The old house groaned around them, its wooden beams shifting under the weight of years of neglect. The equipment Egon had set up flickered erratically, the usual readings distorted by interference that made no sense. Ray hunched over a PKE meter, smacking it lightly as its arms twitched wildly before going still.
"This doesn't make any sense," Ray muttered, adjusting the dials. "We're getting fluctuations, but nothing consistent."
Egon, crouched over a spectral analyser, frowned. "Either this house is throwing off some kind of field we haven't accounted for, or the spirits here don't like being quantified."
Marie, standing just behind them, wasn't listening. A subtle shift in the air caught her attention - something cold brushing against her senses like fingertips grazing her skin.
A presence.
Without a word, she turned and drifted away from the group, drawn down a dim hallway that stretched deeper into the house.
Peter noticed immediately. He straightened from where he'd been half-heartedly observing Egon and Ray, his brows raising as Marie wandered off, her head slightly tilted like she was listening to something he couldn't hear.
"Intriguing," he murmured to himself before slipping away after her.
Marie's footsteps were nearly silent against the creaky floorboards. The shadows thickened as she moved further from the others, the air cooling with each step. She didn't need to look back to know Peter was following.
"It's not wise to split up in a place like this," Peter finally said, voice low but laced with amusement.
Marie paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Are you warning me, or yourself?"
Peter smirked. "Bit of both."
She huffed a soft laugh but kept moving. He followed, watching the way her focus remained ahead, the way her expression flickered between concentration and something else - concern, maybe.
"So, how does it work?" he asked, keeping his tone casual. "The whole psychic thing. You touch a doorknob and suddenly know all of its deepest secrets?"
Marie let out a breath. "It's not that simple."
"No? Enlighten me."
She stopped for a second, considering, before continuing forward. "It's like… static in the air. Some places hum, others don't. Some people are louder than others, even after they've gone."
Peter tilted his head. "And what's this place saying?"
Marie didn't answer. Instead, she came to an abrupt stop, staring down the corridor. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Something was ahead.
Peter saw the shift in her posture. His fingers twitched at his side. "Marie?"
She raised her hand for silence.
Then-
A sound.
A slow, deliberate scrape from behind a door just a few feet away.
Peter tensed. The noise came again, like something heavy dragging across the floor.
"Great," he muttered. "Because that's not terrifying."
Marie swallowed. "There's something in there."
Peter took an instinctive step back. "Yeah, I got that part."
Another sound. Closer.
He glanced at Marie, her face set in sharp focus, her breathing steady despite the tension crackling around them. He wanted to impress her - wanted to prove he wasn't just the guy cracking jokes in the face of the unknown.
So, against every self-preservation instinct, he squared his shoulders and stepped forward.
"Stay behind me," he said, voice lower now, serious.
Marie raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.
Peter reached for the doorknob. It was ice cold. With a deep breath, he turned it and pushed the door open.
The room inside was dark except for the dim light from the hallway spilling in. Shadows stretched across the floor. Then movement. A hulking figure loomed near the far wall, barely visible at first. The air in the room twisted, and Peter's stomach dropped as he realised... it was growing .
The apparition swelled in size, its form solidifying into a massive man with hollowed-out eyes and a face twisted in rage. The curtains along the windows swayed without wind and the light fixture overhead trembled, its glass cracking. The furniture around the room shifted, lifted, trembling in midair.
The ghost turned its attention toward them.
Marie barely had time to gasp before it let out a guttural snarl, its form shifting violently. Peter's bravado evaporated.
"Nope."
Marie grabbed the door and slammed it shut just as the ghost lurched forward.
She turned to him, eyes wide. "Run."
Peter didn't argue.
They bolted back down the hallway just as the door behind them exploded open, debris flying as the entity's presence surged forward. The walls shook , the floor beneath them rumbling like something alive. Peter reached for Marie's hand instinctively, gripping her fingers tightly as they ran. Behind them, furniture wrenched free from the floor, hurtling down the corridor - chairs smashing against walls, a side table narrowly missing Peter's head before crumpling onto the floor ahead of them, causing them to pivot around it unexpectedly.
"Shit, shit, shit…" Peter panted, pulling Marie along as the chaos chased them.
"We need to move faster ," she snapped, her grip tightening.
Peter barely had time to register the command before the house gave an earth-shaking groan and the very floor beneath them threatened to buckle.
"Ray!" Peter bellowed as they rounded the corner, barreling back toward the others. "We got company!"
A deep, furious roar echoed from the corridor behind them.
Up ahead, Ray and Egon were in a frantic scramble, ducking behind an overturned table as they fumbled with the ghost trap. Sparks danced off the device as Egon smacked it against his palm.
"I told you it needs recalibrating!" Egon snapped, twisting a dial.
"This was supposed to be a scouting mission!" Ray added, flinching as a candelabra soared past his ear as it ricocheted off of the edge of the table.
"And I told you there was no such thing as a scouting mission!" Peter shot back, diving over the upturned table as Marie skidded to halt beside Ray, panting.
Proton packs - heavy, clunky, essential - were propped against the far wall, just out of reach.
"I take it things aren't going well?" Marie asked Ray. He barely had time to respond before a deep, ominous groan filled the room. All eyes shifted towards the grand staircase as the ghostly figure of the massive, angry man emerged - formless at first, shifting like fog, before solidifying into something hulking and furious . His eyes burned with hollow light as he started down the steps, the walls trembling with each slow, deliberate step.
The framed paintings that lines the walls around them trembled with each step, threatening to fall.
"Great," Peter muttered, "he's dramatic too."
Ray and Peter bolted for their proton packs, dodging a portrait that slid free from the wall and crashed into the floor ahead of them. Marie turned at the sound, just in time to see an old piano - massive and fast - rolling down the foyer towards her on squeaky wheels.
"Marie!" Ray lunged, grabbing her and yanking her out of the way just as the piano barreled past, crashing into the far wall with an ear-splitting bang .
Marie clung to Ray's jacket for a moment, both of them breathing hard. Then Ray reluctantly let go, turning just as Peter slung his own pack onto his shoulders before throwing Ray's at him which he caught with an 'oof!'
"Please tell me this thing works now!" Peter shouted at Egon.
"Unclear!" Egon called back, slamming a fist against the side of the trap.
Before Ray could get an arm through the straps of his pack, something tight wrapped around his ankles. His stomach flipped as his legs were yanked out from under him, slamming him onto his back.
"Ray!" Marie shouted.
Ray hit the floor hard. The breath shot out of his lungs as unseen hands dragged him across the dusty foyer, splinters biting into his back. Peter barely had time to curse before he was also yanked off of his feet, the both of them helpless as the ghost loomed overhead, its form shifting and flickering between grotesque solidity and misty translucence. The house rumbled. The chandeliers rattled overhead, dust cascading down in thick clouds onto Egon sheltered behind the table.
Marie pushed herself up from where she had landed against the wall and clenched her jaw. She could feel the energy - rotten, oppressive, boiling over with rage and she was done letting this bastard throw his weight around.
"HEY!" she barked, her voice cracking through the chaos like a gunshot.
The dragging stopped. Both Ghostbusters coming to an unnatural pause, stuck in place. Ray gasped for breath. Next to him, Peter stared up at the entity as he tried to push use his legs to propel himself backwards and founds that he couldn't.
Marie stood, brushing herself off, and fixed her gaze on the apparition looming at the top of the grand staircase. His form flickered and twisted - at times a hulking figure in a dark, tattered suit, at others nothing more than a smudged, writhing mass of energy. But his face , cold, sneering, furious, held its shape.
She lifted her chin. "William Balmont."
The ghost's form jolted, as if startled by the sound of his name.
"Oh yeah, that's right," Marie continued, striding forward. "I know exactly who you are. Lord Balmont. Master of this house. Business mogul. Self-made tyrant."
The air crackled , the ghost continued to observe her with a malicious glare.
"You had a whole railway empire, didn't you?" she pressed on, voice laced with mock sympathy. "Put thousands of people to work - and in the ground." She tilted her head. "Tell me, how's the empire doing these days?"
The ghost twitched. Down the hallway, another portrait slid from its place on the wall, smashing into the floor.
"Oh, wait." Marie's smirk was sharp, cold. "It isn't doing anything. Because it's gone . Your railway doesn't exist anymore, William. It's been paved over, replaced, forgotten." She let that sink in before delivering the real blow. "Just like you ."
The room shuddered.
Peter let out a low whistle. "Oof."
But Marie wasn't done. She took another step forward, her voice thick with dark amusement. "Oh, and you remember your wife?" She laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, she outlived you. By years." She took another slow step forward, twisting the knife. "She had an affair, by the way. Years before you died. A whole second life behind your back. And here's the kicker, Will. She was happy without you."
"Not only that..." Marie's smirk deepened. "She lived to have the vote." She let the words drip with satisfaction. "Oh yeah, that's right, buddy. Women have the vote now. Even the service staff."
Ray's eyes widened. Peter muttered, "Holy shit."
The air whipped around them furiously, debris that had landed now taking flight again.
Marie stood her ground, watching as the ghost shook with rage, his form cracking apart, flickering wildly.
"You don't own anything anymore," she said, voice now low and edged with finality. "Not this house. Not your name. Not even yourself."
The swirling debris began to drop suddenly and curtains slumping back into place.
"You're just a sad, angry little man who got left behind. And now?" Marie tilted her head. "Now you're nothing."
The ghost roared. A violent wail ripped through the house, shattering what was left of the windows. Marie's hands went to her ears as the ghost's form collapsed in on itself, twisting in agony before-
POP.
A shockwave blasted outward from where the apparition had been standing.
Marie barely had time to react before the force knocked her clean off her feet, sending her crashing to the floor. Ray and Peter scrambled up at the same time, both of them reaching her in a heartbeat.
"Marie!" Ray slid to his knees beside her, gripping her arms. "You okay?"
Peter crouched beside them, eyes darting around. "Okay, remind me never to piss you off."
Marie blinked, a little dazed, before flashing them both a breathless grin. "It worked , didn't it?"
Ray let out a relieved, disbelieving laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, it did."
Peter blew out a slow breath, shaking his head. "That thing threw me across the room, and she just talked it to death. " He nudged Ray with his elbow. "I think your girlfriend might actually be scarier than the ghosts."
Egon, who had been watching the entire thing with scientific intrigue, simply adjusted his glasses. "Fascinating."
Peter threw up his hands. "Yeah, that's one word for it."
Marie just smiled up at him - her hair wild, her cheeks flushed, and a triumphant spark in her eyes. And for a second Peter forgot all about the bruises he was definitely going to have later.