Author's Note

Hello guys! Sorry it took me a little longer to get this chapter out to you, I had a few exams that killed my time. In any case, I hope the length makes up for the wait - this is the longest chapter yet! I'm not as happy with it as the one before it though. Things have slowed down a little, but promise to pick up speed soon. I apologize for any mistakes you might run into. I'll edit them all out during December. ^^"

Questions, Comments, Concerns? Please drop a review!

Chapter Ten
Revealed

"Don't matter if you believe in them or not. If they're there, they're there."

Joan Lowery Nixon, The Haunting

The world is not ready for truth.

It rejects that which is forced upon them, that which is different and panics under the strain of having to change their mentality in order to accept a truth they weren't ready to understand. That is why the best change occurs one person at a time, when the world is able to morph and adapt to the slow progression of change, at times hiccuping as a particular idea snags on previously conceived notions, before finally coming to a new realm of thinking.

Perhaps it was only through the grace of God that they didn't collapse upon themselves, that the truth forced upon them did not immediately turn them into savages searching for something familiar. Perhaps it was because the ectoplasm had known this town could withstand the fearsome pressure placed upon it now, that the people within it were remarkably able to adapt to the new circumstances. But he didn't think so.

Something told him this had been bound to happen, one way or another. That the land upon which they stood was cursed with a sore curse, that the ghost activity had only just been waiting for an opportunity to spread their wings and cover the city in darkness. That they had been waiting for that touch of evil, for that entry point for them to dive in.

It was their fate. To be the most severely haunted town in all of America.

Ashes to Ashes

"Amity Park. Awaken!"

He was holding his breath, eyes straining to see through the blackness. And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The lights flickering back into life, the movie stuttering for a moment before picking up where it left off, blasting them all with a wall of sound that they were not prepared for. It was as though someone had un-paused the world, had set things back into motion with no indication that something extraordinary had occurred. But of course, something had happened.

Danny had yet to figure out what though.

Now that he could see them, he turned to his friends. They looked all right, white-faced and shaken, but unharmed. Danny frowned, trying to understand too many things at once. What was Azazel's motive by saying that, what did he mean? When he had said it to him, he had given Danny the Diabolical Stigma. If he hadn't scratched everyone in town – and it certainly didn't look like it – what had he done? Danny frowned, pushing Tucker and Sam out with a nod toward the exit.

This time, they didn't question him and darted immediately for the door.

"W-what happened?" Sam asked once they were outside, her violet eyes wide and panicked.

"What did you guys see? Did you see anything? Hear anything?" Danny needed to know. He managed to keep his voice steady, not betraying the turmoil that he felt at the moment. Panic, anger, and joy. A selfish joy that maybe he was not longer the only one among his friends.

"I—"

"It got really cold," Tucker said with a shudder. "And I heard the same laughter from school."

Danny nodded. "What else?"

Sam opened her mouth but a cough interrupted her words. "Ug, sorry. I hope I'm not getting sick," she grumbled covering her mouth. Danny wouldn't have thought it weird if Tucker hadn't just started hacking as well. The blood in his face drained as he watched them, stared at them.

"He gave you—" He couldn't even say the words. He was torn between leaping with joy and despair. He could have prevented this, could have gotten them out of there. Couldn't he? Or when Azazel said Amity Park had he spread his malignant fingers to every corner of the town, not just the theatre?

"Gave us what?" Sam shot when he didn't finish his sentence.

"The—" he swallowed. "The Malignant Stigma, I think."

"The same thing as your parents?" Tucker choked in between hacking coughs.

Danny wasn't listening; other coughs were intruding upon his ears. His eyes turned to survey the entry to the theatre, to the people leaving and entering. They all were coughing though at different degrees. It was everywhere. He hadn't given the people the stigma; he'd given it to the ground they walk on. Almost comically, Danny's head dropped down, staring at the carpeted floor.

"Danny?" Sam said, and he felt her poke his shoulder. "What's going on?"

Danny looked up at her. "We should go talk to my parents. Now," he added when another wave of coughing hit Tucker, making him lean over for a moment to catch his breath. Sam didn't argue. She merely nodded and led the way out, covering her mouth every few minutes. Danny watched both of them apprehensively. How sick would they get? His parents had never really gone into deal concerning the Stigma because, obviously, he had his own story.

Not for the first time, he wished he could drive a car. Sure, the movie theatre wasn't far from his house, but merely seeing every pedestrian attacked by a fit of coughing was doing little to calm his nerves. It really was everywhere. The whole town! He suggested that he call his folks to just come pick them up, but his friends said it was fine. He had the nagging feeling that they were hoping to see something now, see some shadow as they walked down the road. And since he wasn't sure whether or not they actually would, he was forced to let them do so. He would've been entertained by their constant looking around if he wasn't so concerned by their coughing. And, after what seemed like an eternity, they came to his house. Danny took the steps two at a time and threw open the door, his eyes finding his dad sitting on the couch with the ecto-pulse gun and a screwdriver.

"Dad!" He said rushing over to him.

"That must've been a really short movie, or you are eager to get to work downstairs!"

"Dad—"

"My little boy, finally getting interested in ghosts. I knew this day would come."

"Dad!"

"What's the matter with your friends?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Danny snapped. He took a breath, glancing back at Sam and Tucker – who were coughing again. "Something happened in the theatre. I think they got the—the Malignant Stigma."

The smile fell from his father's face. "Maddie!" He called. "We have a problem!"

"More than one," Danny muttered.

"What's that, Danny?"

"I—Well, I think that the whole town got it too."

Danny rarely, if ever, saw his father's face pale. There just wasn't much that scared a ghost hunter, he supposed. After all, they'd seen a lot and probably worked up a tolerance so that they could keep a level head in tense situations. It meant quite a lot when the color drained from Jack's face, leaving him pasty white.

"Maddie!" He shouted, an urgency in his voice that Danny had never heard before. "You might want to hurry it up!"

"What happened?" his mother called from the top of the stairs. Within seconds she had joined them, her kind face tight with worry. Tucker coughed loudly again and Jack gestured toward the couch.

"It'll pass in a moment," he told him. "You and Sam sit down, put your heads between your knees – that helps."

"Jack—?"

His father surveyed his mother for a moment, the grave seriousness on his face surpassing words. "It happened," he said quietly.

"What happened?" Danny frowned. "Mom?"

"Maybe you should first tell us, sweetie," she countered. "Because, I think you know."

Danny stared at her for a moment before realizing that she was right. Or rather, realized that his original assumptions had been correct. Maybe he had a little bit of his parent's intellect – even if mathematical calculations were completely lost on him. "The demon stigmatized the city."

His mother nodded and he took that as an initiation to go on. "He touched, not the people, but the ground. It's ingrained. And that means…"

"We've become a ghost hot-spot."

Danny paused, puzzled by this. His friends had stopped coughing by now, allowing silence to fall upon them. Something about what his mother said didn't sit well with him. "But, wasn't it already?" he asked slowly. "I thought that's why you moved here."

His mother smiled sadly. "While its true ghost activity has always been a higher here—"

"But why?" Sam had gotten to her feet. "Why is this place being targeted?"

"We honestly are not sure." Jack scratched his head. "We think that the wall between us and the Ghost Zone is thinner here, easier to access than most places but we could be wrong. Ectoplasm is simply drawn here."

The ectoplasm likes your town.

"In any case, now ghosts and the like will swarm here." His mother seemed conflicted between happiness and grief, as though that news was good and bad. Which, Danny reasoned, it was. To a ghost hunter and scientist, it was one of the best things that could ever happen. It was like a paleontologist being thrown into a world of dinosaurs, able to study their field much more effectively. Except now, there was a danger factor – namely T-Rex trying to eat you. They might not be dinosaurs, but Danny knew the same idea applied here.

"The city has been tainted by a King of Spirits, allowing for the ectoplasm to fester – just as it did to give you your stigmas. I assume that was caused by the initial wound he did to the membrane between the two dimensions, anyone within the city got blasted. It looks like the only the weak version of it, but it'll mean that people will actually start to see the ghosts. It'll probably also give strength to the specters that come here, allowing them to actually become visible to those without the stigma – so even those who weren't here an hour ago will still see the spirits."

"In sort," Danny said slowly. "We're going to become a tourist destination. Because, we're suddenly one of the most severely haunted cities in the world, right?"

"That about sums it up."

Granting the wish of the ectoplasm.

Another moment of silence followed Maddie's words. One thing was for certain; his parents were finally going to have their reputation restored. They'd no longer be the crackpots firing at the shadows. The shadows would look back and everyone would be able to see it. That small fact comforted Danny. Sure, this wouldn't have been the way he would've wanted to gain some respectability for the Fenton name, but he'd take what he could get.

"So, what happens now?" Sam asked softly, glancing toward Danny before returning her focus to his parents.

For a few solemn minutes Jack was silent, gazing at the floor with something akin to horror on his face, then he looked up. And he grinned. "Now you, young man, finish that portal downstairs."

Danny stared at him. "Seriously? We acknowledge this town has become haunted, and you want me to finish that stupid hole in the wall?"

"Yes!"

"You've got to be kidding me." It was as though, after the initial panic and shock of the situation, they were perfectly fine with it. As though nothing had really happened.

"Sweetie, now we just learn to be more careful," his mother said, returning to her usual self. A smile was even tugging at her lips. "We've been living with ghosts already, only now everyone else will be able to see them too."

"But, what about—"

"Well, more might show up," his mother allowed with a sigh. "But we knew it had to happen sometime. This place has always been bouncing with activity."

"So what, life just goes on?"

"Yup! Now we continue our experiments and inventing with even greater vigor!"

Danny dearly wanted to smack his hand against his face, but refrained. Of course, his parents would think this is fantastic. A little life threatening, but overall a huge breakthrough for their profession. If they started taking house calls like a pair of Ghostbusters he might have to disown himself.

"Now, go finish breaking the wall! If we're lucky, your father and I can start installing it this weekend!"

"I've been meaning to ask," Sam said looking just as appalled by the whole situation as Danny felt. "What exactly are you building? I don't think we ever bothered to find out what with the excitement of the last week."

His mother and father beamed, as though they had just been asked the name of their newborn baby. But then, their excitement made sense. The fact that the increased ghost activity was being viewed as a good thing, made sense. Why they were so eager for Danny to rush down into that metallic basement and keep hammering away made perfect sense.

They had moved here because of the activity, because they knew that here was one of the few places that they could actually succeed in their endeavor. The activity made it that much more likely that they would accomplish a goal they'd had for a very long time. A dream come true, rushed back from their college days. Back when they were young and imaginative and had asked how come they couldn't just go into that world that lied out of their vision. It was their need to discover, to explore, to reach into the untouched realms of the universe and examine it under a microscope. They craving desire to go further than anyone had ever gone before, witness a new plane of existence.

"A portal to the Ghost Zone."

Ashes to Ashes

Sometimes, after experiencing the thrill of terror living with the mundane everyday is unbearable. That was certainly the way that Danny felt. Being sent to work on the portal was perhaps the only thing that made any sense in this new and improved town, and even then, it was a settle back into normalcy that was almost disconcerting.

It was as though the demon had never come, and if he had not been able to see the coal tar floating and swirling in the darkest corners of the streets he might've believed it had all been a brightly colored nightmare. But it wasn't. And it killed him because everyone was acting as though it had been.

He had arisen the next morning, settled himself in front of the television hoping to catch some inkling of the situation on the local news. But aside from reporting about the strange electrical outage and a widespread cough that seemed to be sweeping the inhabitance, there was nothing. He didn't know what he had expected, some special about a ghost haunting the box store on First Street? Had no one seen anything, in the whole town? Or had they seen something and merely hadn't realized what it was that they had seen?

He felt the absence of exhilaration and fear like a knife in his side. He knew it was strange, that wanting something weird to happen again was like asking for his own personal death sentence. After all, there was no way to know that the next time he encountered a demon or some other paranormal entity he'd live. And yet, he craved the thrill that came with the unknowable. There was only so much he could ponder, could wonder about what and why Azazel had done this to his town. Why the ectoplasm liked it enough to draw a demon king here. Only so much sitting around he could do before it started to drive him nuts. It frustrated him, made him even more eager to go downstairs and start hammering at the wall. Every cracking blow made him feel that much closer to the paranormal world that had suddenly clouded his vision had filled him with this strange desire to learn and see more. To understand what in the world was going on. His parent's hardly knew any more then he did concerning the manner of the tainting, only that they had been expecting something like this to happen. They weren't even sure why it was going to happen, only that their small pathetic city held some of the highest emitted ectoplasm levels in the entire world – part of the reason that they had settled here, and part of the reason they were so eager for the hole in the wall to be finished.

According to them, it was one of the few areas in the world where the dimension bleed through into the waking world with relative ease, as though the membrane was thinner here for one reason or another. It was one of the few places wherein a portal could actually be constructed. Of course, there was a voice in Danny's head that told him that it was both incredibly stupid and dangerous to build a portal, an open door to the realm of demons. They had no idea what to expect, no way to know what was waiting for them on the other side. Danny was curious and cautious regarding the matter. It would be cool to see into that world, but not if doing so would unleash some dark terror on the town.

When he had bought this up with his parents, they hadn't seemed bothered. In fact, they had seemed excited that something might come through the gate. It was a little concerning, but Danny would trust their judgment. After all, they were the experts on the matter – even if they sometimes acting like children, giddy with no real worry. But that was nothing new, they had always acted like that and it bothered him to no end. For the first time, he felt like the only adult in the world, the only sane person who truly understood that this was no laughing matter. Something serious was going on, and not even his own parents seemed to acknowledge that fact. Now he could understand how Jazz felt most of the time, her frustration at the lack of any logical thought or understanding.

And, if he had hoped his friends would back him up, would share his concern he was sorely mistaken. True, they had discussed it at first, had shared some worries and theories as to what had happened and why no one else had noticed anything yet. But soon, their conversation turned to the mundane, classes and the like. He had tried in vain to bring them back to the subject of ghosts.

"It's not that we don't care," Sam had said, "I just can't think of anything that we can do about it. I mean, if something is going to happen, then it will."

It was so anti-climatic and he hated it. Maybe that's why, sitting in advisory that Monday morning was so particularly unbearable.

"Dude, you all right?"

Danny blinked and looked up at his neighbor, struggling for a moment to remember the boy's name. Marty? No, Martin. That's right, the sophomore.

"Fine," Danny said turning back to the window. Today even the Coal Tar seemed to be toying with him, hiding themselves in all but the darkest of corners. He felt as though everything was luring him into a false sense of security, waiting until he and every other person thought nothing of the last few days before striking. If anything, it made him even more edgy.

Martin seemed to know that there was something off. He didn't look at all satisfied by Danny's answer but he didn't press him. Danny was rather glad he didn't. There was really no way for him to say what was bothering him without appearing insane.

"Have a good weekend?" Martin asked tentatively.

Again, Danny paused before he answered. Not just because his weekend had been terribly complex, but he was also rather confused by Martin's attempts at engaging him in conversation. Truly, the only people he ever really talked to were Sam and Tucker. It was almost strange that he someone else was trying to befriend him, especially after the chaos that was last week. Shouldn't he be avoiding him or making degrading remarks?

"Are you sure you want to be seen talking to me?" Danny asked dropping his voice to an undertone. His eyes flickered to Dash in particular, but luckily the football star was talking to someone else while they waited for Webb to call the advisory to order.

Martin stared at him before grinning. "Course I do. I don't care about who your parents are, or whatever." He paused. "I thought I told you this last time."

Danny shrugged. He sort of had, but not so explicitly. "Um…" Danny scratched the back of his neck, feeling slightly awkward. "My weekend could've been better," he said finally, surprised by his honesty. To his surprise, Martin laughed and nodded.

"I feel you there, man. I got this bug on Saturday, nearly coughed my lungs out."

Danny felt his heart skip a beat, his breath shallow out for a moment. "Really?" he said trying to be casual.

"Yeah! And, apparently I wasn't the only one," Martin went on. "It was all over the news the next day, some flu going around." He paused a moment. "You didn't get it then?"

Danny shook his head. "I didn't, my friends did though," he said slowly. He dearly wanted to ask if he'd seen anything unusual since then, but there was no way to ask that question and be casual about it. Or at least, he didn't know how to ask it without feeling like an FBI agent trying to investigate a murder. "I got stuck helping my parents remodel all weekend."

"Bummer," Martin laughed. "Still, at least you were doing something."

"All right class," Webb called over the din and the class melted back into silence. Danny glanced at her, noting that she seemed even more disheveled than the first time he had seen her. Her pants were ripped and had what appeared to be grass stains, her shirt wrinkled and a hair too large for her. She looked more like a sleep deprived college student than an actual teacher. "It's only been a week so I hope that none of your are failing your classes yet." There was a ripple of laughter through the students, Danny found himself grinning.

"But just to make sure you're getting back into the rhythm of school life," here she glanced meaningfully toward some of the older students, "I'm going to be calling you each up one at a time and checking things over with you. While I'm doing that, the rest of you will be playing a game." She paused a moment before glancing down at her sheet. "You guys can do another name game, would you rather, or—"

Martin had raised his hand and Webb nodded toward him. "Ninja attack?" he asked hopefully.

Webb shrugged. "Meh, sure. Why not?"

Martin and several other students whooped. Danny smiled but felt the knife in his side again, the bliss ignorance of the people around him slightly irritating. But then he was forced to stand and join in the game, and he found himself having fun in spite of himself.

Ashes to Ashes

"Danny?"

"Wha— Ouch!" Taking advantage of Danny's temporary distraction, Martin jabbed him in the ribs.

"Ha! You're out," he said with a grin. Danny rolled his eyes.

"I have to go out anyway, it's my turn apparently."

"Oh. Right. I knew that, man."

"Sure you did," Danny said over shoulder as he walked up to the front of the room. He'd never played Ninja Attack before, and he had to say, he found the game rather hilarious. But it was frustrating when people cheated – namely Dash. Or they hit too hard – again, Dash. Finally, Webb had decided to split up the class into two different games, one Ninja Attack and another playing something called Signs. Dash was playing the latter, much to his and – probably everyone else playing Ninja Attack – relief.

"So, how are you doing Danny?"

Now that he was up close, he saw how very tired she looked. The bags beneath her brown eyes were sunken and purple, her skin pallid. He almost wanted to tell her to get into bed that instant, sleep for two days straight before coming back to teaching.

"I'm fine," he said. "Are you okay?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

She stared at him for a moment before breaking into giggles. Danny couldn't quite understand what was so funny when she said, "You're sister asked me the exact same thing when I first met her. And here I was wondering what was similar about you too."

Danny blinked. "Oh," he said wondering whether or not that statement should offend him. But then, he understood his teacher's amusement. If he looked at it like Jazz was a perfectionist and he was easy going. They didn't even look all that similar either; at least, he didn't think so.

"Well, I'm a little worse for wear than usual, but I'll live."

Danny nodded then went with his impulse once again. "Can I ask what's wrong?"

This time Webb did not laugh. She merely appraised him for a moment, as though seriously considering his question. "I have a chronic illness," she said simply. "Sometimes it's worse and sometimes it's better, but we're not here to talk about me." She waved the subject away with her hand. Danny wasn't satisfied with that answer, but knew it was all he was going to get. Maybe he could ask Martin if he knew anything more later.

"Your schoolwork looks fine so far, so that's all good," Webb went on, glancing at her computer screen and Danny saw that his grades had been pulled up. After she'd said that though, she closed out of the page, revealing a bamboo background. "I have heard that you've been to the nurse several times last week, though." Worry flashed across her face for a moment. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Danny said just a hair too firmly. When she raised her eyebrow at him he merely shrugged, but did not elaborate. Just as she was hesitant to share the inner details of her life, he did not like everyone knowing about his. He could handle Dash on his own.

"Bullying isn't something you have to handle on your own," she said softly. "There are people you can go to for help."

"Are we done?" Danny asked shortly.

Webb merely sighed but nodded. "We are. But Danny," she said before he could get up and leave. "My door is always open if you need to talk or just vent. Don't wait until it's too late."

Danny met her gaze for a moment. He knew that she was being sincere, but he felt that spilling his secrets to her would do no good for him. He doubted there was really anything she could do about Dash and there was his own pride to contend with on that matter. He wanted to deal with it himself. And as for the other matters, well, he really couldn't talk to her about that.

"Hey Martin," Danny said when he returned. The sandy haired boy was sitting on top of his desk, watching the last four people fight it out.

"Hey, it go all right with Webb?"

"I think so," Danny replied with a shrug. After a moment he asked, "So, do you know what's wrong with her? I mean she looks so—"

"Sick?" Martin sighed. "I know she's an insomniac, but she told me once that she's got some chronic condition."

"Yeah, that's what she said when I asked."

Martin nodded. "It's one of the few things she doesn't really talk about, even if you ask her. Usually she'll answer anything if posed the question."

"I hope it's nothing serious," Danny said with a frown. Although he didn't know her very well, he liked her classes. Coming from a family of scientists, it was no surprise that he had some interest in the subject even if it wasn't his best.

"Nah, I don't think so," Martin said, though he didn't seem very sure.

Danny opened his mouth to change the subject to a more cheerful topic when coughing interrupted him. Martin covered his mouth, hacking loudly for a moment before regaining his composure.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Probably leftover from this weekend."

Danny nodded, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He savored the feeling, the adrenaline rushing through him. He couldn't hear anyone else coughing, so it was very likely that it was just a coincidence, a fact that disappointed him – which in turn made him feel slightly guilty about wishing for something exciting to happen. But something told him that, eventually, something would. Something big.

Ashes to Ashes

"You have a serious problem when it comes to obeying orders." He wasn't angry; she could hear only the barest hint of annoyance in his voice.

"I thought them more as of a friendly suggestion."

"Not anymore."

She nodded, the smile falling from her face. "All right."

It was strange that even though he wasn't yelling at her, wasn't reprimanding her for her misconduct she swore he was. It might even be better if he was. He was worse when grave seriousness possessed his features.

"Shall I leave the book with him, sir?" she asked in an offhand sort of way, wringing her white hands together. "Or retrieve it while he sleeps?"

"I think we can leave it in his possession. It may even be better off that way."

She was waiting for him to broach the subject, to begin conversing that actual reason that he had summoned her to him. They both knew what it was, both knew what had happened. When he didn't say anything, she took the initiative.

"What are we going to do?"

"This isn't something that can be undone."

"I am perfectly aware of the current— er… I know that."

He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Well then, considering the dilemma we find ourselves in we should – as you would say – push on."

She rolled her eyes. "Might've once said. But that's not an answer either, you know. Everything is going to change in this town and soon, I just can't figure out why it hasn't happened yet."

"The calm before the storm," he said with a wave of his hand. "A stigma received via a Land Putrefaction works differently. While the inclination has been bestowed upon everyone who was in the town at the time, it won't manifest until triggered."

"Triggered?" She folded her arms. "Triggered by what precisely?"

He shrugged. "I assume by some ectoplasmic event."

"Azazel's presence wasn't enough?"

"No, not quite. He was the one to perform the putrefaction of the barrier and got the first wave going. Nothing has really changed since he left."

"He just left? Before the ritual was complete?"

"Apparently," he ran a hand through his hair. "He had other business in the country to attend to. Or at least, that's what my informant told me. But then again, we don't really know what is the next step in this process. I can find very little information on it, even in the old texts."

"I see." She paused, mulling this over. So the Land Putrefaction had been a success, but there was another step to be done. She would never say she wasn't thrilled that the King of Spirits was gone – because she was – but what did that mean for Amity Park? "So, you don't know what needs to happen next?"

"Needs?" He chuckled. "Why Flynn, you'll make me think you want this to happen."

"I don't not want it to happen either. It's not a bad thing for someone like me."

"That is very true," he looked thoughtful again. It was an expression that was at home on his face.

"You would think that you would be trying to stop it," she said with a tilt of her head.

"Why, of course not. It'd not such a bad thing for humans."

"Isn't it?"

"Well, we'll have to look over our shoulders more often, I'll give you that. But for someone like me, the chaos will be beautiful to behold as everyone tries to understand exactly what is happening."

"But there's nothing happening yet." She sounded truly annoyed by that fact.

"Yet." He chuckled. "I believe it takes time for it to soak through the earth, to reach the Otherworld."

"And then the trigger."

"And then the trigger," he repeated with a smile.

"Forgive me, but under what circumstance— I mean, do you have any idea what the trigger could be? Any at all?"

"Why, so you can go warn young Daniel once again?"

She didn't reply and he laughed, though this time the sound was a great deal colder than before. A biting edge making her take a step back from him. "I won't," she said softly.

"You would," he countered, "but you do not need to. In all reality, I have no idea what will happen or what needs to. As I said before, there is almost no information about it, even to someone with my connections. Perhaps a swarm of ghosts invading, perhaps a simple thunderstorm, or maybe Azazel will return in a week and finish it. It's impossible to tell."

"And… what happens after?"

"Chaos, Miss Flynn. Glories Chaos as the town learns to fight against a new type of terror."