Author's Note: Again, many thank-yous for the reviews! This next chapter is all from Paul's P.O.V., not because Jade asked for it, but because it just happened to work out that way. (You will be seeing quite a lot of him overall, though, as he's my favorite character too.)

Day Two: Static Interference

Gottreich was not yet privy to the presence of the new head-case on the ninth floor. Paul wasn't planning on telling him. Not if he could help it. If Gottreich found out about Becca, he'd bring her down to the Pain Room and make her one of his special patients, and then Paul wouldn't be able to have any fun with her. So he was keeping Becca's admission to himself for now.

Besides, there were more pressing things to worry about. Such as whatever had flooded the hallway and hijacked the phone lines on Becca's ward. It had to be a ghost – Paul knew a freelance spook when he smelled one. It wasn't so much the idea of a newcomer in the Old Kingdom that bothered him. It was the fact that they'd pulled a stunt like that without Paul or Gottreich's say-so. Nothing happened in their Kingdom without their at least knowing about it first, and this was an exception.

Gottreich was in the Pain Room, writing down the results of his latest experiment. Paul was in a nearby junk room, thinking. There was a metal slab in the center of the room, and a non-functioning computer monitor on the far wall. Gottreich had been trying various experiments to make the thing boot up for months now, but so far nothing had worked.

Paul slouched against the slab, brooding and pondering the events of the past two days. He'd followed Becca on her nightmare flashback, and while it still left a good deal of the puzzle unsolved, it did fill in a few blanks. Such as what that black-haired wraith was doing in Becca's memory, and why her friend's death had driven the sanity right out of her. He wondered if the wayward spook was her doing, if it had somehow followed her all the way from Seattle.

Suddenly a low surge of energy went through the room, and the computer monitor clicked on. The screen flickered and went out in seconds, but then it did it again. A single image appeared on the screen – a jagged, faraway circle of white – and then it went out again. Paul stood up. The screen flickered a few more times, trying to come on, but no more pictures appeared.

Paul hurried back to the Pain Room and found Gottreich bent over his notebook in the corner. "Dr. Gottreich!" he said.

"Mm?" said Gottreich, not looking up.

"We've got company," said Paul. "You better come look at this."

"Boy, I have told you time and again not to disturb me while I'm documenting my research."

"Yes sir, but I think this is—"

"That's enough, young man." Gottreich's voice now had an irritated edge to it. "I will not tolerate any interruptions until I have finished – is that clear?"

"But Dr. Gottreich—"

"Paul, not now!"

Paul took a deep breath. Sometimes Gottreich forgot that they were dead, and that he didn't really need to document his "research". Paul thought it was a tragic waste of eternity, poring over theories and hypotheses and numbers, but Gottreich was impossible to reason with when he got like this. He tried one more time.

"Dr. Gottreich," he said, "There is an intruder in our Kingdom. It's coming from the ninth floor, and I think it's—"

"Then by all means, deal with it yourself," said Gottreich. "You are a very intelligent, resourceful young man – I'm sure you'll think of something."

"But—"

"That'll be the end of it. Off you go."

Paul glared at the back of Gottreich's head, then turned and left the Pain Room. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "I'll shuffle her loose myself, you self-absorbed old bastard." He trudged down the ghostly hallway of the Old Kingdom, all the way to the glass double-doors at the end, and vanished.

He reappeared near the elevator on the ninth floor, and immediately he knew something was happening. There was a malignant presence in the air here, permeating everything from the walls, to the electrical wiring, to the addled minds of the patients.

First, he went to Becca's room. There was a white towel draped over the T.V. attached to the ceiling, but a blurry electric light still shone through it, changing and moving on the screen behind. The bed was empty. Becca was standing against the wall with her hands tangled up in her long hair, staring at the shrouded T.V. Her mouth was moving rapidly, but no sound came out. Paul moved closer, right in front of Becca, and stared at her lips. It was three words, repeating over and over: Nine, Four, Two.

Paul left Becca and headed down the hallway to room 942. The door was open, and there was water on the floor. There were no patients, but the dark aura that hung over the entire ward grew more concentrated as Paul approached.

The room was completely empty. No beds, no dresser, nothing. Except for a single wooden chair, facing away from the door. And in the chair, a girl in a long white hospital gown, with long black hair.

Paul paused in the doorway and contemplated the intrusive wraith. It was her, all right. The one who was causing all the damage. And of course, she was only just starting. He tilted his head, listening. The girl's mind was wide open in some places, but maddeningly vague in others. He found a name, a cause of death, and the same garbled mess of images that he'd seen in Becca's mind before. One thing he found extremely useful: she'd only been dead for twenty years. Paul had been haunting Kingdom Hospital for almost seventy. That made the intruder a rookie, at least by comparison, which meant she was less of a threat.

Paul straightened himself and took one step into the room. "So, you're it, huh?" he said. "You're the hitchhiker that came in with that head-case down the hall?"

She didn't answer.

Paul shrugged. "Fine, be that way," he said. He circled the chair, giving her a wide berth, and knelt down in front of her. Her hair was combed down over her face, hiding her features. "Listen up, rookie," Paul went on. "I don't know who you think you are, or how you did things back wherever the Hell it is you're from, but this is my Kingdom. You didn't live here, and you didn't die here, so you don't get to make the rules. I do. Me and the Doctor. Everyone inside these walls belongs to us. Everyone. If that doesn't work for you, then you better get out."

A charge of static electricity rippled through the room, and the image of the girl and the chair sparked out for a moment. The next thing Paul knew, the chair was gone, and the girl was standing upright, much closer than she'd been a second ago. Paul swallowed, and then straightened up to face her again.

"You wanna gobble up as many souls as possible, don't you?" he asked. "I respect that. But you're not doing it here. This is a warning, rookie. Get out. Get out now, and find your own corner of Hell. Because if you don't, then you'll belong to us too."

The girl's image flickered, and then disappeared. She wasn't gone – Paul knew better than that. Just mulling over his warning, most likely. She probably hadn't counted on winding up in an already haunted hospital. Too bad. She could learn the hard way, just like everyone else.

The kid had style – Paul gave her that much. He was impressed by her technique. Scrambling the electronics was a classic poltergeist move, but controlling the T.V.s like that, and putting her own tortured memories up on the screen – that was something new.

One thing troubled him: she was powerful enough that her psychic reach had gone all the way down to the Old Kingdom, to the dilapidated old computer in Gottreich's junk room. Paul wouldn't have expected that from a rookie only twenty years dead. Also, she had a lot of rage, and that gave her an edge that he didn't like.

He wondered just how many she'd killed so far, and how. Becca would know. Not in her waking mind – her waking mind was useless. But if Dr. Massingale could make her sleep, maybe he could bring her to the Old Kingdom, and talk to her.