign that you're here?"
Jamie winced apologetically. But Jack didn't seem annoyed, only wary. He drew a line in the snow to indicate his presence. Every camera the crew had instantly focused on it.
"Is he willing to talk to us, Jamie?" Ben tried, eyes darting from the line in the snow, to the general area where Jack stood, to Jamie.
Jamie turned to him. "He's wary cause you were attacked."
This only increased the crew's excitement.
"Can he tell us what attacked us?"
Jack pulled a face. "Better not say any names. Just tell them he feeds on fear."
Jamie told them.
"Why are you scared of Jack?" Sophie chimed in.
The Burlingtons blinked at her, as if only just registering she was there.
"This is Sophie," Mrs Bennett introduced, running a hand through Sophie's loose hair.
"We're not scared of Jack, Sophie," Jerry lied.
The disbelief that settled onto Sophie and Jack's faces were comically synchronised.
"You definitely are," Jack countered.
"You have to be," Sophie agreed. "Or he wouldn't have come after you. He can't feed on your fear if you're not scared."
"And who is 'he'?" Ben asked, ignoring the accusation.
Mrs Bennett couldn't really blame him; being scared of the very people you were trying so hard to communicate with didn't seem like the sort of thing they'd want to own up to. Then again, maybe that made the show more interesting? She had no idea. She much preferred those cheesy soap operas that Sophie scrunched her nose at.
Sophie, Jamie, and Mrs Bennett all looked to Jack, who bit his lip.
"This is a bad idea," he said.
"He doesn't want us to tell you," Jamie translated.
Ben and Jerry shared a silent conversation. "Why?"
"It's a bad idea."
"Okay," Ben soothed. "We're not here to upset him. Jack, can you tell us what you meant when you said you were still using your body?"
But Jack only grew more agitated by the change in the line of questioning. His attention was now more on their surroundings than the film crew. He took a large step backwards.
"Jack?" Jamie asked, tone reflecting Mrs Bennett's own concern.
"I don't want to talk about this," he said, still not looking at them. "This is a bad idea."
"Jamie?" Jerry called softly. "Everything okay?"
Jamie looked back at him helplessly. "I don't know. Something's wrong."
Sophie followed Jack's flitting gaze, and then settled her own on his face. "What's wrong?"
"Jack," Mrs Bennett said, and Jack immediately turned to her. He was visibly spooked.
"I just have... a really bad feeling," he finally said, but it sounded weak, like it wasn't the full truth.
"Like what?"
The brothers' attention snapped to her. "Can you hear him as well?"
Mrs Bennett ignored them. "Like what, Jack?"
The whinny of a horse somewhere nearby set the hair on the back of her neck on edge. She spotted it at the same time the kids did – a sleek black creature with glowing eyes. It was the sort of thing she'd expect to see in a nightmare, dancing around in the shadows, avoiding the light.
"Like that," Jack said.
The paranormal investigators couldn't see it, if the way they were impatiently waiting for some kind of explanation was any indicator. But Mrs Bennett had bigger concerns right then than their investigation.
"Pitch is here. I don't think he'll try anything in broad daylight with so many people around, and I don't think he wants to kill anyone, but last night wasn't just some harmless joke." Jack's expression was grim. "I need to go. Stay together. Jamie, you know what to do if the Nightmares get too close."
At Jamie's resolute nod, Jack took off, out of sight in mere seconds.
.
.
A little lost for what else to do, and heeding Jack's warning to stay together, Mrs Bennett insisted the entire crew come back with her and two of her kids to their house. She had been going to significant lengths to keep them away from it, just in case, but if worse came to worst, she'd rather fight the Bogeyman on her own turf than somewhere public where they might all get arrested for insanity.
The Burlingtons had been asking questions the entire way. Mrs Bennett had offered only a very brief explanation that they needed to leave the park, and had ignored everything else since. In terms of keeping the panic to a minimum it wasn't very helpful, but she still didn't know how much she was allowed to say. Best to leave it to Jamie and Sophie. They knew better what they were talking about than she did, anyway.
It was a little cramped in the living room with so many people, but they made do. Mrs Bennett handed out teas and coffees, and sat down on the arm of the armchair Jamie and Sophie had squeezed themselves into. The porcelain of her mug clinked as she tapped at it with her nails.
"Can you tell us what's going on, please?" Ben's tone heavily implied that it wasn't a question, but that he was too polite to phrase it as the demand it was.
Well, if they were trying not to attract Pitch's attention, keeping them in the dark probably wasn't going to help.
"The thing that attacked you last night was at the park," she said, although she wasn't sure how true that was. She'd never seen a horse like that before, but Jack had called them 'Nightmares'. A rather fitting name for the Bogeyman's minions, if not a terrible pun. "Call it a tactical retreat."
"Don't worry," Jamie said with all the confidence in the world. "Jack will take care of it. And if the Nightmares come, Sophie and I will protect you."
The Burlingtons blinked at the two children owlishly. Mrs Bennett couldn't blame them for their dubiousness; they were just regular kids. She herself only knew how capable they were because Jamie had regaled her with the story so many times she basically had it memorised.
"Look," she said, leaning forward and resting her mug on her knee, "this isn't anything like the sort of things you guys usually deal with. You might be the experts when it comes to ghosts, but this? It's a whole different world. And in Burgess, Jamie is the expert."
As much as she hated to admit it, and as much as she wished she could shelter him, this was just their reality. And she would never wish for things to go back to the way they'd been before, no matter how crazy it all was.
"You can hear him too, can't you?" Ben asked. "All of you can."
They didn't deny it. They would never deny it.
The wind gusted, rattling the windows in their frames. The sky had gotten darker. It looked like it might snow again. She hoped Jack was okay.
A loud crash made them jump.
"What was that?" Jamie sat up straighter. He didn't sound scared.
"I think it came from underneath us," Jerry said. "Do you have a basement?"
Mrs Bennett stood, setting her mug down on the coffee table. They did have a basement. "Wait here. I'll be back in a minute."
"Do you want one of us to come with you?" Jamie called after her.
Mrs Bennett snagged Sophie's hockey stick from where it was leaning against the wall by the front door. She tested its weight. "I can handle it."
She'd always had an irrational fear of the basement, ever since she was a kid. Even so, she didn't hesitate as she started down the stairs, flicking the light on as she passed it. For some reason it was basement-law that the globes always had to be dull and yellowed. She made a note to switch it out with a better one once this whole thing was over.
The source of the noise was readily apparent. A box of Christmas decorations had fallen over. How it had fallen was not clear. It had been pretty stably packed on top of another box, pushed up into a corner so that it was against two walls. The only way it could have fallen was if someone had knocked it.
Mrs Bennett tightened her grip on the hockey stick. "Alright, I know you're in here," she growled, voice more confident than she was feeling. "Save us both the drama and show yourself."
"An adult believer," a smooth, British voice mused. "I must confess I hadn't quite believed it until I saw for myself."
She didn't recognise the voice, and the way it came from every direction at once made it impossible to pinpoint a source. "I said show yourself."
"Or what?"
"Or when I catch you, I'll shove this hockey stick down your throat."
A soft laugh came from somewhere behind her. She spun, in time to see a tall, greyscale man step out of a shadow. The only colour on him were his eyes – as gold as the eyes of the horse she'd seen earlier.
"You'd better have a damn good excuse for all of this," she pointed the hockey stick right between his eyes, refusing to be intimidated.
"For the box?" he looked towards the mess he'd made. "I had to get your attention somehow. And I'd rather not have an audience for this."
Well that wasn't at all threatening. Were there spirit cops she could call? That had to be a thing, right?
"I wasn't talking about the box," she glared. "You've got a lot to answer for, but right now I'm more interested in why you attacked those men."
The spirit – Pitch Black, she was almost certain of it – swatted the hockey stick out of his face. She let it fall, but didn't loosen her grip.
"Why do you think?" he asked, wholly unimpressed.
"Because you're a sadistic bastard?"
"Hmm," he tilted his head in thought. "Partly." A grin stretched across his face. His teeth were unnaturally sharp, like a shark's. "But, then, they are masochists. I only gave them what they wanted."
Why would he do that, though? It went against everything she knew about him. "I thought the Bogeyman was only interested in scaring kids."
"Oh, it's not their fear I want," he said, voice silky smooth. The shadows around him loomed up like ink, until she could barely see him through them.
"Then what do you want?"
"I want them gone." All she could see of him now were his eyes, and a sadistic grin. "You're in the perfect position to make them leave." His grin grew impossibly wider as his silhouette stretched up towards the ceiling. "Or I could do it myself."
"Why?" Mrs Bennett pressed. "What does it even have to do with you? It's Jack they're interested in."
"What do you think happens when an adult starts to believe?" he asked. "What happened when you did?"
She'd freaked out. She still remembered it clearly. She'd thought she was having a breakdown. Pitch read her answer in her expression. He disappeared from view, and reappeared behind her as a silhouette against the wall, all long limbs and sharp edges.
"And what do you think happens when people better versed in spirits get involved?" he continued. "What do you think happens, when the people who hunt ghosts get scared?"
They called in back-up. She'd seen enough of the show to know that much. They'd even filmed an exorcism once, when a particularly nasty ghost had gotten a little too out of control.
"Why don't you ask Jack–" the light bulb shattered, plunging the basement into darkness "-about 1789?"
.
.
No matter how hard he searched, there was no sign of Pitch. The Nightmares he'd spotted gathering between the trees that had first tipped him off had been easily taken care of, but that was all he'd been able to find since. Wherever Pitch was, he didn't want to be found.
At the one-hour point, he decided to call it quits. If he hadn't found Pitch by now, he probably wasn't going to. With a quiet word to the wind, he flew across town to the Bennett's place, where he'd earlier spotted the investigators' van parked.
It wasn't there now, though, Jack realised, landing lightly on the doorstep. Had they gone out again?
The front door opened without his needing to knock, revealing a rather flustered looking Jamie and Sophie on the other side. Jack was practically dragged inside, while the two of them talked over each other a mile a minute.
"Whoa, hold on, slow down," he cried. "One at a time, geez."
"Sorry," they said.
"Did you find Pitch?" Jamie went first.
Jack shook his head. "No. It might have just been the Nightmares. I don't know." He peered into the living room, but there was no sign of anyone else. "Where is everybody? I told you guys to stay together."
Sophie was the picture of confusion. "We heard a noise, and mom went to investigate. When she came back, she asked them not to air the stuff they'd been filming, and said they should leave."
Jack frowned. That was... weird. "So they're gone?"
"I guess?" Jamie shrugged. "She wouldn't explain what happened, but she was freaked out enough that they decided to do what she said."
Very, very weird. "Where is she now?"
The kids pointed to the kitchen.
Jack nodded, and made his way through the living room, only passively noting that the kids were following him.
Mrs Bennett was leaning against the island counter, staring at it like it held the secrets to the universe but they were written in a language she only half knew. She looked up as he entered, and some of the tension on her face eased. But not all of it.
"You okay?" he asked her.
"Fine," she said, sounding anything but. "Are you?"
"Yeah." It was nothing he couldn't handle, especially since Pitch was still nowhere near close to the power he'd been at when Jack had first gotten involved with the Guardians. "I didn't find him."
"I did."
Jack blinked. What?
"Or, he found me, I guess," she said. She looked confused, more than anything. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened in 1789?"
Jack forced himself not to tense up. "A lot of things," he said with false ease. "George Washington became president?"
Mrs B gave him a flat look. She very clearly knew that he knew what she was asking for, and that he was deliberately being evasive.
"The Tennis Court Oath?" he continued anyway.
"Jack." Mrs Bennett sighed. "Pitch said to ask you."
"Yeah, well, Pitch says a lot of things," he replied defensively.
She walked around the counter so they were standing face to face. "Something bad happened, didn't it?"
That was putting it lightly. But why would Pitch even bother mentioning it?
As if reading his thoughts, Mrs B continued, "He wanted me to make them leave. Very heavily implied that if I didn't something bad was going to happen." She pressed her lips together thinly. "He asked what happens when ghost hunters get scared."
"They call an exorcist," Jamie's quiet voice said from the doorway. Jack twisted so quickly his neck cracked. "But only if the spirit is really dangerous."
Mrs B wasn't surprised. She'd expected this, he realised. When her eyes bored into Jack's, the question in them was clear. He looked away first with a sharp nod. The next thing he knew, she'd pulled him in for a tight hug.
"Someone tried to exorcise you?!" she hissed.
Jack sighed. Pitch really talked too much. But the fact that he'd gone and actually sought out Mrs Bennett about it was... interesting. What did he gain from it? Besides losing the opportunity to chase the hunters out of town himself?
Unless that was the point. If Pitch really was so concerned about attracting an exorcist to Burgess (and he probably should be; he wasn't exactly the perfect example of benevolence), then scaring them off himself wasn't really the best preventative. Safer to have someone relatively non-threatening like Mrs Bennett do the hard work for him.
"It was a long time ago," he reassured Mrs B, but didn't resist the embrace. "And I don't even know if I can be exorcised. It's not like I'm an actual ghost or anything."
"I'd rather not find out, thank you very much."
That was a sentiment he could easily agree to.
.
.
Ben watched the landscape pass them by through the window of the van as Jerry drove them south to their next hotspot. He hadn't been ready to leave Burgess yet, not with so many unanswered questions, and especially not after the events that had led up to Mrs Bennett asking for them to basically forget everything that had happened. She'd been more or less the same as she'd been the entire weekend when she'd headed downstairs, but when she'd returned she'd seemed... dazed.
Still, they had to respect her wishes. It was her and her son who were their main witnesses, and the ghost they were investigating was her relative. As much as he didn't like it, she was well within her rights to ask them to leave well enough alone.
They'd come back to Burgess one day, he vowed. Maybe once things calmed down again, she'd change her mind about it. There was something going on in that town; something they'd never encountered before.
But for now, whether he liked it or not, Jackson Overland's case would remain unsolved.
Guest Review Responses
JFunderburker: Thank you!
Milly34k: Hope it meets expectations! I'm ready to cry
Tuglover98: Hey man! Haven't heard from you in a while; glad to hear you're still kicking! (I don't mind if you choose not to review - I'm just glad you're still enjoying my nonsense ^^') Lleu loves you too
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Nothosaurus: I really did not see it going in this direction at all but I hope you like it anyway!