Chapter Text
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[It's a video.]
[xx/xx/2006, 14:49]
[00:03:00]
[Play?]
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"-n't know who you are, and as much as I hate to say it, you need to let Wes go. You can't just go around taking whoever you want around for a joyride, especially if you're damaging their body like that. I'm giving you one more chance to leave peacefully."
[The familiar voice of Phantom filters through the speakers.]
[The footage is looking down at a clearing resting between a bunch of barren trees. Wes is standing near the center, head tilted to the side and up towards the camera.]
[After a second or two, the kid makes a grunting noise, and his voice rings up from the clearing:]
"Bit hypocritical, don't you think? You have no footing to play authority on the matter of what does or doesn't happen to the living in this world."
"Oh for- alright, that's it. Time's up, bozo!"
[The footage zooms towards the ground, and the camera tumbles off the Phantom's belt, coming to a rest in a pile of leaves with several loud “thuds”.]
[When the playback stops swimming, it's upside down and tilted at an angle, focused on the two boys. Phantom's back is to the camera, and it looks as if he's punched right through Wes, arm sticking straight into his abdomen, surrounded by an eerie glow. Wes' head is bowed and his hair is shielding his face from view.]
[Neither of them move for several seconds, and the unnatural silence is deafening.]
[Slowly, Wes reaches up and grabs Phantom's arm before suddenly jerking his head back like a broken doll and barking out a laugh. It's a harsh and guttural sound that's dripping with venom. Phantom flinches at the sound.]
"Wh- wha-"
[Before Phantom can even get his bearings, Wes yanks at the arm phased into his chest, and secures something onto his wrist.]
[Phantom shrieks as Wes pulls him closer, head jerkily moving to look back down at the specter. He's hunched over the ghost, eyes wide and face sporting a feral grin.]
"Your first mistake was assuming only ghosts were capable of possessing a living being."
[Phantom begins to panic. He leaps into the air and levitates for a few seconds before crashing down to the forest floor.]
[The action causes Wes' body to ragdoll after him, their wrists linked by the cuffs, as the impersonator uses Wes' voice to cackle.]
[No effort is put into trying to brace Wes' body by the puppeteer as Phantom drags it around like a corpse in his attempts to slip out of the restraints; It's served its purpose.]
"No, no! Stop! Let me go! Let me- Get... off! Me! You... creep!"
"You’re a slippery one, I’ll give you that, ecto-scum, but it’s over. We’ve got you now."
[It's the last thing that slips out of Wes' mouth before a glowing net rockets across the footage and drags both boys out of frame.]
[Phantom shouts and screams as several new, deeper sounding voices pick up off-screen:]
"Target secured."
"Begin clean-up-"
"Requesting pick-up team-"
"Let's move."
[There's what sounds like a struggle and something dragging through dead leaf-litter before the voices, and eventually Phantom's cries, fade away to nothingness.]
[It's silent, save for the gentle sound of the wind, and the rustling of leaves against the camera.]
[The sky is grey and dreary between the gaps in the naked trees, branches dancing and swaying slightly with the autumn breeze.]
[There's the distant sound of a crow cawing that echoes through the empty forest before plunging everything back into a whist reticent.]
[Everything is still.]
[Everything is quiet.]
[The footage ends.]
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[End of gallery.]
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