Thank you for reading!

Walking up to campus at Fillmore Graves, Major couldn't help feeling super cute. He took a few selfies before going in, just to remember this day and how it felt, starting a new job as a real zombie, alongside other zombies just like him. It felt right, like he was finally where he belonged.

But on his way to the locker room, passing all those buff soldiers, tough and trained and ready for anything, he couldn't help starting to feel insecure. God, they were so much better than he was! How would he ever measure up? In the locker room it was even worse, seeing how cut they all were. They must have great trainers here. Maybe he wasn't going to be fit enough. Maybe they were all secretly laughing at the wimpy new guy. Major cringed, wanting to climb right into the locker before they had a chance to stuff him into it.

He couldn't even put on that uniform. They would all see how completely inadequate he was if he did. And let them see his abs, those flabby things? Not a chance. He wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled another one over his shoulders so no one could see his pale skinny chest.

Across the locker room two guys were discussing their uniforms and how the holster should fit. Both of them were like gods, muscular and trim and perfect. Major was not worthy, he thought, unable to take his eyes off them.

One of them saw Major staring at them and turned to him with a frown. "Help you with something, newbie?"

"Your abs make me want to kill myself," Major announced. "You're basically carved out of marble and I'm just like, like this hideous blob of dead fat."

They looked at each other and then back at Major, and he was sure they saw it, too, how gross he was and how he didn't belong here in their locker room. He should totally just go, just slink away and forget he ever came here.

And then it struck him, the absolute over-the-top ridiculousness of what he had just said, and what they must think of him right now. He cringed, so embarrassed. How would they ever take him seriously now that he had started off as the guy who ogled people in the locker room? How would he explain the words that had just come flying out of his mouth? With some relief, he remembered that they were all zombies here—if anyone could understand the mood swings that came with certain brains, it was his fellow soldiers, so he came clean.

"I'm on teen girl brain. I'm sorry!"

"You're not on the tubes," said one of the other soldiers knowingly.

"Tubes?" Major echoed.

"We all get these." The soldier turned and pulled something from his locker. Like an individual yogurt packet, but gray and, frankly, not appetizing. Still, brains were brains, and if you mixed it with something … "Bunch of brains mashed together. No visions, no crazy mood swings." The soldier nodded, clearly finding the tubes an improvement.

God, that sounded amazing. Major knew the visions were important to Liv, and she was willing to live with the mood swings and the personality changes in order to be able to do her job and make a difference solving crimes, but he wanted his own brain, his own mood and thoughts, not someone else's.

"Oh, thank god! I cannot stop taking selfies." He grabbed his phone out of his locker, calling up the photos and scrolling through. "I stare at them, and then I just, I criticize myself." He swiped past a few inadequate images of his pale flab. "I mean, look at this! Ugh. I look like ass in every picture!" He held the phone out so his fellow soldiers could witness the grossness that were his pictures—

And suddenly he could see an Asian man leaning forward to stare at an outstretched phone and hear a girl's voice saying, "Gross, right?"

"We have to take this to the authorities!"

"What? We can't! Winslow will never forgive me!"

As quickly as it had come, the vision went, leaving Major gasping for breath as his mind returned to his body and the Fillmore Graves locker room.

The other two soldiers looked at him. One of them said, "Newbie, you've got to get on the tubes, because this is weird. It's one thing to get the visions, but a whole other thing entirely to watch someone else have them." He turned back to his locker.

The other one was still peering at the phone. "Dude, I think these are okay. All you need is better lighting."

Major realized he was still shoving his selfies in the guy's face. He took the phone back, glancing at the pictures. Yeah, better lighting would help. At least, it couldn't hurt. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

Later, Major headed for the morgue to tell Liv and Clive what he had seen. Clive listened thoughtfully, thinking through the clues involved in the vision. "I went through a list of Cindy's classmates; she had four classes with a girl named Winslow Sutcliffe. Winslow's the name you heard in your vision, right?"

Major had staved off the teen girl brain as best he could during his shift, but it had come back, sassy and smart-mouthed, as soon as he left the locker room. "Yeah," he said to Clive, obviously meaning "duh".

"Look at you having helpful visions!" Liv gave him a supportive punch on the arm.

"You have no idea what was on Cindy's phone?" Clive asked. "Why she was worried Winslow wouldn't forgive her?"

"In the visions, the phone was facing the wrong direction. Like this." He held out the phone to Clive. "She was telling her dad, and he was all 'we have to take this to the authorities' and she was all 'you're ruining my life' and I was all 'why can't I just eat a Fillmore Graves brain tube thing because visions are super annoying'."

Ravi frowned. "Whoa, what's a 'Fillmore Graves brain tube thing'?"

"It's like a yogurt tube filled with mashed-up brains. No personalities, no visions … I'm pretty psyched to try it." He was, too. It sounded like heaven.

"No, no no no! If they want to eat brain mash, let them eat brain mash. But in this house, we eat whole brains, and we solve murders." Liv was laying down the law, and it was super annoying. Who made her the boss of what Major could and could not eat?

"Can we get back to the point here?" Clive asked, still not comfortable with brain talk.

"If we want to know what's on Cindy's phone, seems like a pretty easy problem to solve. Cindy didn't see what was on the phone, but Stan did. All we have to do is—" In a single move, Ravi whipped his phone out of his pocket and shoved it into Liv's face, shouting, "We have to take this to the authorities!"

Liv blinked. "What the—?"

Ravi tried again, from a different angle. Still nothing.

"Great idea, champ, but it's not working."

From behind them, a funereal voice called, "Detective Babineaux?" They turned to see a tall … person dressed all in black standing on the stairs. They held out their arms. "I was summoned?"

"I asked IT to send me down a guy—I didn't use a ouija board," Clive said, coming around the table with the baggie containing what was left of Cindy's phone. "Do you think you can get something off of this for me? I have reason to believe there's a photo on this phone that would be useful on the Chens' case."

"That's a phone?"

"I figured it was a long shot. You mind pulling up the female victim's phone records and checking her social media?"

"That … is within the realm of the possible." The IT person turned and left, presumably to go back to Halloweentown, Major thought.