Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Being X is a dick. After I died in my second life, I would be reborn again, so I’m guessing he was smart enough to continue my soul’s reincarnation. Still, I assumed that after winning and being reborn, I would be like anyone else and forget my past lives, but here I am in another orphanage. Why another orphanage is he so incompetent? He started all my life like this cause so far, it ⅔, and it’s pissing me off even more so how I’m in the same body as last time with slight differences. From what I can gather here in the early 70s, my parents seemed to have been hippies and met at Woodstock, where I was conceived when my mother returned home to New York City, she wouldn’t kill me, being that all life was sacred and all that hippie stuff and instead dropped me here as soon as I was out. It seemed like the world of my first life, so I appeared to be okay. I decided I might as well do two things in this life and do the same objective I have previously. Still, this time I’ll find a way to fight Being X cause at this point, I’m mentally around 150, so I would like my soul to continue but not with the memories.

In contrast, my future life would lose the advantage of future lives. I trust my soul to be fine without it. My first life did alright without it. As expected, I was seen as gifted and was able to graduate high school at 12 in 1982. I then got accepted to Columbia University and went through the school, getting all my required classes to graduate as well as my major, which led to an awkward situation of needing electives to graduate. None of the electives got my attention because my major was history. After all, living some things different from this one was still easy for me. However, I still hadn’t gotten all the credits to graduate, so I was going into another semester when I noticed that there was a class in Parapsychology. In my first life, I would have laughed at it and moved on, but this might be the way I could learn more about what being x is and how to get rid of him and maybe end my conscience reincarnation cause there is no way I’m going through puberty a 4th time. It seemed that there were three doctors, lots of grant money, and few classes in the program, meaning it could be an easy double major since it was new, as well as teachers that could help with any experiments that could lead to me beating the shit out of Being X the more I thought about it, the better the class seemed. My counselor was a bit confused, saying I wanted to double major but got me in the class, but he was okay with it once I would take some pre-law as an elective

The first day of class was odd. As I walked into weaver hall, I had difficulty finding the room but found a helpful janitor who told me it was in the basement. After going there, I found room 205A with the door that said Paranormal studies laboratory with the names of the three professors, Dr. Egon Spengler, Dr. Ray Stantz, and Dr. Peter Venkman. What was concerning was that there was red paint that said VENKMAN BURN IN HELL along with a door tag requesting a maid to clean the room. Already I thought about dropping all these classes, but I needed these and considering the probability that not many schools had this class, I figured this was my best chance to fight Being X. So, against my first thoughts, I knocked on the door. Once I did that, I heard some crashing items and whispered talking, then saw the door open a crack and then close only to be followed by more whispering followed by more crashing only for the door to be open by a man sometime between his 30s-40s with the biggest smile.

Chapter Text

Behind him, I saw two men, one with a prominent widow’s peak and a skinny man with circle glasses.

“Are you our new student?”

“Yes, I am Tanya Degurechaff.”

“Great, I knew it well. I’m Dr. Ray Stantz.” He held his hand to shake, which I did, but his handshake was very exciting, making my whole arm shake. “Come on in,” he said as we walked me into a small room. He then pointed to the other men I saw before.

“This is Dr. Egon Spengler,” Dr. Stantz said while pointing to the tall man with circular glasses.

“Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Spengler. I’m Tanya Degurechaff,” I said as I held out my hand for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you too. Do you have any experience in this field,” he said after a moment taking my hand.

“Afraid not, but that’s why I signed up for all your classes,” I replied back

“Finally, we have Dr. Peter Venkman,” Dr. Stantz said, pointing to the man who had the widow’s peak.

“Hello, nice to meet you, you can call me Peter better call everyone here their first name its what we call each other also how old are you? You seem a bit young,” Dr. Venkman said, already grabbing my hand and shaking it the way a car salesman would.

“Uh … nice meeting you too, Dr. Venk- I mean Peter. I’m 13. I graduated public school early.”

“Isn’t this great, guys? We got a gifted student.”

“Uhm, Ray, if you don’t mind. Why was I sent here? Isn’t this your guys’ laboratory”

“You see, kid,” Peter said as he put one arm around me, “the university is not going to give a classroom to three scientists who mostly do research and experiments … what I mean to say is that you have the great honor of being our first student. See, as long as we prove our department does something, anything really, and we offer classes, they don’t do anything, and we have equipment but not anything ridiculously huge, so we don’t need much space, and we don’t complain since we get plenty of funding from the parapsychology grants, so we are a little bit excited to have a student for a change. At least those two are,” he got down to a whisper, “truly, I have no idea what I do here. I’m just here since the classes were easy with these two, and the grant money is very nice also. I’m just going to assume you’re here for something similar I won’t blame you if you don’t believe this nonsense,” raising his voice to be a talking point again, “do you understand, kid.”

“Are you telling me that this is it?”

“Pretty much, but we do a lot of field research. Egon and I have been all over the state of new york going to every possible sighting.”

“Yeah, ray’s pretty proud of that even if they never found anything out.”

“No, we did like that one time in….”
As the story began, my notice shifted to Egon, who was messing with some teardrop device. He activated the device, and two glowing wings went straight out. He then moved it in a different direction, and the device’s wings returned. He then moved it back towards me, and the machine began making noise, and the wings went back out. I wasn’t quite sure what this would mean, but it seemed that the device could tell there was something with me that would give me more confidence in learning from these guys.

“So Egon, if it’s alright, how will my classes with you all be done if I’m going to be your only student” even if Vennkman said to call them by their first name, I needed to make sure.

Egon jerked when he heard his name, then replied, “right, uh … to be honest, we never really expected anyone to sign up for this class, so for now, it will be assigned reading along with helping us with our experiments and even though you are new to this particular field as long as you help us with the experiments you will be sighted on our papers which will do great for your career, I mean we put Peters name on the papers, and he couldn’t even tell you what we do here.”

“Hey, I do more than just put my names on paper.”

“Now, don’t worry, we will have lectures after some time. We were just surprised when we got the notice that you would be a student, and if you don’t mind, let’s have this day be us getting to know you and answer some questions you might have. It will also help us figure out how lectures will need to be,” Ray said while gesturing to the table they had in the small laboratory.

“We’ll try to make sure that Egon doesn’t run too many tests on you,” Peter said while plopping himself in the middle seat “did you know he tried to drill a hole in his head.”

“That would have worked if you didn’t stop me,” Egon said as he took the seat to the left of Venkman.

“Yeah, sure it would have,” Venkman said as Stantz took the seat to Venkman’s right

“What is that box in front of you, peter, if you don’t mind,” I asked, taking the seat across from Venkman

“Oh, this, yeah, it’s a shock box we are using to test a theory, and could you stop with all the “don’t mind” and the “if I may” I understand you want to test your boundaries, but we don’t have a stick up our asses and would make this whole “having a student” be a bit easier for us all you included”

“Alright then, and what kind of theory requires shocking people? Isn’t that a bit barbaric “

“Well, I am studying the effects of negative reinforcements on ESP ability.”

“So you are shocking people till they guess what’s on the other side of a card.”

“And don’t forget making the other party think they have abilities adding to additional negative reinforcement, but yeah, pretty much. I am a bit surprised you knew what it was”

“Well, it was evident since you have some Zener cards right there.”

“Fair enough”

“So what made you interested in these classes? Did you have an experience general interest in the unknown, or do you want to be a pioneer of science and want to be remembered as one of the great scientists in this field” Ray said as if he couldn’t say it fast enough

“I guess something of a mix of personal experience and general interest.”

“Fascinating would you mind telling us what it was”

“No, maybe later” it was a good idea not to tell them about the being claiming to be a god since that might be a bit crazy even for these wackos, but I would like to know what that device Egon had was

“That’s fine, we understand,” Ray said, slightly disappointed.

“It’s just the story is a bit crazy, and I would prefer to know who you guys are before I tell that story. I didn’t even tell my best friend the story when I still knew her. I’ve told no one” I started to get a bit teary-eyed with the memories of Viktoriya.

“Okay, well, let’s just start with some simple questions then,” Venkman said, seeing that I was getting uncomfortable.

“Sounds good”

“Have you read Tobin’s spirit guide?” Egon asked, handing me a relatively thick book.

The rest of the conversation was just basic questions about my interest, what I knew, and general questions about the class, as well as explaining some things they thought I would need to know and will often hear from them.

By the end, I decided I would stick with the classes since the men teaching the class were both odd and unprepared to teach a lesson. Though They seemed competent enough with the material and were used to people not understanding what they do, explaining it to a student would be relatively simple and routine.

Then I got to learn more about them as teachers, where they graduated, what their majors were what they do. Though when ray and Egon were explaining, Peter looked just as surprised as I was. From what I can tell, Peter was the mouth that did the talks with the higher-ups and would get funding as well as the tools and the equipment for experiences devices and other things.

Egon seemed to be the scholar. He would make charts and research and was even the person to design and build That teardrop device that could measure psychic kinetic energy.

Finally, Ray seems to be the spirit. While he is very knowledgeable about the subject on par with Egon, he is much more excited about it. Well, it at least shows. He is a bit of everything between the other two. He can build and chart but can explain things relatively in easy-to-understand terms.

I’m looking forward to my classes. I have to complete all the books they gave me. Why did they have to provide me with so many books? I’ve had English classes with less reading.

Chapter Text

Since that day, I have had regular classes with Spengler, Stantz, and Venkman. This has been an exciting experience since they all had different ways of teaching, at least those who taught me things. Spengler was focused on the reading materials and the graphing of any findings. Stantz wanted me to do more hands-on teaching, dragging me to random parts of New York to watch what ended up being glorified misunderstandings. Venkman just gave me all his work, including grading my papers.

After several months of this weird learning style, I started to learn a bit about the paranormal world, including the afterlife theories, which led to interesting conversations with each of them. Spengler seemed to believe in a god but didn’t focus too much more than that. Stantz was a bit more conflicted since he seemed to have lost faith in one but more of a devout catholic to a calmer nondenominational type. Venkman made a joke and, when pressed, just made more jokes. He didn’t want to discuss it.

To keep me around to help out, I got a job as their secretary and ensured I was more involved since if they had any calls, I could at least know a bit about the calls and how to talk on the phone. Well, one day at their “office” studying for some test for Spengler, the phone started ringing. As I usually did, I Picked up the phone and began talking.

“Hello, Columbia University Weaver hall room 205 office of parapsychology. Tanya speaking, is there a message I can give to Dr. Spengler, Stantz, or Venkman?”

“Uhhh y..yes actually … I’m Roger Delacorte, Head Librarian at the New York Public library on fifth avenue, and a Librarian here is claiming to have seen a ghost in the lower levels, and from here we can tell you are the only people to check this out.”

“Sure thing, I can get the doctors over as soon as possible. Is there a time you would like for them to come in?”

“Uh, as soon as possible would be best.”

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll get them there as soon as possible, have a good day, sir.”

With that, I hung up the phone after a few seconds to not be rude, then picked it back up to call Stantz and Spengler. I made sure not to call Venkman since I last called him; he said that he would up my grade if I never bothered him again, and while I wasn’t failing these classes, I had to keep my grades up for scholarships and anything to have more money in my pocket was a good thing.

As expected, Stantz and Spengler were excited and told me to meet them there. After putting the phone on the receiver, I got up, put my jacket on, and did a quick check to ensure that Venkman’s “experiment” was set up and that I plugged in the shock box. Venkman somehow shot two desperate enough students to partake in his experiment.

I felt terrible about the one he would purposely shock more. After making sure, everything was in its place. I headed to the subway to go and meet Stantz and Spengler at the library. Most likely, it was just a wrong sighting. After an hour or so, we would head back to the campus study footage where nothing happened. Venkman and I would have to explain every dust speck and every minute jump in any of the devices.

As interesting as their theories were, they still didn’t have any actual proof, which was starting to make me want to leave the classes. Still, I was already past the point of dropping the classes without charging me for them, and I was sure of my scholarships, but I didn’t want to test them too much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I eventually arrived at the library, where I saw Dr. Spengler and Stantz standing near one of the lions. Stantz seemed to be talking to Spengler when he saw me and waved me over. Spengler seemed to be working on his teardrop device.

During an outing like this, I was taught that it was called a PKE meter, which stands for psychokinetic energy. The device would be able to detect the constant energy of ghosts. Since ghosts always have to spend energy to exist, it was a rather good way to track a spirit, mainly because the energy stayed where the ghost used to be, taking a reasonable amount of time for there to be no trace.

Still, after a few hours, the traceable energy is barely noticeable to the device since the half-life of the energy isn’t that long. This was why it could track ghosts that were there recently and wouldn’t have to worry about following a spirit there years ago. Though it led to the question of why it seemed to react to me occasionally, and even if Spengler never talked to me about it, I could tell he was just as curious, especially since I could use the device without it going off on me.

However, it could be that Spengler was able to make sure that it would just ignore the effect I had on it, similar to how when weighing something. Still, the container to hold the object on first becomes the base weight instead of detecting me at, say, 175 compared to nothing. 175 becomes the base, meaning if I’m not nearby, it would say the area is -175. Still, if something had a PKE score of 176, it would appear as 1. That’s not to say my score was 175. I don’t know it since no one has brought it up.

After a moment, Stantz told Spengler I was there, causing him to look up from the PKE meter and wave me over. As I walked over, Stantz immediately started going on about the situation.

“Ah, good you’re here, just from here. Egon has already done some scans from outside. We didn’t want to start without you. Did you bring Venkman and some of the gear?”

“Shit, I Knew I forgot something. Wait, I thought you had the equipment to study some of the tapes in your apartment.”

“No, that was last week. “

“I’m sorry, I was in such a rush I forgot that.”

“Well, let’s get it then, and don’t feel so bad; it happens to the best of us.”

Egon chimed in, “This is good since I want to scan the building and the main floor more. I should be done by the time you get back.”

Next thing I know, Stantz had grabbed the Sleeve of my jacket and was rushing me to the subway, going on about how happy he was and that it was the real deal, as well as Peter, was never gonna believe this and that this was the ticket they had all been waiting for.

After going through the subway and returning to the university, we went down the stairs to the lab when we heard someone screaming, then what sounded like a short argument. Followed by a skinny student with an afro storming out of the room very angry, muttering about shocks.

Chapter Text

Stantz was the first one in the office, with me close behind. Before the door closed, Stantz was already talking to Venkman about the situation.

“This is it! This is definitely it.” Stantz said while immediately looking for the equipment. Venkman seemed to be annoyed. Venkman was with a rather attractive girl. He has probably made her think she has physical powers as a way to get in her pants.

“Tanya, those UV lenses come in for the video camera? And get the blank tapes. We need it. The one we erased yesterday.” Stantz told me.

As I set out to get the equipment, I could hear Venkman sigh and then turn to the paper-destroying bias or the female test subject and ask her if he could be excused. Venkman then got up and smacked Stantz upside the head while jumping. Venkman missed, as I knew he would. Even at his angriest, I knew he wouldn't hurt another living soul. Seeing Stantz surprised, Venkman glanced to see how the test subject reacted before talking to Stantz.

“I need a little bit more time with this subject. Could you come back in an hour and a half?”

“Peter, at 1:40 Pm at the main branch of the new york public library on 5th avenue, ten people witnessed a free-floating full, torso vaporous apparition. It blew books off shelves from 20 feet away and scared the socks off some poor librarian.”

“I'm very excited. I'm very pleased. I want you to get right down there, you to kid, and check it out and get back to me,” Venkman said in the most monotone voice possible.

“No, no,” Stantz tried to interject, but Venkman talked right over him, “get right back to me.”

“No, Peter, you're coming with us on this one. Spengler and I went down there. He took PKE valances and went right off the top of the scale, and buried the needle. We’re close on this one; I can feel it!”

Stantz then went over and dumped the things he had picked up on me and went to get the camera. Venkman just muttered to himself, knowing he couldn't win this argument. He then went to apologize to his test subject.

“I have to go now, Jennifer, but I would like to work with you some more. Perhaps you could come back this evening, say at ….”

“8:00,” she said excitedly, while Venkman was happy that he made sure to be as open as possible so that this line always worked.

“I was just going to say 8:00. You are a legitimate phenomenon. Talk to Tanya, so it's on my schedule. I need to speak a bit more with my partner a bit more.

After Venkman said that, he stood up and went to talk to Stantz to try to talk him out of him coming along. While Jennifer walked over to me to make the appointment, I just wrote the office number for her in case she needed to reschedule on some extra paper. Though I decided to have a little fun screwing with her by adding my phone number and a heart. I was comfortable with my sexuality, but this would, at the very least, make her upset.

After Jennifer left with the paper and a confused look, we returned to the library with Venkman this time. I could hear him muttering, saying odd things like “he's always got a feeling we're close” and “Why couldn't they have arrived an hour later.”. However, the weirdest was, “why should we trust that stupid meter? It goes off anytime the kids near it unless there's something in her. It just shows the damn things are broken.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As we were in the subway car to the library, Venkman tried to grill me since it was my fault that he had to come along.

“I’m not paying you that bit extra as the secretary for me to go on these trips.”

“You’re barely paying me for the number of excuses I’d come up with in the past, especially since Egon and Ray have known you longer. Do you know how difficult it was to convince them that it was pivotal for you to attend your great aunt Felicita’s funeral? Instead of exploring the Haunted sewer system! In reality, it was an abandoned teen hangout with a skipping boombox. One of them left in a hurry when you don't even have a great aunt. So excuse me for this one time. You must check out a library for an hour for what is likely a tired old librarian confused with some homeless people or pranksters.”

“Fair point. How about I add an extra 5 points for creativity or something.”

“Ha, 20 points on the next three essays.”

“Gold star next two projects and a heads up on a pop quiz”

“8 points on two essays and five on three quizzes”

“Deal, But you find me two pretty test subjects.”

“I can do that, Peter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We finally made it back to the library, ready to finish this examination so we could go back to the university to review any “evidence” we saw. As we walked up the steps, Venkman did the dumbest thing he does most days; he started speaking his mind.

“As a friend, I have to tell you you’ve finally gone around the bend on this ghost business. You guys have been running your ass off meeting and greeting every schitzo in the five boroughs who says he has a paranormal experience. What have you seen?”

Stantz thought of every encounter he had ever seen, even before I was their student. He only had an answer once we had reached the reading floor. While I did want to answer this, I couldn't because every errand we ran led to jack shit, but Stantz seemed pretty confident in his answer.

“Of course, you forget, Peter, I was present at an undersea, unexplained mass sponge migration.”

Venkman groaned at this, and I didn't blame him. Though this happened before me, he would just go on about this.

“Oh, Ray, the sponges migrated about a foot and a half.”

With that, we spotted Spengler under a table with a stethoscope on the table, listening to it. Venkman gave me a look that told me he would mess with him. At first, I thought about stopping him, but I recalled how occasional pranks were good for everyone.

For the time, the Salamanders decided to prank me by learning some Russy and putting some Russy pins on mine and their uniforms. They then woke me up with the Internationale and talked about fighting for the communist dream and replaced all my books with the communist manifesto and Das Kapital. They also kept calling me Comrade colonel. They also hid Visha, so I couldn't get a good cup of coffee to realize what was happening. It wasn't until I was halfway through a speech about the greatness of communism that I realized what they did.

So when Venkman gave me a look, I decided to go along. While Venkman started rapping his knuckles on the table while I blew some cold air on the nape of his neck, causing a chill to go down his spine along with the rapping, it was sure to make him think it was a ghost. Venkman then started saying Egon in a dramatic spooky way while he picked up a blue book.

“Eeegonnnnnnn!”

Then he slammed the book down on the table, causing Spengler to jump and look around along with the rest of the people in the library. Once he realized it was us, he got up and took the stethoscope out of his ears.

“Oh, you're here.”

“Yeah, what have you got?” Venkman muttered.

“This is big, Peter, this is very big. There is definitely something here.”

Venkman then pointed to Spengler. “Egon, this reminds me of the time you tried to drill a hole through your head. You remember that?” being Venkman's go-to whenever he disagreed with Spengler.

This leads to Spengler's defense, “That would have worked if you hadn't stopped me.”

A young skinny man walked up behind us and introduced himself. “I'm Roger Delacorte. Are you from the university?”

Peter being the closest, replied, “Yes. I'm Dr. Venkman. Dr. Stantz. Egon and our student Degurechaff, you spoke with her on the phone” Mr. Delacorte then shook hands with Venkman and Stantz. He gave Spengler and me a simple nod to not overcomplicate the introductions.

Mr. Delacorte then turned back to Venkman. “Thank you for coming. I hope we can clear this up quickly and quietly.” Venkman rarely did, either. He decided to spook the man a bit. “Let's not rush things. We don't even know what you have yet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Delacorte led us to the area where the librarian was being looked at, an open desk at the end of the room to avoid disturbing her.

The librarian in question was an older lady who was as pale as … well as if she saw a ghost.

Since Venkman was the best at talking to others which were debatable at times, he sat near her, though at an awkward placement near her head, meaning she would have to look up to see him Stantz was a bit further back with a recorder. To review the audio and footage later, Mr. Delacorte was to Venkman's left, seeming worried, especially how he was taking deep breaths to calm her. I was near the librarian’s left to try to comfort her since a younger female face would be better to see instead of a male scientist's.

“ I don't remember seeing any legs, but it definitely had arms because it reached out for me.” The Librarian said as she reached her arms out.

“Arms? I can't wait to get a look at this thing.” Stantz said, obviously to how traumatized the Librarian was. I gave him a look that hopefully told him he needed to tone it down.

“Alice, I'm going to ask you a couple of standard questions, okay? Have you or any of your family... ever been diagnosed schizophrenic, mentally incompetent?” Peter said, completely ignoring Stantz,

“My uncle thought he was St. Jerome.”

Venkman looked around with an expression of surprise “ I'd call that a big yes. Uh, are you habitually using drugs, stimulants, alcohol?

“No,” Alice said Instantly, sounding almost offended.

“No, no. Just asking. Finally, are you ….”

I coughed to let Venkman know I would ask the last question since it was a bit more personal than the other.

“Alice, are you menstruating right now?” I said, followed by a bit of blush. You’d think that being a woman for around 110 years, give or take, would help ask these questions. However, since I still consider myself the salaryman, there's still a bit of that embarrassment.

Seemingly embarrassed, Mr. Delacorte immediately asked, “What has that got to do with it?”

Venkman replied with a smile, “Back off, man. We’re scientists.”

Before Alice could answer, Spengler came back, “Ray, it's moving. Come on.”

With that, we got up and began following Spengler through the Library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After going down the stairs, Spengler quickly turned down one aisle. After going down and then turning into another, Stantz was close behind. After looking back at me, Venkman turned and spooky fingers towards Stantz. We all followed Spengler, where we saw the strange sighting of books stacked horizontally.

“Look,” said Ray moving around it to better record it.

“This is hot, Ray,” Spengler said as he waved the PKE meter near the books.

“Symmetrical book-stacking. Just like the Philadelphia mass turbulence of 1947.”

“You're right. No human being would stack books like this.” Venkman replied, knowing damn well the state of his section of the office.

I just stood in awe at how tall it was. I could never stack books this tall without them falling on me. Then I recalled one of the books that I had to read for this class.

“Wait,” I asked Dr. Stantz. “Wasn’t that a farmhouse where multiple torso apparitions appeared to be stacking everything while the walls were leaking ectoplasmic fluids”

“Why yes, rookie, but you’re forgetti-” Stantz stopped. “Listen,” Stantz said, turning his head.

“Do you smell something?” Stantz asked, which caused Venkman and me to begin sniffing the air to smell anything.

The air definitely smelled of something vaguely familiar, but it had been years since I sensed it. It was horrible but just small enough to not be noticed. As we followed where Spengler had decided to go, the smell intensified. The smell was bothering me with its familiarity. The smell was old, though. Maybe it was familiar because it was from either of my previous lives, but when I couldn't place it precisely.

We turned another corner and saw an absolute mess in the card catalog. Drawers were open, the cards were everywhere, and worse yet, they were covered in some sort of goo.

“Talk about telekinetic activity. Look at this mess.” Because, of course, Stantz would be excited about literal goo.

“Raymond, look at this,” Spengler said while putting away the PKE meter and taking out a petri dish.

“Ectoplasmic residue,” Stantz said, almost like he was in love. He probably was in actual love.

“Venkman, get a sample of this,” Spengler said while holding out the petri dish for Venkman to get it.

“It's the real thing,” Stantz said in utter bewilderment as he went around Spengler to allow Venkman to get the petri dish.

“Somebody blows their nose, and you want to keep it?” Venkman sarcastically said and started getting some Ectoplasmic goo when he stopped and handed me the petri dish.

“I’d like to analyze it,” Spengler said without looking away from the PKE meter.

“No reason for me to do this when we have you. It's a good experience. True scientists get their hands dirty,” Venkman told me while retreating his hand from the petri dish. Some ecto goo seemed to stay on his hand. He then wiped some on my jacket then began walking, only to continue to wipe it off every surface near him.

Not wanting to be too far behind, I grabbed one of the index cards covered in goo and stuck it in since I figured Spengler would also like one of the cards and its effects on it.

I then closed the petri dish and went after Venkman. As I walked over, it seemed like Venkman, I, too, had gotten some Ecto goo on my hand and skin. The goo appeared to have a numbing effect since my skin felt odd and funky.

The goo also felt a bit familiar feeling like magic from my past life but wrong, like a heating spell being activated but with no effect and cast backward.

“Hey, Egon,” I said as I handed Spengler his petri dish.

“There's your Mucus,” Venkman said, then his eyes got real big as he looked at me or better put behind me.

I could hear an eerie creek, so without waiting, I did a tuck and rolled forward just as the bookshelf crashed to the floor, causing my mentors to jump back.

While standing up, I could hear Venkman say, “This happened to you before?” Stantz shook his head no. “Oh, first time?” Stantz nodded his head yes.

“And you kid?” Venkman asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Uh, first time with a bookshelf. It almost happened once when I tried climbing one for a book I couldn’t reach.” I said, hoping they would believe that obvious lie.

“Okay then, we better catch up with Egon before he runs into stacked books,” Venkman said, sounding like he didn't quite believe me, which was fair since saying I learned to dodge artillery didn’t make any sense.

Sure enough, Spengler almost immediately began picking up where he had left off after the bookcase fell. Still, he was pretty close, so we were pretty close behind.

As we followed Spengler through the aisles of bookcases, I asked myself if this class was what I needed. I do this about twice a day at this point since it wasn’t like my previous lives where my plans were so clear.

My first life was simply to be part of a good company, climb the ranks and retire. Second, life was much the same, join the military, rise through the ranks, and retire. This one was going to be similar to the first life.

Still, the possibility of ending it all was too tempting to refuse, and not just temporarily, because as long as Being X is around, the possibility of these lives going on forever is possible. While immortality was great, it could be better when you don’t have to relearn everything every time you die.

Even though I could try committing suicide, that would just mean that Being X would win since I didn’t die naturally, and letting that bastard win was the last thing I would let happen.

Still, I was also tired, and while I did want my soul to continue, I did not want to remember three lives, most likely. Being around 200 years old mentally is just too much for any human. Also, I'm getting annoyed with having to go through puberty.

This leads to the question of these classes how do I know if it can help me theoretically fight Being X or if he obeys this world's rules since though he may not be god, he is still a powerful being that can reincarnate me?

Then there's the issue that, so far, my mentors have yet to be able to prove any of their theories. Admittedly, only two would raise fundamental theories, and Venkman just put enough words together to sound like a theory.

While Spengler's PKE meter proves that there might be something, there is also the possibility of many other things causing it to signal. Evidence in a field like this is hard, but like other fields, it's in its infancy, meaning that we may know as much as we might is impressive. Magic in my previous life, while learning about it, was able to truly show promise once the computation orbs were invented. Even that took a few years to get it as good as it was when I had it.

This is all to say that I might not have these classes next year since the lack of evidence is starting to annoy me. If it continues, it will seem more like faith than actual science, which I refuse to have.

At this point, our following Spengler seemed to end since Spengler had stopped everyone since the PKE meter started chirping louder than normal. Spengler then creeped forward out of the aisle we were currently in then scanned to the left, where the wings dropped a little he then turned to the right and, possibly for the first time since the interview with the little old Librarian Spengler, looked up from the PKE meter.

Spengler's face became surprised, “it's here,” was all he said. Stantz went past Venkman to see what could make Spengler so surprised. At the same time, Venkman simply walked casually to the end of the aisle and seemed to be shocked.

I was last and had to go past Venkman and Stantz and turned to be next to Spengler, and once I turned, that's when I saw it.

There before me was what looked to be an early 20th-century lady, most likely in her 70s. She was also completely purple and was bobbing in the air, as in she was at least 2 feet in the air but had no feet. She was see-through. The only thing that was not see-through was the book she was holding. She seemed to be reading it but occasionally glanced to check on some nearby books.

“A full torso apparition, and it's real,” Stantz whispered to Spengler with a smile.

I, like everyone else, was amazed this field of science was valid, meaning that I wasn’t wasting my time. Still, as glad as I was, I stopped to consider how we know this isn't some glorified misunderstanding, maybe a faulty light to explain the look. These are the older book section meaning this could be some sort of hallucination from spores on the books, or some may be a gas leak.

My mind began buzzing, trying to explain the events before me. If it were a light issue, it would only explain the colour, but why wasn't anything near the Librarian also purple, and why could I see through her? And if it were either a gas leak or some sort of fungi, there would be other issues. I had nothing to explain the Librarian every explanation I could think up. I was able to think of a reason that disproved it.

“So what do we do?” Venkman asked, leading Stantz to turn to look as Spengler turned with the two looking at each other, seeming to give a look that they had no clue.

“Could you come over here and talk to me for a second, please?“ Venkman asked as he raised his hand to pull Stantz's ear into the aisle we were just in, at which point I hit Spengler in the arm and pointed him back to the aisle, at which point he simply rubbed his arm as he went back.

“ Could you just come over here for a second, please? Right over here. Come here, Francine! Come here.” Venkman whispered as he let go of Stantz’s ear.

“What do we do?” Venkman yelled and whispered to the two leading scientists in this particular field.

“ I don't know. What do you think?” Stantz asked Spengler, hoping he could come up with a good answer so Venkman or I wouldn’t smack them upside the head. Spengler took a calculator out and entered an equation to avoid the question.

“Stop that!” Venkman again whispered but yelled as he smacked the calculator out of his hands.

Stantz seems to gulp before facing Venkmans wrath “we’ve got to make contact. One of us should actually try to speak to it.”

“Good Idea,” Spengler said, at which point they both looked at Venkman.

“No, no, no, get her to do it. It's why she's here.” Venkman protested, but it fell on deaf ears since Venkman had not only pulled Stantz's ear but spooked Spengler with the table and smacked a calculator out of his hands.

I agreed with Stantz and Spengler’s idea of sending Venkman since I still had some ectoplasmic goo on me, and this would be a great way back at him.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing such an important task when someone more qualified could do it. Plus, are you not the great persuader?” As I told him this, Venkman gave me a look of defeat before slowly walking out the aisle.

We all quickly follow him, with me holding the recording camera Stantz taking photos, and Spengler taking readings with the P.K.E. Meter. Venkman stood about where we were a few seconds ago.

“Hello, I’m Peter. Where are you from? Originally.” Venkman said in a calm monotone voice.

After a moment, the ghost looked at him only to shush him raising her finger to her mouth as she did so. Venkman immediately turned around and pushed us all back into the book aisle.

“All right, the usual stuff isn't working.”

“When has it ever worked,” I said in slight annoyance at how clueless the seemingly top scientist in the field was reacting to this.

“Okay, I have a plan. I know exactly what to do. Now stay close, stay close,” he began walking carefully toward the ghost. With no other ideas, I went along with it.

“I know. Do exactly as I say. Ready, ready” at this, we were less than 5 feet away from the ghost. I began feeling as terrified as I did when I woke seeing a strange man after I crashed after a fight with that crazy mage. The ghost turned to look at us as Stantz got ready for what seemed to be a pounce.

“GET HER” Stantz screamed.

Chapter Text

The ghost had turned just as Stantz screamed to “Get Her” left his lips. The ghost did not take kindly to Stantz screaming in her library. The face transformed, turning from a sweet old lady to something terrifying.

Her mouth elongated and grew wide. Her teeth expanded as her lips receded, her tight bun became loose and messy, her head sunk, and her eyes receded into her skull, leaving only the pupils to be seen.

Her clothes became tattered and ripped. Her skin sagged and tightened, allowing for the ribs and collarbone to be made evident. She let out a terrifying growl that should not have come from that of a dignified lady when she had seen only a moment ago.

I faced fear throughout my lifetime that, despite my good work effort, I would be fired or during my second life when artillery or bullets would get too close for comfort. Fears that I would either get over or become acquainted with even my first meeting with being X did not terrify me.

It shocked me until I regained my composure. The fear on the battlefield was less of fear but of annoyance or anger despite how I would later rationalize it, but this moment with something that should have been nothing terrified me to my very soul, the soul of the salaryman, not the fear of the body but the true me.

I’d seen things worse than this. I'd seen humans blown apart and rotten, yet here, a simple aging old woman screaming scared me to the core. I yelled, noticing that as I did, Venkman and Spengler had grabbed my jacket and begun dragging me out, with each backing away in different ways.

Venkman was facing where he was going, only looking back to ensure he still had me. Stantz was holding his arms out as a rearguard pushing all of us out, while Spengler was the oddest, jumping back but keeping Stantz Standing and not falling back.

We all ran up the stairs going upstairs, disregarding all library etiquette and screaming the whole way. Eventually, we blew past Mr. Delacorte, who started running after us, but it wasn’t until we got past the doors he said anything.

“Did you see it? What was it?” He asked, hoping he would get an answer.

“We’ll get back to you.” was all Venkman got out.

“What” was all Mr. Delacorte could say before we were completely gone.

While my teachers were not in the best condition, they could compete with me as we ran, only stopping halfway to the university on foot. Only then did exhaustion start to get them.

I was about a block further when I noticed and returned to find them. We continued walking silently as the scientist, who rarely ran, needed a moment to catch their breath.

As we got on campus, Spengler took out the P.K.E meter and his calculator and started doing calculations and started to fall behind, but he was prone to this from time to time, so I stayed with Venkman and Stantz in silence when Venkman started chuckling.

“Get her. That was your whole plan. Get her. It was scientific.” Venkman said with the biggest grin.

“I just got overexcited. But wasn't it incredible, Pete? I mean, we actually touched the etheric plane. You know what this could mean to the university?” Stantz said like a kid being told he was going to Disney World.

“Yeah, it's gonna be bigger than the microchip. Ray, I'm very excited.” Venkman said truthfully.

“I wouldn't say the experience was totally wasted. According to these new readings, I think we have an excellent chance of actually catching a ghost and holding it indefinitely.” Spengler said, finally catching up with us.

“ Well, this is great! If this ionization rate is constant for all ectoplasmic entities, we could really bust some heads! In a spiritual sense, of course.” Stantz said as he walked with Spengler while Venkman and I stopped momentarily, thinking about what Spengler had just told us.

The idea that spirits could be captured brought a lot of questions to be answered. The main one I was concerned with was if a spirit were captured, could something claiming to be a god be captured?

There was also the question of whether something captured could be killed. As much as the thought that I could finally deal with Being X was fantastic news since even at my most powerful with that damned type 95, I was nowhere near the power to fight something claiming to be a god, especially since that bastard powered that cursed device.

Now other questions came with capturing ghosts, spirits, and the like. How does that work? What does this mean for literally every idea of the afterlife? I knew of reincarnation, but is this what I would become if I lost the bet with being X?

I also thought of why now, why could we see spirits now even though there hadn’t been any other sitings? There was a clear route to go in science since these three had made a career out of it at a well-known college, but even then, the field was highly questionable.

I was the only student. They had to share and run the same office as a lab simultaneously. It was not a respected field of science. At this thought, I realized Venkman had begun walking back to the others, and I quickly followed.

“Spengs? You serious about this catching a ghost?” Venkman said with greed on his face waiting for confirmation from Spengler.

“I'm always serious,” Spengler said with little hesitation.

“Egon, I'm gonna take back some of the things I've said about you,” Venkman said, taking out a Crunch bar.

“You... you've earned it.” Venkman finally said handing the bar over was an interesting thing to see since it was a lovely moment. Stantz was grinning ear to ear at this exchange.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So Egon, is there an amount to the size of a ghost that the theoretical trap can hold,” I asked, wondering about the possibility of trapping Being X.

“Well, with the readings I have gotten today, I imagine with the amount or size, any spirit should be possible,” Spengler said, smiling, enjoying the candy bar Venkman had given him as we descended the basement stairs of their office in weaver hall.

“If you’re right, if we can actually catch a ghost and hold it, I might win the Nobel Prize,” Venkman said as if he had already won.

“Don’t say hello, Leslie,” Venkman told a girl passing by.

“If anybody deserves a Nobel recognition, it would be Spengler and me. We’re going to be designing all the equipment and doing the hard research. Even Tanya is going to help more than you will.” Stantz said, surprisingly all.

“Woah, I introduced you if it weren’t for me, you would’ve never met, and that’s gotta be worth something,” Venkman said, shocked and aghast, while opening the door with the paint, telling Venkman to go to hell still on it.

“Hey John,” Venkman said to the janitor standing right by it, which I found odd.

“If it weren’t for me, there be no ghost trapping,” Venkman said as I closed the door.

Venkman then opened the door to the lab/office, where men were removing stuff from the room with Dean Yeager standing over a desk.

“The possibilities are, are limitless! Hey, Dean Yeager!” Ray said, excited, ready to ask for more funding to begin catching ghosts.

A man then went past us holding some weird device I didn’t know the name of.

“I trust you're moving us to better quarters on campus,” Venkman said in a voice where he knew where it was heading and was hoping to distract himself from reality momentarily.

“Tanya, could you wait outside for a moment? I need to talk to your professors for a moment, and it's a matter of staff. You understand, don’t you.”

“She’s our student, and I think she should be here for anything involving us since it will impact her future academic career at this institute,” Venkman said, putting a hand on my shoulder in a tone of slight anger.

“I guess you are right. It will impact it. No, You're being moved off campus. The board of regents has decided to terminate your grant. You are to vacate these premises immediately.” The dean said this in a happier tone than one should have when firing one’s employees.

In my first life, I always maintained a monotone voice since any other tone would be unprofessional, only changing my tone if they refused, but that rarely happened, even with the man who pushed me on the tracks.

I remained calm, with only my word choice being a bit of anger, but my tone remained the same while the dean seemed too happy about the whole situation.

“Geez, kid, I knew you struggled with some classes, but this is bad that the dean had to expel you himself,” Venkman said, trying to joke once more upon the deaf ears of the dean.

“No, The university will no longer continue any funding of any kind for your group's activities.” the dean said, crossing his arms.

“But, the Kids love us. See this one we took with us on a field trip.” Venkman once again said jokingly, but his grip on my shoulder tightened slightly, then loosened.

“Dr. Venkman, we believe that the purpose of science is to serve mankind. You, however, seem to regard science as some kind of dodge or hustle. Your theories are the worst kind of popular tripe, your methods are sloppy, and your conclusions are highly questionable. You, Dr. Venkman, are a poor scientist.” The dean told Venkman as he sat down. While the dean was talking, more equipment was removed from the room, even confiscating the video camera and the camera that Stantz and I had.

“I see,” was all Venkman could say.

“Ehm, Does this include Dr. Stantz and me,” Spengler asked, hoping to retain his job.

“You better believe it,” The dean retorted before turning around to face the other wall and taking a moment to breathe.

Spengler then walked over to Venkmans left grabbed his coat while Stantz grabbed his Right label, and both men pinned him to the table.

“You said you floored him at the regent’s meeting,” Stantz said, peeved at him.

“Ray, I apologize,” Venkman said with a smile, waiting for both men to let go of his coat and then walking to the middle of the room.

“I guess my faith in the board of regents was misplaced,” Venkman said, hoping to, at the very least, get the last word in. The dean did not respond.

“I have to laugh they did this to Galieo,” Venkman said, hoping to get him to respond, and it worked since the dean turned around.

“It could’ve been worse, Dr. Venkman. They took the Astomener Philieas and staked his head to the town gate,” The dean responded, seeming to think this would shut Venkman up.

“Ouch” was all he could muster to say.

The men, in defeat, began to leave the room. As I was about to leave, I stopped since the Dean had not explained what was to happen to me, I decided to ask.

“Dean Yeager, what is to happen to me? I have been in this department since the spring semester.” I said, hoping I would not have to repay all I invested. The dean took a deep breath and sighed.

“Tanya, I am sorry you had to see that. Don't worry, your time will not be wasted since you already have all the requirements to graduate with your History degree, and this is your last semester.”

“The Board has determined that since this differs from how we prefer to do these sorts of things, you will also get your double major in Parapsychology. If you want to get your doctorate for whatever reason, I'm afraid to say that you will have to go to another university.”

“You also won’t have to register for new classes since you are above credits to graduate. My advice is to stay with the history degree and get a master's since I’ve been told your papers about the early 20th-century German view of war was so accurate that some thought it was a primary source.”

The dean seemed saddened about my involvement but only at that.

“Well, thank you for telling me. Good day Dean.” After that, I returned to my dorm to begin figuring out what to do from now on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In my dorm, lying on my bed, I began pondering my future even though this was my last semester at the university since I had spent every winter and summer doing classes.

Since I had done this, it left me questioning what I should do now that I was graduating and entering college. I was hoping just to get a degree when I entered the workforce.

I was more likely to be promoted, but ever since learning of this world's afterlife and knowing that those three were my best shot at ending this eternal torture Being X had decided to put me in, put quite a wrench in my plans to live a peaceful life.

This wasn’t like the empire where I thought I could take that bastard on this world and level the playing field.

The dean threw a wrench in that plan firing the three, meaning I couldn’t do that, but does that mean I should go back to my original plan of living a peaceful life and just hope that Being X recognized that I had won twice to the bet he made?

No, not when the answer was so close to finally beating him or, at the very least, leaving a black eye. How would I get the technology to build what Spengler only theorized today?

The smart thing for them to do was to begin looking at other universities and see if there was a program they could start or join, but that wouldn’t exactly be easy since they would be under constant observation for the first couple of years.

It wasn’t like here, where they had tenured but still got fired with the eradication of their department. I wonder what it is I should do. I think I’ll ponder a bit more before submitting one idea.

Besides, I wasn’t in the empire or Japan, so I could think for a moment I was already four to five years ahead of where I was in my first life. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my door.

I went to the door to see if it was the RA for my floor. She was a few years older than I and was one of the calmer RAs since she was known for looking the other way for some of the more minor rules of the campus.

“Yes?” I asked in a more annoyed tone than I wanted to give off.

“Right, Tanya, You have a visitor waiting for you in the lobby,” she said before turning around and leaving.

Before leaving the dorm room, I closed the door to ensure I had everything I needed. The idea of who could be the visitor was more than likely one of my instructors, but since it was implied to be a singular visitor, it could be any of them.

Quickly heading down the stairs after locking the room, I saw it was Dr. Spengler. He seemed still saddened by his termination of employment but seemed a bit happier once he saw me.

“Good, glad this is the right dormitory, Tanya. Do you want to continue your education in the supernatural?” Spengler said,

“Uh, sure, Egon, but I thought you got canned. How would that work?” I asked, hoping this might be how I could learn to trap Being X.

“Ray and Peter are currently trying to figure out how, but I think we may be able to do more research on the readings uncovered today.” Spengler said with the most enthusiasm I’d seen since the readings.

“When” Was all I could say at the moment.

“We’ll get back to you as soon as we can, but for now, I wanted to drop this off while I still could to keep up with your studies while we figure stuff out” Spengler reached into a bag a pulled out a few books and pieces of paper and handed it to me.

“What exactly are these,” I asked.

“These are your remaining tests with answers along with the reading lists for what would have been your semester. Do these to be up to date.” He said, handing me a few more items.

“Hopefully, one of us will stop by soon to let you know where the experiments will be done, but I gotta go see what Ray has thought of,” Spengler told me, handing the rest of the assignments and books.

“This is a lot to process, Egon. Why are you coming by? Aren’t I just a student?” I asked since there was no particular reason to go out of the way for a student who wasn’t their student anymore.

“No, at least not anymore, but you are a great addition to the team, and we would like to keep you close.”

“Well, I’ll take the compliment where I can,” I said, holding my hand out to shake.

“Till we see you again,” he said after hesitating for a moment before leaving.

After he left, I looked at the work and wished I could have smacked him for how much he had left. What did they think I was doing trying for a doctorate?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t till Thursday that I got any news on what happened or what they would do. Ray walked into the dormitory while I was just about to head out.

“Talk about timing. Hey Tanya, how’s Egons work been treating you? Also, where are you headed?” Stantz said, walking out with me.

“Hey, Ray, the work has been frustrating, and nowhere in particular, just walking around getting exercise. What about you? What have you guys been up to haven’t heard anything since Egon,” I said, slowing my pace for Ray.

“Well, that's why I’m here. We are going into business ourselves. We just bought a building today!”

“You did what! Where did you get the money for that” I stopped, stunned since they got fired not even a week ago.

“I got a third mortgage on my parent's house, but that's not important.” He seemed unconcerned about his financial decisions, but I let it pass since it wasn’t my money.

“But more importantly, we now have a place to build our technology, and since you don’t sound busy, mind coming with us to get the building ready and start building the equipment?” he said with hope that I would.

“Well, luckily for you, I only got one class on Wednesday so I can come with you. How far is it from here?” I said, hoping it wasn’t too far.

“Walking is about 2 hours, but we can take the subway and get there in half an hour, so it is best to do that.”

“Alright then, well, on the way, tell me what I need to know,” I said, excited, knowing that things were going back on track.

As we headed to the building, Ray explained their thoughts. It would be the world's first paranormal investigation and elimination company.

They were still working on the technology, and they had even posted a job for a secretary since they wanted to hire me as more of a lab assistant and fellow worker instead of desk work since they saw how useful I was in the field with all the different checks.

Just my luck, a job as a secretary would have been great since I would never have to go against something that terrified me. I figured fieldwork would be better for understanding precisely what Being X was, so it was something I was okay with it.

I asked if Egon had made any progress on the ectoplasm I collected. Ray said it seemed to have an exciting reaction to certain things, but he was still working on it.

The equipment was more interesting as they were working on how it would work and getting the actual calculations figured out since Egon had only figured they would be able to capture but needed to figure out the actual abilities of the possible technologies and build the actual things along with make it portable.

It would be quite the feat since, normally, something like this would require more development time.

However, since they still had money, they would need to do this while they could and were still getting some money from the university in severance pay due to firing them as tenured professors.

That led to me learning that they needed me to help with the massive amount of paperwork and some of the basic calculations for the technology that needed to be done.

They were also clearing the building before more professional contractors came in to do the more important things, like fixing the power structures since the building was old and couldn’t handle the current expected power needs for their business.

There was also the paperwork for patents since this was all new technology. They wanted to keep the rights to the technology that could lead to the more significant technology they were developing.

Some weren’t prototypes but simple ideas that either Ray or Egon had come up with. There was also the making of the outfits needed to do the job, and they weren’t good with needles, so a tailor was making the outfits, and they wanted me to get them since they needed to get everything set up.

Eventually, we got to the building Ray told me about. The building in question was an old fire station needing serious repairs. When I asked why this building, Ray said he liked the idea of a first response station so they would be closer to service since he saw that they were helping people and hoped it could be a worldwide service.

Apparently, Peter wanted it to remain private since it would “make them rich beyond their wildest dreams with the franchise rights alone,” Ray seemed to quote. The interior was worse than the outside, with spiderwebs, wood, and furniture everywhere.

It wasn’t till I got upstairs that I saw where Peter and Egon were around several tables.

They put together filling paperwork and tinkering with tools drawing schematics, occasionally getting up to measure something or pulling out a calculator to figure things out along with pages from catalogs trying to figure the best looking along with the cheapest option.

Peter seemed focused on the money, with Egon on designing and figuring out the lab side of things. After a moment, Ray got their attention since they were so focused that they didn’t even notice us.

Almost immediately, I was at the table helping Peter find ways to cut costs and helping Egon with calculations while helping Ray fill out patents for the things Egon theorized about ten seconds before we had entered.

It was a well-run working system with the main things being worked on by the best qualified and me helping each of them. We worked on prep work until the afternoon of the next day when Peter realized we had to interview a possible secretary.

“Well, we can't do it here. This place is still a mess, and the last thing we want to do is seem too desperate,” I said, hoping they planned for this.

“But we are desperate,” Peter responded, downing a cup of coffee with tired clearly on his face.

“I know, but we don't want them to run screaming for the hills since you bought the building yesterday.” I retorted,

“Well, how about we have her meet us here, but we take her to a coffee place,” Peter responded.

“I guess when will she get here,” I asked, hoping we had time for a nap. Even though my past life was used to too little to no sleep, this one was still getting used to the lack of it.

“About thirty minutes, I think,” Peter said just as Ray’s head smacked the table out cold.

“Please tell me we have a clock that can go off in thirty minutes,” I asked.

“Sorta, Egon, thirty minutes now.” Peter also fell backward asleep.

“Got it,” Egon said, still working on a slender thing.

“Alright then. See you all in thirty minutes” I then walked to a mattress that wasn’t too bad and fell asleep.

Sure enough, after 25 minutes, Egon woke everyone up, and we got ready for the interview. Once we were good, we stood by the door waiting for a knock, and we didn’t have to wait long since the second it was 12:30, we heard a knock.

Peter was the first one out doing the normal greeting and making sure it was the person, and once that was wrapped up, we each got out and shook hands with the interviewee.

“Janine Melnitz I’d like to meet Dr. Ray Stantz, Dr. Egon Spengler and Tanya Degurechaff.” Peter said with each of us shaking hands with Janine.

“Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll head to a coffee shop near here since the office is under construction,” Peter said with his hand in the direction he wanted to go.

“No, need I accept the job! I’ll see you all on Monday, but here’s my resume anyway so you know not to screw me with the pay,” Janine said without hesitation, handing Egon her resume.

“But we haven’t even offered the job to you,” Peter said in surprise.

“Yeah, I know, but I also know you are desperate since you were waiting outside the door for me and wanted to interview in a coffee shop. Don’t try to deny it, Dr. Venkman. I’ve turned down better jobs than this, but please have the place decent by Monday,” With that, she walked away.

“I like her,” I said as the men stared in disbelief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sure enough, Janine was on time on Monday morning and almost instantly got things in order. The contractors also came in around the same time and began fixing the place up, removing the trash and stuff left by the previous tenant.

Janine was not only able to get the ideas Egon had for the lab properly done by the contractors but was on the phone getting ads and even got us the stuff to make a commercial.

Peter was thrilled by the idea of him being on television but quickly became sour when he realized that it would be him and the other two talking about the business and not a chance for him to hit on girls.

They asked if I wanted to be in the commercial, but I promptly declined since I figured that having a teenager would ruin the perception of the seriousness. I had them take a few more since their acting was horrible.

The rest of the month involved setting up the technology and preparing the final products. The first device that Egon said was ready was the Ecto/Para Goggles or whatever name Egon was calling them at the time, never deciding on a name for them.

The goggles were linked with the P.K.E. meter and used to find ghosts that possessed objects. It could also outline ghosts through walls, but only in theory. The goggles could only see as far as the P.K.E. meter could scan.

They would be helpful for jobs in smaller areas with ghosts that wanted to be more defensive and hide than those that were more aggressive and open about their hauntings. The trap was also being made at the same time as the containment unit in the basement.

From what was explained to me, in theory, when the traps open, it spits out electronic protonic particles to hit the electrons, displacing them from the matter of the ghost and replacing it with something called a Pion particle.

The Pion Particle decays into a Muon that will replace the Electron particles and weigh the ghost into the trap where it remains due to it being like a Penning trap and holding onto the main manifestation and removing and expells the excess P.K.E..

When it detects the ghost in the device, it will have a blinker go off, signaling it is secured. The issue lies in since the trap expells first to weigh the ghost, it means opening the trap that has a ghost will spit it out if not adequately contained in the Ecto containment system.

The ecto containment system took up most of the basement since the actual holding was behind the wall Egon had built, acting more like a ghost trap with an additional area that would be like a giant fan pushing all ghosts into the main containment area that was protected by different laser grids that would break connections of the atomic bond of the ghost.

While ghosts could do it, it would weaken the ghost and be pushed back into the primary containment area along with reduced P.K.E, making it difficult for a spirit to escape.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday was interesting since it was about the afternoon when I realized I couldn’t find Ray. I asked Egon and Jeanine, but they told me to ask Peter. I went outside to see Peter talking to the contractors.

“Hey, Peter, where is Ray? I need him to sign a few things.” I asked, hoping he would tell me something like he went to get lunch.

“I think he said he was probably getting a car or something big. Do you think people will see the sign?”

“Sorry, we let Ray do what! We let the car guy buy a car with no supervision.” I asked, hoping the realization would dawn on him.

“You don't think it's too subtle, Marty? You don't think people are going to drive down and not see the sign?” Peter said, clearly not listening to what I had said.

Just then, I heard a siren going off to see an old blue hearse come towards us slowing to park in front of the doors to the firehouse.

“You can't park that here!” Peter said, walking to the car and looking in to see who it was as the car parked there.

Ray then stepped out, excited about his Prize.

“Everybody can relax. I found the car!” he then leaned on the hood. “Needs some suspension work; and shocks, and brakes, brake pads, lining, steering box, transmission, rear end -” he continued while Peter seemed repulsed by the car.
“How much?” Peter interrupted, allowing for fear of what the number would be.

“Only forty-eight hundred. And maybe new rings, also mufflers, a little wiring….” Ray responded, leaving Peter and me in a state of disbelief.

“Can you return it for something cheaper? What you’ve told us sounds like a hunk of junk. How you got it here is impressive.” I asked, hoping for good news.

“Don’t say that, Tanya. She’s sensitive. She needs some work and will be the best car.” Ray said defensively.

“As much as I hate to say it, kid, let him have this. He knows cars though you’re right. He will not be allowed to go shopping without supervision.” Peter said, defeated, like something similar had happened and he had not learned his lesson then.

“How about you help me with the car to find out what a true beauty it is,” Ray said, getting back in the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On Friday, I was under the car helping Ray re-screw in parts and the like, which was very different than trying to fix a tank with Captain Ahrens. Just back from submitting some patents, Peter walked by Janine’s desk.

Janine was reading some magazines now that the business side of things was in order, with the only thing lacking being the equipment needing tweaking, the car still being worked on, and customers. This left us to work on the equipment and technical aspects of getting set up. This left little for Janine to do.

“Janine! Any calls?” Peter asked to hope to do more since there was no one to communicate with, which is what he did best with.

“No,” Janine responded, more than likely knowing he just wanted to talk.

“Any messages?” Peter asked.

“No,”

“Any customers?”

“No, Dr. Venkman”

“It's a good job, isn't it? Type something, will you? We're paying you for this stuff!” Peter said in response,

“Don't stare at me. You got them bug eyes,” Peter said, walking into his office.

I began wheeling myself out from under the car when I heard this.

“Janine! Sorry about the bug eyes thing. I'll be in my office.” Peter then said.

I then wheeled myself back under the car.

“You're very handy. I can tell. I bet you like to read a lot, too.” Janine then said in a happier tone.

“Print is dead.” Egon then said as he went around the desk.

If those two didn’t end up, it would be a damn shame.

“Oh, that's very fascinating to me. I read a lot myself. Some people think I'm too intellectual, but I think it's a fabulous way to spend your spare time. I also play racquetball. Do you have any hobbies?” Janine asked to hope for a more interesting conversation.

“I collect spores, molds, and fungus,” Egon said before heading upstairs.

“I’ve seen it not as interesting as it sounds. Say we ought to play sometime, Janine. I never really got into sports.” I said, hoping to cheer her up from the apparent attempt.

“That’d be nice, Tanya,” Janine told me.

Then I heard a sound I hadn’t heard in a while. The door was opened, followed by the clicks of heels. As soon as the sound passed the car, sure enough, as I slid from under the car, there was a woman around 20-30 years of age and big fuzzy brown hair. She approached Janine’s desk, seeming hesitant if this was the right place.

“Oh. Excuse me. This, this is the Ghostbusters' office?” She asked,

“Yes, it is. Can I help you?” Janine replied, stopping her nail filing.

“I don't have an appointment. I'd like to talk to someone, please.” The woman responded, leading to Peter bolting straight up like a gopher before running and jumping over the gate into his office.

“I'm Peter Venkman. May I help you?” Peter said, getting closer and looking into the woman's eyes.

“Well, I don't know. What I'm about to say may sound a little unusual.” the woman said, backing up a little.

“Oh, that's all we get day in, day out around this place. Come into my office, Miss -”

“Barrett, Dana Barrett”

After that, Peter talked to Dana about what sort of issues and what they could do. Then he asked if she would be okay with telling us the whole story of her encounter. She, of course, agreed to do the interview but was not a fan when Egon tried to put pads on her temples.

She was quickly persuaded when Peter translated Ray’s explanation. Once she was hooked up, she began to explain what had transpired. She was heading home and putting up groceries when the eggs started cooking. She then heard a strange noise from her refrigerator. When she opened it, she saw a temple with animals growling.

“And this voice said "Zuul." And then I slammed the refrigerator door, and I left. That was two days ago, and I haven't been back to my apartment.” Dana concluded her story,

“Generally, you don't see that kind of behavior in a major appliance. What do you think it was?” Peter joked.

“Well, if I knew what it was, I wouldn't be here,” Dana snapped back.

“She’s got you there. besides, if people did know the things that go bump, why are we setting up a business.” I joked with Peter.

“Exactly. Also, aren’t you a bit young to be here… I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just kinda odd to see someone so young here?” Dana asked,

“Don’t worry about it. I get that all the time. I’m just a college student. I just look young.” I responded, hearing similar things.

“Oh, okay.”

“Right … Egon, what do you think,” Peter asked as Egon removed the pads from her temples.

“She's telling the truth. At least, she thinks she is.” Egon replied, forgetting he had a light on his head and shining a light into Peter's eyes.

“Well, of course, I'm telling the truth! Who would make up a story like that?” Dana said, sounding offended.

“Some are people who just want attention. Others, just nutballs who come in off the street.” Peter said, looking at Egon and Ray.

“You know what it could be? Past-life experience intruding on the present time.” Ray chimed in.

“That's not how past lives work. You just remember it as if you were waking up in your past life. You don't just get random flashbacks that bring a lot of questions about the difference between your past self and you.” I said, only realizing what I had said after I finished talking.

Ray and Egon stared at me with great interest while Peter and Dana just went along like I had said nothing.

“Could be something with daydreams too, or the unconscious mind too,” I said, trying to distract them.

“I'm sorry, I don't believe in any of those things,” Dana said as Peter went to her side,

“Well, that's all right. I don't, either. But there are some things we do. Standard procedures we carry out in a case like this which often bring us results.” Peter said, now moving behind her to her other side.

“Well, I could go down to the hall of records and check out the structural details in the building. Maybe the building itself has a history of psychic turbulence.” Ray said, finally distracted from what I had said.

“Right, go do that,” Peter said, waiting to give his assignment for the case.

“I could look for the name Zuul in the usual literature,” Egon announced.

“Spates Catalog?” Ray asked,

“Tobin's Spirit Guide,” Egon responded.

“Yeah, good idea,” Ray said.

“Tell you what. I'll take Miss Barrett back to her apartment and check her out - I'll go check out Miss Barrett's apartment, okay?” Peter stumbled, saying and hoping no one heard him.

“Okay, thank you,” Dana said, looking at Peter before heading out with Peter following her facepalming in his mistake.

Once they left, it was just Egon, Ray, and I., with the two wanting answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that, we began looking up this Zuul character. The issue was that some needed books had to be shipped, which would take a while. I miss the internet, and though the internet was around, it wasn’t as developed as it was in my first life and wouldn’t be for a few decades, but it was still closer than the last time.

After getting the things ready for research to begin and getting the last details of the car finished, we were finally ready to actually start the business side of capturing instead of just investigating.

Ray and I had gone out and gotten Chinese which I was okay with, but that led to an odd scenario of having difficulty with the chopsticks for a little bit since I hadn’t used one in a while now, preferring a simple fork.

Another example of how multiple lives will change habits, especially when 110 of those years are outside of your native culture. It was a moment of self-evaluation I’d never thought possible. About halfway through the silent meal, Peter broke the silence with a toast.

“To our first customer,” Peter said, raising his can of Budweiser.

“To our first and only customer,” Ray said, raising his can as well. We all clink our cans, with Egon and me with our Tab cans.

“I got to take out some petty cash. We should take her out to dinner. We don't want to lose her.” Peter said, looking at Ray.

“Uh, this magnificent feast here represents the last of the petty cash,” Ray said, pointing to the food. “Tanya paid for her food since it wasn’t enough.”

“Slow down. Chew your food.” Peter said after the realization hit him.“Savor the flavor.”

After that, we all went quiet since they savored the last cash they had given them. From below, I could hear Janine talking to someone, but nothing I could make out what the conversation was. Egon was now entirely focused on eating, finally distracted from working on his devices.

Then I heard Janine say, “We Got One!” before the alarm was set off.

Chapter Text

The bell began ringing, and we all looked up from our meals, processing what was happening. The bell meant that we had gotten a call. Even though I now knew ghosts were real or at least that there wasn’t anything I could think of to explain it, the fact that someone had actually called meant that other people had actually seen ghosts.

Looking at the faces of the others, I saw excitement from Dr. Stantz, confusion from Spengler, and irritability from Venkman since he more than likely realized he would have to do actual work.

“It's a call!” Stantz said, dropping his chopsticks and heading directly to the fire pole.

Venkman was heading to the fire pole but had picked up a box and was packing it to take with him on the drive to the location, even putting his chopsticks in his mouth. Spengler stood to straighten himself up, fixing his tie as he walked to the pole.

As the one sitting closest to the pole and with some of the swiftness from my last life seeming to kick in, I was first on the pole, sliding down using my arms wrapped around the pole to slow my descent.

When I got off the pole, I began putting on the jumpsuit we had made. It was similar to the flight suits I had in my previous life, so I was relatively quick putting it on. Stantz, after getting off the pole, seemed to have been disoriented by the decent Venkman, just casually walked to his locker while Spengler seemed to hate the pole with his discomfort clear as could be on his face.

Since I was the first one done putting on the outfit by tying the laces on the Vietnam-era boots, I began walking over to Janine to get the address of the location we were going to.

The Jumpsuit was a little big on me, but other than that, it was good for the work we would be doing since this would stop any of the ectoplasm I touched at the library from getting on our regular clothes.

The pistol belts were to hold other parts of our equipment, including some weird thing of wires and a computer board made from some old calculators we had lying around.

They only said it was the belt gizmo when asked what it did. There was also a holster for the P.K.E. meter, a key fob, and a walkie-talkie. While I miss having cell phones as I did in 2013, a walkie-talkie was still better than the phones I had in the Imperial Army.

Finally, the hose on the leg was for worst-case scenarios of either fright or inconvenience. Along with the elbow and knee pads, since ghosts could move physical items, the possibility they would throw people was considered, hence the pads.

“Have you seen my boots, Peter?” Stantz said, holding his boots.

“They're in your hands, Ray,” Venkman said casually while having issues with a sleeve as Spengler lost his balance and fell backward.

While they were getting dressed, I went to Janine to figure out where we were going for this first job.

“What's the job, Janine?” I asked.

“Sedgewick Hotel, a ghost is bothering the guests. Talk to J. M. Shupp. He’s the manager. Here’s the directions. I reckon it will take about 30 minutes to get there. It's on the other side of town.” Janine said, handing a clipboard.

“Thanks, Janine,” I said, taking the clipboard and checking to understand where we were heading.

I heard the car door open, and turning, I saw Spengler dumping a stack of traps in the back of the car.

“Should I be worried?” Janine said, looking around me.

“Maybe a bit,” I replied.

“Well, could you try to keep him alive for me?” Janine asked,

“Can't make any promises. I’m more worried he’ll blow up New York.” I joked.

“Egon, you’re driving,” Venkman said.

“Why can’t Ray drive?” Spengler said, closing the back door.

“Because Ray hit his goods putting the belt on,” Venkman said with a smile that he had just finished laughing.

“I still can’t, Peter. I need to check some calculations,” Spengler said, grabbing a clipboard from his locker.

“Alright, Tanya, you can drive, right? Course you can keys are by Janine's desk.” Venkman said, hopping into the passenger side.

“Guess I'm driving the car,” I said, grabbing the keys after setting down the clipboard.

“It's not a car. It's the Ectomobile,” Stantz said as he carefully climbed into the backseat.

I walked over and opened the left door for the car, the Ectomobile Janine had rushed over to open the other door. Once opened, I hopped onto the driver's side. Before getting in the car, Janine stopped Spengler, who handed the clipboard I left at her desk, before kissing Spengler on the cheek and closing the door. With everyone in and the doors open, I started the car, putting it into drive while Venkman turned on the lights and siren.

“Careful, Tanya, she’s a bit …” Stantz began saying as I tapped the gas, and we took off.

Touchy is what I think he was trying to say to me, and touchy the Ecto 1 was, luckily, I knew the first few streets to go through. But man, did the first turns become drifts. The second one was possibly the best drift I was able to pull off.

“Spengler gets your head out of the clouds and passes me the clipboard,” Venkman said, holding his hand for it.

“Sure thing.” Spengler handed the clipboard over.

“Would now be a good time to say I don’t have my license,” I Joked as I made another drift, going faster than I ought to, but hey, we got sirens, and it's midnight in a bright white car, Ectomobile with flashing blue and red lights.

“Certainly explains a lot of your driving. I think only Stantz could drive worse than you,” Venkman said, slapping Stantz’s arm.

“Nonsense, I bet I could go 120 MPH in downtown Chicago in the morning and be fine.” Stantz Protested.

“Oddly specific, Ray, something you did in the private sector.” Venkman Joked.

“Ray, according to my calculations, the ERM is widening,” Spengler said, looking up from the clipboard.

“Really, well, this is great, maybe not for reality, but still, it's great,” Stantz said, ignoring Venkman.

“Sorry, the what?” Venkman asked.

“The Cosmic eggroll, the wall between our reality and the ghost world. The main thing is we are going to be extremely busy.” Stantz said excitedly.

“Oh good, we need more. We are about out of cash, if I recall your words correctly,” Venkman said as he began opening the Chinese takeout from earlier.

While I should have been more frightened about the space between the two universes after dealing with them for a few months, this became the normal talk I expected. As long as they were excited, it was nothing to worry about.

About 20 minutes later, when Venkman had finished his food and was actually giving me directions without his mouth full, we had evidently made it. Still, it was close, just barely avoiding hitting a pedestrian as I parked the Ecto 1.

“Alright, wrap up your conversation about the spirit world, and let's get paid,” Venkman said. Getting out of the while, I turned the car off along with the lights and sirens.

I stepped out of the car and went to the back of the Ecto 1, where Venkman opened the trunk door and pulled out the gurney with the main equipment we would use, the Proton Pack. From what I was informed of, in the simplest terms, the proton pack would fire literal protons at a ghost, destabilizing the ghost's molecular structure and making the ghost easier to capture since anything hit with lots of protons is easier to deal with.

Venkman grabbed a pack and held it for me to strap in since it was an awkward thing to put on, not just because of the bulkiness of the pack but because of the weight. The weight of the packs was 50 pounds. It reminded me of my time in the Imperial Army, but I looked after myself and trained to carry 70 so I could still move around better. I still hoped Spengler or Stantz could condense things to a more sensible weight, especially with Venkman’s plan to turn the business into a franchise.

After getting my pack on, I helped Venkman put his pack on as Stantz and Spengler helped each other. After the packs were on our backs and strapped in and secured, Stantz grabbed his Ecto-Goggles. I also grabbed the other one. Since we would be going to the field for the first time, it would be better to go in with all the equipment available with the after-action report I was planning to write after this job.

I would determine what was better for me to carry personally. I, like Stantz, decided to carry a trap since knowing the total weight of what was to be expected to have would be ideal, and though being a subject was less than ideal, at least these scientists were not mad, crazy, devout, lunatics with no regard for safety.

After grabbing the rubber gloves, we headed to the hotel's main door. Though the weight wasn’t too much, I recalled the spell strength, wishing it would work. Surprisingly, the kit did become a little lighter, but not by much. My P.K.E. meter also started to detect something faintly.

The doormen were clearly surprised at the sight of us but still opened the door for us. Venkman, as always, was the first through, with the rest behind Spengler on Venkman's right with Stantz and I on his left.

“Hey, anybody seen a ghost?” Venkman announced before staring and smiling at a girl walking by.

Well, that's one way for us to make an introduction. Venkman was lucky that I was next to Stantz and not him, or he would have gotten a punch in the arm.

Just then, a sharp-dressed man spotted us, ran around Stantz and me, and began talking to Venkman.

“Thank you for coming so quickly! The guests are starting to ask questions, and I'm running out of excuses.” The man said who I was guessing to be Mr. Shupp, though when he began speaking because Venkman was distracted, he jumped a bit at the man.

“Has it happened before?” Stantz asked, taking the goggles off his belt.

“Well, most of the original staff knows about the twelfth floor; the disturbances, I mean. But it's been quiet for years! Up until two weeks ago. It was never, ever this bad, though!” Mr. Shupp Responded, rubbing his hands nervously. At the same time, Venkman put his arm around his shoulders.

“Did you ever report it to anyone?” Spengler asked, which raises the question of what did Spengler think they should report to. We’d only officially been in business for a few weeks.

“Heavens! No!” Mr. Shupp responded, sounding shocked and offended.

“Oh, no. You kidding?” Venkman sarcastically replied.

“The owners don't even like us to talk about it. I hope we can take care of this. Quietly! Tonight!” The Manager asked, seeming to be stressed about the whole thing.

“Yes, sir, don't worry. We handle this kind of thing all the time!” Stantz said, putting the goggles on his head. I also took it as the time to put mine on my head. The manager then left us at the elevators to handle the other parts of the hotel.

At the elevator, another man was waiting for it and was perplexed at the sight of us, which was natural, especially with the entrance we had. He looked at the pack and then at our uniforms before asking.

“What are you supposed to be, some kind of a cosmonaut?” he asked.

“No, we're exterminators. Someone saw a cockroach up on twelve.” Venkman responded, chuckling to himself.

“That's gotta be some cockroach.” The man said, eyes going wide at the thought.

“Bite your head off, man,” Venkman said in as serious a tone as he could muster.

The elevator opened, and a couple walked out but had their backs to the wall, staring in confusion.

“Going up?” Ray asked the gentleman before going in.

“I'll take the next one.” the man responded, putting a cigar to his lips.

In the elevator, I was in the back with Spengler with Stantz in front of me, who had Venkmn next to him. The back of the elevator had a no-smoking sign, which was fine since I didn’t want to be stuck with these three smoking, and while they did cut back, it didn’t mean they quit.

“You know, it just occurred to me we haven't had a completely successful test of this equipment,” Stantz said after a sigh.

“Sorry, what?” I asked, now confused.

“I blame myself,” Spengler said, sounding slightly defeated.

“So do I,” Venkman said jokingly.

“No sense worrying about it now,” Stantz said.

“Uh, no, there’s very much sense in worrying about it now.” I retorted, getting frustrated.

“Why worry, Tanya? Each of us is wearing an unlicensed nuclear accelerator on his back.

“It’s nuclear? All you told me was that it would throw protons. How did you even fit a nuclear accelerator into something this small? I know you two are smart, but you never tested it.” I yelled at them.

“It's fine. This isn’t the first time we’ve built something like this.” Stantz tried to explain calmly.

“Did any of them work?” I retorted.

“Not important. What is, is that it’s completely safe. Switch me on.” Stantz asked Spengler.

After a moment, Spengler turned the pack on, and a hum tone started rising in pitch before settling with a constant. Spengler immediately shrinks into the corner for me to pull him away from it.

“Oh, no, you don't get to hide away from it, I do,” I said, hiding in the corner myself, turning him to face me so that I wasn’t hiding from a nuclear accelerator with another nuclear accelerator. Sure, I was now aware I was strapped into one, but this calmed me after finding out.

After a moment, I was used to the pack being on, and since it hadn’t exploded, it was safe for now, at least. I take back everything about them being safe now. I understand that science involves risk, but this was comically stupid.

The elevator dinged with the door sliding open, allowing Stantz to be the first out, doing what I can only assume to be his attempt at doing a military sweep into the hallway. Venkman followed causally, walking past Stantz and continuing down the hall.

Spengler took his Neutrino wand out and waited to activate his until he was in the hallway. As the last out, I reached back until I grabbed the handle of the Neutrino wand, lifting it out but not turning it on quite yet since I was going to be careful now, knowing the Nuclear capabilities of the device. I would only activate it when I spotted a ghost.

We began walking around to an area where we could split even if the other guys didn’t know what was best. I thought the best was first to sweep this floor and then move on by leaving two on this floor while the rest …. Before I could even finish concocting the plan I was forming, the others turned and were blasting something.

While turning to see what they were blasting, I activated the pack, hearing the hum of the pack, only to see them blasting at a poor maid cart. Stopping myself from joining, I took note of the pack's product.

When activated and guided by the Neutrino wand, the pack made a fluctuating orange beam move like a loose rope but still arrive at the intended target, a cart in this instance.

Surrounding the orange beam was a blue coiling beam that seemed to go toward the pack instead of out, but it could be a misdirection of the eyes since when they stopped hitting the cart and deactivated the stream, the blue followed with the orange to the end. The effects of the blast on the ends of what the stream had hit were burnt and on fire.

“Hold it,” Venkman was saying, trying to get Stantz and Spengler to stop. He went as far as holding his hands on both of their wands, pointing both down so it was no longer down the hallway.

After a moment, a little black woman crawled. From behind the cart, she was hiding behind.

“What the hell are you doing,” She said as she started to pick up the burnt pieces of toilet paper that had fallen off their cart, spraying them with a cleaner fluid.

Venkman, Spengler, and Stantz began apologizing for it when I interrupted them.

“We’re on an extermination contract, and some of the equipment is a bit touchy,” I said, hoping to avoid a lawsuit.

“We thought you were someone else,” Venkman said, turning around with the rest of us so as not to feel guilty.

“I’d call that a successful test.” Venkman joked.

“Well, considering we haven’t hit a ghost yet, let's not jump to a conclusion. While we’re at it, don’t apologize for things we clearly did. We are broke as is. The last thing we need is a lawsuit.” I told them sternly,

“Okay, but that's going to be difficult. Let's split up for now.” Stantz said, a bit worried about losing what he had just gained.

“Yeah, we can do more damage that way,” Venkman joked, leading to me punching him in the arm. “Alright, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, you’re killing me smalls,” This also led to another small punch in the shoulder.

Stantz took the twelfth floor with Venkman on the ninth, I on the sixth, and Spengler on the third floor. Though the primary disturbances were on the twelfth, there was a chance the ghost could go to any floor. We hadn’t quite figured out ghost movement patterns or the theory behind them. The best we had was some reports stating that they followed the path of their past lives either daily or on their last day alive.

There was the thought that those who did were lower-level ghosts and, thus, most likely would not be what was described since they would not interact with the physical world. The description also did not detail human characteristics. So, determining its level was difficult until any of us observed it.

Most likely, Stantz would encounter the ghost first and hopefully begin to destabilize the spirit for it to flee, in which case it would encounter Venkman, having not the time to gather more energy to stabilize, would continue to be beaten until it ran from Venkman, leading to me doing the same as Venkman in which case the ghost should be an easy capture. I noticed a small but noticeable spike as I scanned the floor for any Psychokentic energy.

Seeing this as the first opportunity to test myself with the P.K.E. meter without the prying eyes of Spengler and Stantz, I decided to test a few theories about my effect on the P.K.E. meter and what was going on. First, I turned off the mode Spengler had installed on the meter to avoid asking the undeniable question about my little spike from the first time I met the doctors.

Upon deactivation, the small spike that was there before suddenly shot up considerably. Noticing this, I focused on the weight of my pack and felt it getting heavier while the meter calmed down, steadily dropping. I then focused on the weight again until it felt like I was wearing a normal school bag, causing the meter to spike.

This confirmed my theory about Mana. In my previous life, I was cursed with an above-average amount of mana that was amplified by Being X. Clearly, I seemed to have retained some of the magic from it, hence why I could increase or decrease the weight of my pack, but it was different I was mentally doing the amount to lift a building to lighten my load.

Was this due to me not retaining the amount I had in my previous life? If that was considered normal, then how come no one can fly? Does anyone else have this ability, or is it just me and what of the feeling of the slime from the library? This is something different, I’m sure of it. It feels too different. Is the spells I’m casting, or is it a subconscious thing I control with the illusion of spell casting?

“Arrrgggghhhh,” The radio projected, snapping me back to the situation.

I turned the Tanya mode back on and made a beeline to the staircase, hearing a sort of demonic-like scratch or growling from multiple floors above. I looked down to see Spengler looking up as well. I grabbed the Radio on my belt and began giving orders.

“Egon, go to the first floor. I’m going to try to meet up with it to slow it, but I think it's going down the stairwell,” I blurted, heading up the stairs.

I heard a confirmation from Spengler. I unhooked the Wand from the pack and flicked it on hearing the hum signaling the activation. I stopped halfway to the seventh floor, pulled out a trap, and dangled it off so I could still trap it once I slowed it. I did the best knot without doing too much damage to the cable, and then I waited, watching, keeping an eye on the dangling of the chandelier in the stairwell.

Sure enough, I saw a green blob exit the ninth floor, belting something horrible. Seeing it, I activated the wand, sending the orange and blue stream first missing but later hitting the specter that roared in pain but continued its dissent. Noticing I was trying to avoid the chandelier, it dashed behind it. I stopped the stream before it hit, only hitting the walls and banister.

Quickly, it left from behind the chandelier, allowing for a clear shot. The shot hit, but the green blur grasped the stream and tugged against it, picking up speed. Even if only for a moment before releasing the stream, it pulled me over the banister. Focusing on the reaction spell did minor effects, but enough for me to grab the cable. I was swinging into the next floor.

The stream was broken, and I let go, luckily landing but slipping down the stairs with continued momentum. The ghost had escaped but was now slightly disabled, if only slightly. Personally, that reaction spell working was pure luck. It wasn’t as strong as it’d been last life, but enough for last-minute attempts. After a moment of lying on the stairs processing everything, I took the Radio and heard Stantz on the Radio.

“He got Slimed!” was all I could catch.

“That’s great, Ray, save some for me. Get down here right away. It just went into a ballroom!” Spengler said, “Also, check on Tanya.”

“Thanks, Egon. I am just on the sixth floor after falling from the seventh.” I said, grunting as I stood up.

“You what!” I heard all of them say.

“It's not that bad. I’ve fallen from higher and had fewer issues, though I’m taking the elevator. I’ll catch you at the ballroom,” I said tiredly.

With that, I walked back up to retrieve the trap and then to the elevator just in time to catch Venkman and Stantz in the elevator. As I walked in, Venkman was just covered in the slime, and it smelled awful.

“You know I don't pry with the weirder things you say, but I’m a little worried when you say falling from a seven-floor height is no big deal,” Venkman said, nudging me.

“You also know I didn’t immediately say you smelled like shit when I walked in the elevator,” I spat back.

“Alright, touchy subject,” Venkman said before smelling himself and then gagging.

We arrived at the ballroom, and Spengler was talking to the manager. When the manager saw us, specifically Venkman, he looked like he would faint. Taking this opportunity, we entered the ballroom, passing the sign for the Eastside Theatre Guild Midnight Buffet. As we all entered, Stantz turned around to the manager.

“ Okay, sir. If you and your staff will just wait out here, we'll take care of it.” Stantz said before closing the double doors with Spengler.

Once the doors were closed, we proceeded to lock them for no disturbances. Stantz turned around with a smile and placed the goggles over his eyes. I followed suit. To my surprise, the view included information such as radar and the level of P.K.E. in what I was looking at. Stantz looked at me, then seemed to look above me. Then, he looked down at the P.K.E. meter and flicked something on it. He then peered his head out the curtain between us and the door. I followed suit beneath him.

“There it is, on the ceiling,” Stantz whispered.

I looked around, saw a green mist, and followed it to the chandelier. It seemed to think the chandelier was safe since I tried to avoid any unnecessary damage to the hotel.

“That's the one that got me,” Venkman said as serious as I’d seen him in a while.

The specter was flying in circles around the top of the chandelier, making grunts. We walked through the curtain to different sides, facing the chandelier, being as quiet as possible.

“Alright, ready? Throw it!” Stantz said, causing all of us to activate, sending four streams to hit the chandelier. The green blob flew away before the first stream hit, causing the chandelier to receive the entire punishment. Sparks came off as the wiring lighting disconnected. Pops and cracks erupted from the glass shattering, and finally, the chain holding it up broke, causing the chandelier to crash down into the tables below in a bright collapse.

The ghost let out a howl. I then heard the sound of an attempted jiggle of the door behind me. Clearly, the manager worried after such a clear disaster. We all rush forward to see the fallen chandelier.

“I did that! I did that! That's my fault!” Stantz said apologetically.

“No, you didn’t. Remember our talk from before,” I said. “The ghost did this”

“It’s okay, Ray. The table broke the fall.” Venkman joked.

“There's something very important I forgot to tell you,” Spengler blurted out.

““What”” Venkman and I said at the same time in both fear and anticipation.

“Don’t cross the streams,” Spengler said warningily.

“Gonna need a bit more info on that,” I said.

“It would be bad,” Spengler responded.

“I'm fuzzy on the whole good-bad thing. What do you mean, bad?” Venkman asked, walking closer to Spengler.

“Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light,” Spengler warned.

“Total protonic reversal,” Stantz said with a realization.

“All right, that's bad, okay. Important safety tip, don't cross the streams. Thanks, Egon. All right. Ray, take the left, and Tanya, try to flank it with Ray. Egon, take the right,” Venkman said, pointing out the direction.

I wanted to ask Spengler and Stantz more questions on this, but we were in the middle of this thought, knowing that a simple fuck up could lead to what sounded like a slow and excruciating painful death. I’m glad it is a worse case, though, and not something that will be done on purpose.

I went with Stantz while Spengler took the right, and Venkman took the center as we walked to where the ghost went. The ghost was now downing bottles of wine. But seemed to forget that it could not retain the wine in the stomach; instead, it spilled wine everywhere.

“Okay, Ray. Give me one eye on the outside... Ray!” Venkman ordered, and Ray fired a stream at the ghost, causing it to spin uncontrollably away from the buffet section, with drinks destroying the table and the remaining bottles of wine.

“Egon,” Venkman shouted, making Spengler activate the stream, destroying the cake and food buffet table. The ghost, in a panic, went behind the Bar. Spengler tried to follow it and blasted the bar to oblivion. The ghost shot out from the bar but was undetected by Spengler and continued to blast the bar.

“Okay, all right, hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Whoa! Nice shooting, Tex!” Venkman said, finally making Spengler stop the stream.

Oddly enough, the ghost stopped like it was out of breath, and just as I tried blasting him again, Stantz put a hand on my neutrino wand, lowering it.

“The last throw took something out of him, but he's gonna move! I need some; I need some room to put the trap down. Give me some room.” Stantz said, motioning for us to move a table.

Spengler Venkman and I lifted and threw tables away from the center where Stantz wanted the trap. At this point, why not? The ballroom is already wrecked; what's a little more? Besides, this is still the cleanest fight I’ve been in. The roof is still on.

“We gotta get this in the clear!” Stantz said, readying the trap.

“Wait, wait! I always wanted to do this.” Venkman said, grabbing a tablecloth from one of the few undisturbed tables left and yanking it, causing all the silverware and plates to go everywhere.

“And the flowers are still standing!” Venkman exclaimed in excitement. Sure enough, it was the only thing still standing.

Stantz had successfully deployed the trap below the ghost.

“Okay, on my go signal. Spengler, I want a confinement stream from you. Okay? Go!” Spengler put a stream out leading to the stream wrapping around the ghost after Stantz said, making it realize what was happening and reacting by trying to struggle free.

“Okay, hold him up there. He's gonna move. Hold him up. Go!” Venkman fired, strengthening the capture stream by connecting but not crossing.

“Okay, Tanya, let's make sure he doesn’t slip away again,” Stantz commanded, making me activate the neutrino wand and sending out a stream guaranteeing we had him.

“It’s working, Ray,” Spengler said, seeming surprised his theory was actually happening.

“Start bringing him down. Start bringing him down. You got him. Don't cross the streams.” Stantz said, arms raised to react to new developments.

“Maybe now you'll never slime a guy with a Positron collider, huh?”Venkman said, then seemed to mumble something while looking at me. The ghost responded with a fart somehow.

“Venkman, shorten your stream! I don't want my face burned off!” Spengler shouted, struggling to hold it while lowering the stick and controlling the stream length. Venkman had to look at the controls to see what the hell he was doing.

“All right. I'm opening the trap now; don't look directly into the trap!” With Stantz announcing, he stepped on a pedal opening the trap.

“I looked at the trap, Ray,” Spengler said, looking directly at the trap. I couldn’t resist and snuck a peak. The trap had nothing wrong with it. It was just opened as it was when they were building it.

“Bring your streams off as soon as I close the trap. Get ready. I'm closing it now!” Stantz then stepped on the pedal with P.K.E. goggles on, looking to ensure all went well.

The trap came alive with multiple beams of light coming out so bright I looked away to avoid damage. The sound of beeps and technical sounds erupted from the source, and the room became dark once again after a moment. The trap was still there, and the ghost was gone.

A light near the front activated before a red light in the back started flashing and started beeping consistently. We all cautiously moved closer, wands at the ready. Spengler belt by the trap while Venkman nudged it with his foot where a few sparks and lightning bolts surrounded the trap to the sound of electrical crackle but remained closed.

“It's in there,” Spengler stated, looking up.

“Hey,” Venkman said, pointing the wand at the trap, not wanting to get slimed again.

“Well, that wasn't such a chore, now, was it?” Stantz said, putting his hand on his hips.

“Sure, Ray,” I said, looking at the destroyed ballroom, broken tables, obliterated bar, and the remains of what looked to be a very expensive chandler.

Ray picked up the trap that was now smoking, and we walked towards the door. Though I was concerned about the smoking trap, Stantz must’ve been able to read my expression and informed me that it was just the excess particles and energy of the ghost that was harmless and was not necessary to reform the ghost so that it wouldn’t reform.

Before I opened the door, Venkman stopped me and instead put his ear to the door, whispering that since it's the first job, they gotta make an entrance after the first successful job. After a moment, a smile came on Venkman, who unlocked and threw the doors open.

“We came, We saw, We kicked its ass.”

“Did you see it? What is it?” The manager said, walking back the closer Venkman got, only to almost trip when Stantz walked right up with the smoking trap.

“We got it,” Stantz said, holding it like one would a prize fish.

“What is it? Will there be any more of them?” The Manager said in fear.

“Sir, what you have there is what we refer to as a focused, non-terminal repeating phantasm or a Class Five full roaming vapor. Real nasty one, too!” Stantz said after coughing from the smoke. Venkman then cleared his throat.

“Now, Let's talk seriously, now. For the entrapment, we're gonna have to ask you for four big ones. Four thousand dollars for that. But we are having a special this week on proton charging and storage of the beast, and that's only going to come to one thousand dollars, fortunately.” Venkman said, occasionally looking at Spengler, who had done the estimated cost of the simple trapping procedure.

“Five thousand dollars?” The manager said, in which case I spoke up.

“There is also the case of decontamination and dry cleaning for my colleague here as well as hazard pay since it tried pushing me off the seventh-floor staircase and damn well succeded until I caught myself, so that will be another thousand dollars,” I said looking at Spengler for an estimation.

“Six thousand dollars. I had no idea it would be so much. I won't pay it.” The manager said in utter shock and disgust at the amount.

“Well, that's all right! We can just put it right back in there. Though we’ll still charge you at least three thousand.” Venkman said, winking at me as he, Stantz, Spengler, and I all turned around.

“We certainly can, Dr. Venkman,” Stantz said.

“No, no, no, no! All right! I'll pay anything!” The manager practically begged, turning Stantz around.

“Thanks so much,” Venkman said, ripping the bill out and handing it to the manager.

“Thank you! Hope we can help you again! All right, coming through! Watch out! Class Five full roaming vapor! Watch out!” Stantz said to the manager before shooing people out of the way.

We all loaded up the Ecto one and got back in. This time Stantz was driving. On the way, Venkman turned around from the front.

“Good job, kid, that extra thousand should help us,” Venkman said, patting me on the head. This would have been nice, except his hand was covered in slime, and it was now in my hair. “Got you.” Still, it felt nice being a part of a group again.

Chapter Text

We arrived back at the Firehouse in high spirits. With the Ecto finally in, We got out. Venkman went to tell Janine how much the Sedgewick hotel owed us. Janine was not happy with Venkman. Partially because the paper was covered in slime and partially because of how much we charged compared to the amount she was paid. Spengler Stantz decided to put the ghost in the containment unit.

I figured with the way the night had been going. To be prepared for the inevitable disaster while also testing a theory I wanted to try since it could happen and one can never be too careful, especially with these mad scientists. I left the main door of the Firehouse slightly ajar, put the ghost trap in the gap, left the peddle as far as I could with the wire, and stood by it.

Sure enough, five minutes later, I heard a small explosion followed by the sound of yelling. A moment later, the Blob came upstairs, stopping by Spengler’s locker, swallowing his Twinkies, and holding a weird metal tube. I was now behind the Ecto, waiting for the ghost to go past, and if my theory were correct, even though we were in an entirely closed space, it would go through the open door.

I was proven correct as the ghost beamed to the door, only to be shocked as I activated the trap sucking the spirit back in the trap as it tried to fly away, reaching for anything and throwing the cylinder object at me. Eventually, the trap closed and did the same as in the hotel, and the light came on. Spengler and Stantz came running up the stairs, putting their packs on to see me holding the trap.

“I thought this might happen. I’ve already caught it again. What the hell happened.” I said annoyedly, “Also, what was this thing in your locker? It tried to throw it at me.”

“Did we ever tell you you are our favorite student?” Stantz said.

“That device is a prototype of a Protonic Grenade, And we don’t know what caused the containment to fail,” Spengler said, adjusting his glasses.

“Why do you have this in your Locker?” I said, surprised since I was holding what could be a little boy in my hand.

“How long will it take to fix the containment unit?” I asked, setting the trap and the grenade on the Ecto’s hood.

“Shouldn’t take that long, maybe a few hours,” Stantz said, picking the trap up.

“Good now,” I grabbed both of their ears and brought them down to my level. “You’re going to show me all the prototypes, and you are not to make anymore without my approval since I’m sick of having equipment that could kill me strapped to me and finding out afterward.”

““Argh, Yes, Ma’am”” They both said in pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that night, word spread quickly, and we got a few more calls daily. Some were nothing, others not. During this time, Janine started receiving calls about interviews and newspaper articles. We had even made the front cover. Luckily, the newspaper couldn’t get a picture in time and just used a photo from the advert, meaning no one was aware that I was part of the group, and that led to the focus being mainly on the guys.

This suited me fine. I prefer to lead a quiet life, and the last thing I wanted was to become famous. I like the idea of being in the background cast compared to the main cast. The way the guys were getting noticed increasingly led to me completing any errands needed. Though we started getting more and more calls, it was still manageable.

After my day on campus, I came back to complete chaos. That Thursday was nothing but runs and filling out sheets comparing strategies and ways to improve what we were doing, charting P.K.E levels, and going to the library to gather information on Zuul to find more details for our client, Dana Barret. In times like this, I miss Google from my first life.

On top of reorganizing everything and helping Janine where I could since we were swamped suddenly, rest was becoming increasingly sparse. Luckily, unlike in my previous life, good coffee was aplenty. The stress was getting to the guys. I am setting up the form for Spengler and Stantz to build new technology so I don’t accidentally hold a grenade that needs “work.”

I already turned the lab area to be the only place for prototypes beside behind the Firehouse instead of a locker or by the door. That is a lawsuit waiting to happen. Not only that, but some city violations. While learning more about the containment unit, I was told it was just as it was named, meaning it was entirely temporary.

It did not send the ghosts back to wherever they originated from. Asking more questions made me realize how relaxed they are with possibilities. I, on the other hand, am less so, so I told them to find a location to permanently house ghosts so if a situation happens, knowing the New York power grid system is not the best. I am so glad I caught this when I did.

This could have been an environmental violation, and the fewer government questions, the better for us. These guys are way too relaxed, tired, stressed, and overworked. I know something will go wrong, whether because of us or because we attempt to stop something, and the more precautions we take, the more complicated any case against us is.

We don’t need to win the cases to outlast the individuals who might attempt to sue us, but anything bigger than individuals will ruin us. The current location idea is somewhere west of the Mississippi River to lower the chance of outside interference and lack of populace cities. On top of the prototype form, I am helping Spengler map out all locations of hauntings to see if some areas have higher hauntings than others and to allow us to sell protection plans.

“I’m surprised there aren’t more in the Hell’s Kitchen area,” Venkman chuckled.

“The correlation of name does not always equal to reality. There are other reasons why it is called that,” Spengler said in his usual monotone voice.

“Then why do you think that no one from Wall Street has called?” Venkman said, throwing popcorn in the air in an arc into his mouth like a five-year-old.

“Because if we went there, they couldn’t get business done with no demons to sell their souls to,” I said, not looking up from my work.

“HA ha, he he he - argh help …” Venkman said as he fell back in his chair. He was dangerously leaning on. After falling, the popcorn landed in his mouth. “Caught it still.”

“How do you have a PhD?” I asked.

“Many wonder that question, mostly the Faculty Thesis committee,” Venkamn said, fixing his chair and continuing his little trick.

Just then, the alarm sounded. In the distance, I could hear Stantz awaken from the bedroom area.

“God Dammit, I just fell asleep!” Stantz groaned.

Stantz stumbles in with a bit of a thousand-yard stare that I’d seen all over the Rhine. He zips up his flight suit again, looking dead tired, while Venkman gets up and hands Stantz a cup of coffee that he proceeds to down despite it being a fresh pot. After a moment, he shakes his head and returns to his excited personality. On the other hand, I proceeded to lock up the cabinet with all the current prototypes so that the Firehouse remained intact when we returned.

Spengler needs to stay here to finish processing the data that has currently been gathered on the busts. This means we needed to ensure he got it done; otherwise, he might have an idea to start tinkering. I prefer that Stantz is near since he will stop Spengler from blowing up.

“Alright, I wonder what the specter is this time. Maybe a class 3, but more likely a class 2. Those are fairly common.” Stantz said as he slid down the pole.

“How does caffeine work that quick for him,” Venkman said as he descended the pole.

“Wish it worked that quick for me,” I said, pocketing the key and going down the pole.

After getting down the pole, I saw Venkman talking to Janine while Stantz had started checks on Ecto. I went over to help open the doors. After we opened the doors, Venkman picked up his step to help, just about throwing me in the Ecto.

“What the urgency, Peter? You’re never in a rush,” Stantz said.

“The customer is Tai Hong Lau’s Chinese restaurant,” Vennkman exclaimed as he pressed on the gas, launching Ecto out of the Firehouse.

“Okay, so why do we need to be in a rush?” Stantz asked.

“We are not just rushing; we will give them a good deal. The best damn deal we can,” Venkman said, making a sharp turn.

“But why the food was okay and came on time?” I asked.

“Because if we are fast and give a good deal, one of the closest restaurants will give us good deals for late-night jobs, and you never piss off old Chinese men; I made that mistake in the circus,” Venkman said, pulling up to the restaurant.

“You were in the circus. You gotta tell me about that. Did you do trapeze?” I asked, pointing fun at this situation since this is the first I’ve heard about Venkman’s life before academia.

“As soon as you tell us your story,” Venkman said in retort.

“Touche.”

We got out, put our packs on, and got ready to go upstairs and inside the restaurant. Inside was what is typically expected inside a Chinese restaurant. An old sign with barely legible words, not the best health and safety inspection, and a young girl working the register. When the girl saw us, she turned around.

“爸爸，捉鬼敢死队来了。” She said, making me wish it was a Japanese restaurant. I haven’t been able to speak Japanese in years, though at this point, I’m out of practice, and my current mouth can’t pronounce the words. I did practice writing, but it is hard to practice speaking correctly, leading to losing a part of who I was initially. At least, that’s how I felt. As I thought this, an old Chinese man walked out to the front.

“Ah, Ghostbusters perfect, come here.” The man said, motioning us over to him.

“What is the issue, Mr. Lau?” Venkman asked.

“It seems too fresh it bad it caused a weird creature to ruin my kitchen. Go fix it,” Lau said with a thick accent.

“No problem, we’ll get it taken care of as quickly as we can, but we suggest that you and your family go upstairs and let us know if it goes up there,” Venkman said reassuringly.

“Don’t take long. This is our busy time,” Lau said before speaking to his family to go upstairs.

After they left, we went into the kitchen as expected. The kitchen seemed empty, but something was amiss. It was a relatively small kitchen, with most of the space being filled by a small roll table and a tray-staking shelf, while other parts of the back consisted of a few old fridges and cooking stations. The floor was slippery, causing a few slips as we scanned the kitchen.

“So, any ideas on how to catch something in a space this small?” I asked.

While I was used to the strategy of urban conflict from the way Venkman was reacting to this particular case, the emphasis was not on damaging the restaurant, which had not been a priority in previous busts. Hence, the ideas of urban combat were useless since the importance was successfully capturing and not destroying the place.

This was ridiculous since, in my previous life, when the empire attempted to retake lands and lost, the decision to bomb a building was never debated as long as there were combatants. Even civilians had been expendable if a high enough target was present.

This is not a warzone, though the rules are different here. While the acceptance of services allows for the dismissal of any attempts to sue us in the event of damages, I made sure that Janine told customers this before confirming services and that it was a part of our newspaper ad campaign.

When USA Today wrote a story on our new business after the success of the Sedgwick Hotel, the acceptance that any damages experienced to capture a ghost is the fault of the owner and/or the one who seeks the services provided. I went over the contract made up for all customers and even had it looked over by my pre-law professor and other lawyers at the university, along with students and everyone I could, to make it as airtight as possible.

Hence, there is no real reason to be so cautious, but as much as I have helped, I was registered as an employee. I am not a founder and still have to follow child labor laws. Technically, I should not have been on the bus at the hotel, but this was the closest group I could consider friends. Hobbies are hard to discover, especially when you’ve tried almost everything.

Now, the others will listen to my input since I am considered a reasonable voice, and the amount that they let me set boundaries shows they need direction. However, they could easily override me if they wanted to go in a particular direction. My opinions are only good if they listen. I can do no more in this company. So, because Venkman wants this to be a clean job, I have no choice but to listen.

“Well, for a starter, we need to make some room. I can barely walk around here,” Stantz said before moving things around to clear the room.

After clearing the room, we continued to search with little results. Something was there but not concentrated. We even spread our search to the remainder of the restaurant with no results.

“Why can’t you find this ghost,” Venkan said in frustration.

“If I’m not mistaken, this is a possible animal spirit. Maybe it only responds to things that remind it of its demise,” I asked.

“Why, I believe that is correct, Tanya, gold star to you. Peter, let’s cook a meal or pretend to and see if that works.” Stantz said, filling me with pride.

Venkman and Stantz put their packs down and started prep cooking. Well, Stantz, at least Venkman, on the other hand, got pots and pans together and started drumming and slamming the oven doors. Stantz remembered a recipe his mother used to make, going through the motions and ordering, measuring imaginary food, and turning the stove on.

After a while, Venkman joined in, pretending to take orders and pretending to hit on an imaginary customer. I heard some bad pickup lines, but yikes. While they guys were playing pretend, I was scanning for any movements or changes. Sure enough, a Duck emerged after opening an oven to take out an imaginary souffle. It scared Stantz briefly, causing him to roll onto his back. The duck then started to waddle towards Stantz before standing on his chest. The duck was, well, a duck with a blue see-through tint.

“Quack,” it Quacked.

“This is incredible. It has no weight, yet I can feel it on my chest.” Stantz said, looking back and forth between me and the duck.

“Should I blast it?” I asked, turning my Pack on.

“No! I can’t imagine it being good for me, but it would be interesting to see what it does to Human flesh. I would prefer not for it to happen to me, and from our observation, it is not exactly the most accurate device.” Stantz said.

“Quack,” it quacked again.

“Well, we got to do something,” I responded.

“Throw the trap out, and when I scare it, I’ll run towards you, so when it chases me, it’ll run straight into it,” Stantz said calmly.

“QUACK!” the duck quacked as its eyes turned red while it flapped its wings aggressively, taking to the air and allowing Stantz to move away.

Suddenly, a goose, a pig, and some frogs exited the oven. Instinctually, I and Stantz ran into the dining room, where Venkman saw us running with a confused look. We ducked behind a table, looking behind, only to realize that only the geese were following us. Then, I realized I was the only one with my Pack since Venkman and Stantz left theirs in a kitchen.

I now have a new rule to add to the ongoing list of what to do in the field. The other issue was that the goose had the trap. If I blasted it, it could damage the trap and blow up, or who knows what? I got up and walked towards it since I figured it was a goose and a ghost. How difficult could it be? As I walked towards it, the goose hissed, but I just grabbed the damn thing out of its beak.

It bit me and started flapping its wings, hissing in an attempt to bite me again. I threw the trap to Venkman and ran around the table as it chased me, giving Stantz and Venkman to set it. I jumped over it, allowing them to activate the trap and capture the goose.

“Alright, one down, like nine to go. How do we trap them without possibly hurting the packs?” I asked.

“How about a roll,” Venkman said, grabbing one of the rolls he grabbed to play pretend.

Sure enough, we scattered crumbs on the top of the trap along with some roaches to attract the frogs. We gathered around the door to the kitchen and slid the trap in.

“This is so dumb. There is no way this is going to work.” I said, looking at Venkman.

“Just trust the process. Animals love bread even when they shouldn’t eat it. Venkman said then shushing me.

After a few minutes, the animals gathered around the trap. A frog tried to eat a Roach, but the roach fell straight through the frog and scampered away. Then, as the duck finally got close, Stantz pressed the peddle with his hand, activating the trap and causing a blinding light that was worse due to all the metal in the kitchen, but when the trap closed, it was done.

They were in, and the readings confirmed it. Mr. Lau came down, glad we didn’t destroy anything, and after a quick negotiation, as we were leaving, the New York Post seemed to see the car and offered to pay for a meal as long as they got an interview. Not one to turn down a free meal, we sat and ate, answering questions and explaining the current bust.

After a great meal, the Post paid and left while we finished. Mr. Lau, in appreciation, gave Stantz and me Chinese hats to wear. Then, as we were packing up, he came out with two roasted birds for us. We bowed, thanked, and returned to the Firehouse, ready for the next job.

Chapter Text

Following the bust at the Chinese restaurant, business continued to grow. As we make our way to the current call, I listen to the radio since it is best to hear what the media's fascination with us is continuing to be a mostly positive view of our business, not that bad press would necessarily hurt us since the people who are most like to call are those seeing the events of a paranormal encounter for themselves.

So, the view of the media on our business would matter little in the decision to call us to deal with the issue that they can see for themselves. It’s amazing how humans will always rely on their senses over what is being told to them. While it is possible to convince us humans that our senses are wrong, it takes considerable effort to convince us, and that only lasts until there is time for us to think.

It is times that Being X’s idea to have people worship with nothing to go on besides faith is ridiculous. Never in all of our business do we have to convince our customers that ghosts are real since they will use their own experience over anything we say.

The biggest issue is convincing clients that the ghost is truly gone, which is why the warranty sale is so popular since the idea that a ghost would show up again or another spirit would manifest in their residency since it had before without understanding that for those that live residence where the number of people to have likely to have died is considerably low in comparison to the Sedgewick since a hotel is often frequent of accidents, deaths, and medical emergencies.

The possibility that a residence would have more than one ghost depends entirely on location. New York has a considerably long history of violence, but in comparison to anywhere in the old world, where just about all locations would have at least one violent death. While I have been working with the guys to publish their findings soon, it is difficult since the paper is getting considerably longer.

With each bust, notes are being added at a rate that is increasingly worrisome since the longer that we don’t publish the paper, the likelihood that one of the few other parapsychologists in the world will have heard of what we have accomplished and be able to recreate our work but claim it. Luckily, Venkman has been on my side, pushing the completion of the paper.

Once we have established the first, we can start releasing the updates and continuation along with our patents. The tech can probably be studied to find all of the possibilities along with the effects the tech has on different fields. The main question is the effects on human biology. I want to know since I can feel that something is different with my connection to the ectoplasm compared to the feelings I have when in contact.

It reminds me of the mana from my previous life. I also seem to be regaining the spells that I had. Nothing truly useful but small spells or weaker versions, making the pack a little lighter, processing information quicker, or feeling warmer. I’ve also noticed that my P.K.E. scans fluctuate a bit more. Though it is always temporary and exhausts me more than ever, it is concerning since there should have been no way to bring it with biologically speaking anyway.

This body is new; it retains the information, but my senses learned in battle are dulled, and the traumas I had seem more like a movie I watched years ago. I recall the 203rd and my close allies, but my feelings for them have been disconnected. They are more like fictional characters. While I still feel bad for what happened to them, it's distant. I don’t think of them as often as I once did.

In my first life, I felt no emotion at all to it, even the man who pushed me. I don’t even hate or feel anything for him, yet I can recall the face he made, the rain and tears on him, and try as I might, I had no emotion for the 40 years of my first life, and my second is only that of a vague numb feeling. I guess that one philosopher was right that the current present will always be more real than the most vivid memory.

I thought I felt nothing in my first life because I did not express myself. Still, I know for a damn fact that I had a multitude of emotions in my second, proving that my lack of connection from my first has to do with the reincarnation process truly if I continue with this career after securing my soul's continuation with no memory similar in theory to the Gay Science that Nietchze proposed.

However, if I recall that theory, it was more of an idea that you repeat your life repeatedly without knowing so. However, it has been a long while since I’ve had a proper lecture on philosophy and how different philosophers thought of the afterlife. The reality of everything the only philosophers I enjoyed were that of economic philosophers, even the laughably nonsensical one of Karl Marx.

My thoughts returned to the presence when I heard Larry King’s voice on the radio.

“Some maintain these professional paranormal eliminators in New York are the cause of it all.” The radio said, causing Stantz to glance at everyone's reaction.

“Did you guys hear that Larry King is talking about us?” Stantz said, looking back at the road.

“Did you not hear the part where he suggested we were frauds, Ray?” Venkman said with a sigh.

“It doesn’t matter; every time we appear in any medium, our business gains significant value,” Spengler said, inputting more data into his charts.

“I think you’re just sour you don’t have your own radio show, Peter,” Stantz said, nudging Venkman, causing the ecto to swivel a little.

“Eyes on the road, Ray,” I said to Stantz.

“Surprised that you are talking about road safety since you drove without a license,” Venkman said, attempting to avoid Stantz’s comment.

“Not my fault that you guys keep forgetting I'm 14 years old.” I snapped back.

“In our defense, you don’t really act like any 14-year-olds we know,” Venkman replied.

“How many teenage girls do you guys know?” I asked, knowing there were very few good reasons that didn’t sound creepy.

“That sounds like a trap,” Venkman said with narrowed eyes.

“Well, how many do you know?” I press.

“Alright, we only know you, but I don’t recall any girl when I was that age knowing their way around tax laws and business structuring,” Venkman said, attempting to point out the oddness that is me.

“Everyone’s got hobbies,” I said with a chuckle.

“Still doesn’t explain why you didn’t have anyone else drive.” Venkman shot back.

“I sometimes forget that I'm also 14,” I said nonchalantly. You tend to forget your age after being alive in some shape or form for over 150 years. I still have three different birthdays memorized along with my current one, which gets confusing, leading to me panicking every time I have to fill out my birthday forms. Luckily, I was born roughly around the same time as my first life. So, if my year gets messed up a bit, it's not too bad, but putting 1914 on a form leads to great confusion for everyone.

“How on earth do you do that? Like when I was little, I always knew how old I was,” Venkman questioned me.

“My closest group of friends are in their 40s. How do you expect me to act.” I shot back.

“Hey, I’m only 34, thank you very much,” Venkman said, seemingly hurt.

The conversation continued as we headed to the job but ended when we arrived. The job was at the Rockefeller Center. According to what Jannine got on the phone, the ghost was on the ice in front of the golden statue. Sadly, though, due to the busyness of New York, we had to park a distance from it. The spot we got had a parking meter.

“Shit, how long will it take to deal with the bust?” Stantz asked.

“I don’t know. It could take a while, Egon. What is the average time,” I said, looking at Spengler.

“One of these days, I’m not gonna record some piece of data. Luckily, I know that. it takes about an hour for a bust on average, and it will more than likely take about 10 minutes to get from here to Rockefeller. That is both ways, so putting in for an hour and a half is best.” Spengler said, looking up from a clipboard and putting it into Ecto.

“Who’s got change?” Stantz looked up, looking around.

“I'm not even wearing pants under this, let alone a wallet,” Venkman said, putting his pack on.

“I have some tweezers, a sample tray with mold, and a screwdriver,” Spengler said with a hand in his pocket.

“I’m not wearing my coat,” I said.

“I think there's some change around Ecto,” Stantz said, opening the passenger door and looking through the seats.

“What type of screwdriver, Egon?” Venkman said looking at Spengler.

“A flathead, why?” Spengler asked, handing the screwdriver.

“I always hated doing this, but it's good in sticky situations,” Venkman said, leaning over the meter before standing up, showing an hour-and-a-half timer.

“That’ll work, but let's add the change anyway to the bill for compensation,” I said, finishing getting the pack on.

Sure enough, the walk to Rockefeller took about 5 minutes. Once we got down to the ice rink, we chatted with the staff, trying to figure out what was happening and that they knew we would be there. Apparently, a few years ago, an Olympic skater was practicing and just enjoying skating. They met with another person attempting to get to the Olympics, leading to both trying to out-show each other on the rink.

The issue was that there were still a bunch of others skating, making it difficult, and while attempting a risky move, she bumped into some, leading to them losing control and landing on their neck, killing them instantly. Recently, since the rink opened this year, she has returned, attempting to do the trick successfully, but has been pushing the public to make room no matter how far they are away, along with cutting girls with figure skating outfits with her.

They called us since it was a lawsuit waiting to happen, and they did not want to make the Ghost do it as a defense in court. They hadn’t yet because no one believed the girls' stories, and parents assumed it was because of the fall that would happen after the ghost cut them. We asked if they could close the rink due to the dangers of our work.

They agreed and got everyone off after about 20 minutes, though they still stayed around to watch “Ghostbusters,” which was the growing interest of New York to see for themselves. Sure enough, as everyone left, we saw the ghost in question. It was probably a Class 5 at most, but they could keep the look from their life with a few differences.

The skater's head was not standing up the way it should. It was like she was attempting to look up but went too far. Her head seemed to look more like a backpack. Her clothes were nice. She was in a skin-tight, glitter-infused outfit with a small little bit of a clear dress tail that sparkled like the Aurora borealis trailing behind. Then the skater spun, and her neck stretched out like a helicopter.

The neck stretched, seeming to tear as the weight of her head was breaking the limit of her skin, but as she ended her spin, the head continued and ended with her head in her chest and the neck retracted back, no longer seeming to tear off at any moment. From what I could see of her face, she was dolled up, and with the condition of her body, she most likely died near her 20s, whether before or after. I couldn’t tell.

She then did a turnaround, leading to her head swinging onto her back. If it were not for her head and neck, it would be memorizing to watch, but her tricks just looked wrong and disturbing to watch. I looked at the guys, hoping they could devise a good plan.

“What the plan?” Stantz said looking at Venkman.

“I just thought we could just go on the ice, throw the trap, and wait for her to skate into it,” Venkman said.

“But how do we make sure that she will go to the trap? She could avoid it,” Stantz said.

“We should have someone on the Ice then to lure her in.” As I said this, I could feel the guys looking at me.

“No!” I said, looking at them.

“But it makes the most sense. She was competing against another Olympian. So, to trigger the Psychokinetic memory, it will trigger a response leading to it being entirely focused on you, allowing for an easy flanking by us.” Stantz said.

“But I don’t even know how to skate,” I responded, which was a lie. One of the few dates I went on was a skating date and did pretty well. She taught me how to do some basic tricks.

“It's not difficult to keep your knees bent, make a T with your feet, and push off,” Venkman said.

“Well, if you know how to skate, why don’t you do it.” I snapped.

“It would be better if someone. That is close to the cause of death to enrage the ghost.” Spengler said.

“Okay, then Venkman could pretend to be the person that caused the accident. She pushes people to make room, so it would only stand to reason that someone like Peter would cause more anger by taking up space on her precious rink.” I said, hoping they would see reason.

“True, but that does not explain why the cuts of figure skating seem to be more personal,” Stantz said.

“But that means I would need a figure skating outfit,” I said, hoping there would be no way they could get one.

Venkman then turned his head to the staff and asked, “Got any figure skating outfits in her size?”

After a moment of the desk attendants looking me up and down, they said, “Yeah, I think we do in the lost and found there's a changing room over there.

“Yeah, no, to hell with that,” I said, walking to the rink.

“You’re no fun kid,” Venkman said, catching up to me.

“Here is my plan. We each take a corner, go over the boards, and then close the distance, trapping it in the center where Stantz throws the trap and captures it. If it tries to make a break, use a capture stream to stop it and keep it off of each of us to keep it trapped before the bust.” I said, pointing each to which corner they should go.

“How do you know that the ghost won’t try to fly over us,” Venkman said.

“Well, it seems to be repeating its same tricks,” I said.

“Meaning that the Ghost has Psychokenetic trauma making it think it can’t and with the closeness to its human form meaning its more of a whisper,” Stantz finished.

“You guys spend too much time with your nose in books,” Venkman muttered as we began to split to the corners.

“And you spend too little time,” I said.

We got to each of the corners and waited. I jumped over the board while it was halfway through the rink, meaning it shouldn’t noticed for a few moments. As I make it over, the guys make it over the board, and the ghost turns around and spots me. The skater stops, grabs its head from its chest, and lifts it up to look at me, where it gives a screeching warning of “NEED SPACE” before dropping its head back into its chest and then skating full speed towards me.

I fire the stream at the ice between it and me, melting and cracking it. The ghost turns to avoid the crack of water in the ice, allowing it to see where Venkman is and use its momentum to bolt toward Venkman. As it got closer, Spengler, Stantz, and I were inching closer toward the center, with me stepping over the water crack I made in the ice.

Venkman blasted the stream at its head, holding it while the body continued with it, turning its body, jumping, and attempting to cut Venkman with its ice skate blade, but the neck seemed to be at its limit and pulled the body back in the nick of time. Venkman cut the stream as it attempted to regain its momentum. It spins seeing Stantz and Spengler, who were getting very close to Venkamn and me. The ghost made a low turn, staying low as it sped up to Spengler before switching to Stantz.

“Stantz, Throw the trap when it gets close,” I shouted.

Stantz knowing what to do, threw the trap towards the ghost as it tried to swing its head at Spengler, and as its head swung over the trap, Stantz pressed the switch throwing open the trap and sucking it in the head instantly, but its body resisted.

“Zapp it!” Spengler said, throwing a stream on the ghost.

Venkman and I followed and threw it into the Trap. The trap closed as it steamed. I ran towards it and slid to pick it up. To verify the heat the trap produced wouldn’t melt the ice. The trap is still an active prototype, so it is best to be on the sign of caution with ice. With that, we headed off the ice to some happy staff and some conflicted watchers.

“Say, what time is it?” I asked as we passed the staff.

The staff told us the time, and we realized we had about 5 minutes to get to Ecto before we got a ticket. So we bolted out of there. I'm so glad I didn’t have to wear the outfit the staff had in the lost and found. It was a bright pink outfit with a frilly Tutu. This job is bad as is. I don’t even want to imagine if I agreed to such a stupid idea. However, I was glad about how well this bust went compared to the first one.

Chapter Text

Being a student and a ghostbuster had proven to be exhausting, though, since I was down to one class since they had removed the Parapsychology department entirely. It was late in the semester, which led to the odd way the University handled it by considering the classes as completed with the grades I had present, which, luckily, were all A's.

However, I believe that was due to Venkman being in charge of putting my grades into the system. There were some things I had difficulty understanding, such as the relation between psychokinetic energy and the multiversal reactions to the strengthening of the Big Bang or something like that. With a field that is so new and few verifiable sources, the materials were mostly speculative, with the oddest citation of someone citing someone in the future who will have a dream that will reveal the answer.

The part that got to me was that I believed it considering some of the dreams I had in my last life, though that was due to Being X, then it was some other thing the text was claiming. Since the University had me in a single class on Wednesday and did not refund me the money for the classes, they had me in a weird place where I was still considered a full-time student with the additional benefits of a part-time student.

The University had not removed an entire department mid-way through the semester, and as the only student, the whole system was having trouble fully defining what I was. Even then, I was almost done with my bachelor's degree, and I was on course to graduate in December, but the business was just now getting busy with calls going off at all hours of the day.

The only day I had off was Wednesday for class; even then, the second class was over. They were bugging me to get back as soon as possible, though, after one week, I told them to knock it off, which they did to allow me to do homework since any attempts to do it at the firehouse had been proven to be impossible with all the damn calls.

However, the fame had only exploded more as we entered week 2 of doing actual business, going from call to call and being followed by more and more people curious about the Ghostbusters. We even got calls about interviews and questions on everything ranging from diet, technology, and franchise opportunities. Though as much as we all agreed franchising was essential later on down the line, it was not in the cards currently.

The focus was to hire more help, and though we had put ads in the papers and other locations, not a single call was about the job opportunities.
As much as the guys seemed to enjoy busting ghosts, we were getting run-ragged. Janine also hoped someone would apply for the secretary position since she constantly got calls.

To help her, I would man the phones to give her time for her breaks. The amount of work we were all clocking in would be horrible if it were constant and would be mentally, physically, and possibly illegal. My presence is a jeopardy to the business. Still, the actual law is odd since, from everything I've read and asked about professors and my understanding of the law, I am not supposed to happen and have yet to be considered an option in the legal sense.

Though I often refer to it as an orphanage, the institute I grew up in was a boarding school. I did start in an orphanage, but I got moved to board school due to my academic prowess until I graduated from that and into Columbia University, which has placed me into an odd area of not being emancipated since I have not graduated but with no official guardian meaning that there is not someone to be emancipated from and with the orphanage giving me to a boarding school I did not have the orphanage to be from and though I am 14 I should only be working about 3 hours.

However, if that was the case, I should only be doing the phones since the busting would be too dangerous for someone my age. Still, since I am all but emancipated and since I am in college, this is technically an internship while also being a job. The whole thing needs to be clarified, leaving me trapped in the technicalities of bureaucracy. However, to be on the safe side of things, the best course of action I can think of now is to be adopted by one of the guys since it would then be me working in a family business and, therefore, allowed.

That brings me a new headache of which of the three I have be the legal guardian of me. Each of them would have its benefits and drawbacks. Venkman would be ideal because he would leave me alone with his focus on being a bachelor, and I would only be a pickup line for him regarding the issues of being a single dad. The drawback is that I would be left alone by him.

I don't benefit from it that much except for the occasional things like paperwork, and he doesn't seem to be the supporting type. Then there is Stantz, who would be the supportive type but most likely in the smothering type, and I value not being smothered, which would not be suitable for Stantz since I would come off as cold, and I do not think I want to put him through that emotional situation.

Finally, there is Spengler, but I'm not sure it is a good idea. I will need to discuss this with the three of them since there is a good possibility that there are factors in their lives that I do not know about due to our work-focused environment. It's best to wait till we have a calmer situation before I bring it up. However, the calls would need to be quiet to do so.

The calls we most recently have preferred are the talk shows since they allow us to rest and enjoy our newfound fame well more, so the guys are enjoying it. I tolerate the fame, but there are some benefits to it. The first television interview we agreed to do was the David Letterman show, with Venkman volunteering.

Still, I told them that it would be best to have at least two on the show since Letterman would ask questions that Venkman could not answer and that he couldn't re-direct all of the questions. So Spengler went with him to explain since Spengler could explain things in a way that confuses most. I did not watch the whole interview, but it was a good sign from what I had seen. Venkman was a natural at deflecting damaging information when Letterman had asked him.

"I'd imagine that dealing with ghosts regularly would lead to seeing terrifying spooks. What I'm trying to say is, what is the scariest thing you've seen since starting Ghostbusters?" A question that, while seemingly simple, could lead to disastrous results with hiring in our already nonexistent hiring process.

"Well, David, nothing has terrified me more than just before the show when I accidentally walked into Larry Bud Melman's dressing room," Venkman said, smiling afterward with the audience laughing. At the same time, David Letterman chuckled but was not satisfied with the response.

The interview would continue with the job seeming like a great opportunity by the end of it. Spengler could explain any and all questions Letterman had that answered the question, but it was confusing enough that people couldn't try to recreate our technology. Then Venkman brought up getting slimed. That is where we lost a lot of future employees.

While having an accurate idea of what a job entails, they should enter under an idealist view before the horror of what the actual job entails is exposed. A firefighter will expect to put out fires but doesn't realize that most of the job is EMS calls, and then it is fighting actual fires. However, that is for the firefighters combined into EMS rather than separate, but even then, there is little firefighting for most of them.

The sliming aspect of the job should be more like a surprise until we find out the adverse effects of ectoplasm on the human body and possibly the soul. Though the interview wasn't quite as perfect as I would have liked, it was satisfactory. A day after the Letterman interview, we got a call to attend the Joe Franklin show, which we accepted.

Stantz and I attended this time, though it was a bit of a risk since I had previously avoided being on any of the media inquiries and the advertisements. It would be inevitable that I would be known as one of this new business's founding members and the group's youngest. It would have to be discussed. The risk came from the possible immediate investigation of child labor laws and the mess that could come from it.

Still, if my role could be downplayed to be seen less as a founder and more as an interning college student, it would be seen less as a possible child labor case and just as a college student getting experience. On the beneficial side, if done correctly, the combination of Stantz and I could lead to possibly a younger demographic of people getting a job at the company, specifically college-age people.

The addition of my going is also to show that the new business is open to equal employment opportunities. While not as shocking as my previous life or that of my first, it is crucial to show to the public in the current changing times. When Stantz and I arrived to do the show, we both arrived wearing appropriate business attire, and though it was suggested by one of the producers that I change into a dress when we arrived, I promptly said no, and we continued.

We had to prepare for some light makeup to be seen on the television. Then, we are seated on the chair and couch just before the show begins. Joe Franklin sits behind his desk, checking everything he needs before turning to us, welcoming us, and finishing basic introductions before the light dimmed. The music started to play, letting us know the show was about to begin. As the music faded and the lights brightened, Joe started the show.

"Hello, friends. I want to start by saying we have an exciting line of people today. We have the author of a new book and some albums from a band visiting us in the studio, but first, we have you, dear viewer. I can't thank you enough for being here and now the talk of the town, the Ghostbusters. Is the first interview for the members present tonight, Dr. Raymond Stantz and Tanya Degurechaff? Am I saying that right?" Joe Franklin said, leaning closer to both Stantz and me.

"Yes, that is right, and yes, it is the first time we have done an interview," I said.

"Just Ray is fine," Stantz said.

"You know Ray, every time I hear of you, I can't help but think of that old Bob Hope movie," Joe Franklin said with a smile.

"Actually, Joe, the title of that film was called Ghostbreakers. Olsen and Johnson did Ghostcatchers, and the Bowery boys did Ghost Chasers, Hold That Ghost, Spooks Run Wild, Spook Busters, and Spook Chasers. Then there is that show in 1975 with the gorilla." Stantz said with a smile and a chance to show off the media knowledge that most likely inspired him.

"Well, in any case, there is one big question on everyone's mind, and you are both certainly in a position to answer it for us: Have you seen Elvis, and how is he?" Joe asked, leaving Stantz stunned for a moment.

"Well, I'm sad to say we have not run into Elvis yet, for his manifestation point would not be here in New York. His time here was short when compared to other places he visited in his life. So, while our study of how ghosts manifest and how they exist and operate is still new and has not had the opportunity or the time to test our theories on our hypothesis correctly, our current understanding is that Elvis would most likely manifest in his home in Tennesse since it was not only the location of his passing but it is also where many of his possessions are currently located." I said before realizing I probably should have phrased it better.

"Fascinating, so if I die here, you're saying I could continue the show for at least a few more seasons," Jeff said with a chuckle.

"Theoretically, but if that's what you want to do with your afterlife, that's up to you," I responded.

After that, the rest of the interview went alright. A few questions about my age eventually came up, but I believe I handled it correctly. The rest was on the business, how it came to be, and how our job works. We even brought some of our equipment for Joe to try on with our guidance and turned it off for his safety and that of the crew working the set. It seemed pretty popular with Joe, but nothing too exciting came about.

The unfortunate effect of appearing on late-night television and being known as the girl associated with the new company was not made known until Wednesday on my day off from the job, when I attended class. Since I started doing the side business of ghostbusting, my time in the dorms has been nearly nonexistent since I would do all of my classwork in the dorm only after leaving the firehouse.

All homework that needed to be done was done as soon as class was over, and any work I had not done by the time I returned to the firehouse was either taken with me or left at the dorm for when I returned Tuesday night and was completed before class began. So, as I left my dorm that Wednesday morning to get my morning coffee, I found my fellow students staring at me.

However, it has more to do with my outfit since I was exhausted; I had not changed out of my flight suit and boots. I do plan on changing, but my priority was coffee. In line, I noticed people were staring, which was fine. Sure, you see students in odd outfits, so this was expected, but it should only be a simple glance, not long awkward stares.

Not even the ROTC students got this many stares on uniform days. Though that was most likely due to repeated exposure, the stares were still evident. While ordering my coffee, the barista started asking me questions about the job, which I didn't mind answering but was short, sweet, and to the point, with the conversation ending when they handed my coffee to me.

After I got my coffee and began walking away, a girl stood before me and nervously held a magazine and a marker before asking for my autograph and if I could make it out to her. After realizing the request, I took a deep breath and contemplated what to do.

On the one hand, I don't like signing things that I don't have to sign since they could be used to forge documents I did not read or agree to, but this is an excellent opportunity for public relations. For some, this is a desired collectible to have celebrities sign things. Why someone would want a Ghostbusters signature does not make sense to me since we are just doing the equivalent of capturing pests.

The pests are just ghosts, but it is still weird to desire my signature. After breathing out my held breath, I said sure as I took the marker, handed my coffee, and took the magazine with the promotional photos we did on the cover of Time magazine called The Supernatural Success Story.

I indicated for her to turn around where I leaned the magazine on her shoulder and signed my name with the addition of a circle crossed out but added a lowercase T on the top, followed by adding the tagline from the commercial that the guys did of "Who Who Gonna Call" followed by her name. Then I tapped her shoulder to have her turn around, and I handed her the magazine and marker as she handed me my coffee.

She asks some routine questions that I suspect are normal, like "What are ghosts like?" and "What is the scariest thing you've seen?" and other such questions I answer but mostly just try to get away, and after a moment, she leaves. Then I realize I have walked into a trap. Damn, this new body's lack of instinct.

I am suddenly swarmed by a massive group of college students asking for Autographs, photos, and questions, Whether it's an engineering student asking how the tech works or girls asking about the guys. Philosophy students are trying to debate the morality of capturing ghosts, the unintended consequences of proving one philosopher over another, and something about ruining Socrates's next step in understanding the reality of life or something like that.

I would run, but it happened too soon, and I was surrounded. After an hour of signing autographs and answering questions, a gap opened, and I could escape long enough to prepare for class. Instead of my usal early arrival, I was only on time to class. Class, for the most part, was calm since the professor did not allow for any change in subject during class.

After, though, I had to dash out quickly as I noticed students walking towards me since I sat in my regular unassigned spot of the front row on the farthest right. Still, the door was on the left, so when students on the left walked from the door and the professor, I knew it was not a coincidence since the professor was close to the door. After making it back to my dorm, I finished my work for the class.

Luckily, the professor did not assign homework, so I refreshed the information discussed during class and the required reading. After waking up, I had to sneak out of my dorm since I suspected that I might be mobbed again. With Wednesday over, I had to go back to the firehouse.

After returning, we would be swamped with back-to-back calls, even prioritizing quicker jobs and Janine creating a job board of jobs to do and the week's schedule. Unlike EMS and firefighting, the benefit of this being a non-emergency service was that we had time to do jobs, but we were always packed going from one job to the next.

We stuck to always doing two manned teams since the disasters of separating were evident with the Sedgwick and attempting to figure out what needed to be done during a bust to maximize safety and productivity. This led to us becoming increasingly tired with every moment, either working on the job or writing after-bust reports with the occasional investigation into Dana Barrett's case about Zuul.

We have found information that Zuul was the servant of a Sumerian god, Gozer. Stantz Spengler and I were presently focusing on the connection between Gozer and her apartment building since the idea that a Sumerian god's servant was chilling in a random lady's fridge in New York just makes no sense at one point we theorized she might have an artifact.

Still, after talking to Venkman about her apartment and the reading, he found that idea was shot down since if it were because of an artifact, there would be some sort of reading. Still, there was none in the data, and even if it was an artifact, why was it in the fridge instead of where the theoretical artifact was? The investigation into the fridge indicated that at no point in the design creation, production, or shipping would allow for any reasonable connection.

All theories are currently on the building and possibly the designer or builders. However, looking into a random apartment building in New York to see if it has a connection relating to the case has turned up very little. The stress of both class and the job the investigation was starting to get to everyone. We needed a rest after slamming a combined 20 ghost busts. Just as I laid my head down and began drifting off to sleep, the alarm went off, sending me flying down the pole in a rush that I could not recall from lying in bed to now in the Ecto.

"Could someone tell me where we are heading? I kinda spaced out for a moment there." I said after snapping back to reality.

"Damn, kid, and I thought I was out of it," Venkman said with his arm over the seat to look at Spengler and me in the back.

"We are going to the Rose. We usually would have called it a night by now, but this was described as an emergency. It seems our ghost has captured some people and is holding them hostage." Spengler said.

"Wait, the Rose, as in the nightclub," I asked.

"Brings a new meaning of dancing till you drop," Stantz said, turning around for a bit.

"Road," I yelled as he looked back. We sped through a red light. "How have we not gotten ticketed yet?"

After parking, we went to the front of the nightclub, where we met a man in his early 20s with a popped blue shirt collar, a pink tie, and a dark grey suit jacket who was pacing in front of the doors.

"Thank god you got here. I just woke up after something knocked me out, and I couldn't get in, which I knew had to be something since I have a key and it wouldn't work. I think the line rushed in and is trapped. Please, this situation is not up to code. This is a lawsuit waiting to happen." He sputted out while Venkman walked over to the doors, and a single pull shook his head.

"Tanya, would you please?" Venkman said as we walked away from the door, and Stantz moved the guy away from my line of fire.

While I blasted the door, Stantz explained to the now-mortified guy, "Don't worry, this is just a quick pulse of positively charged protons applied to the negative Spectrum Psychokinetic Energy barrier sealing the door."

"Just feel glad Egon hasn't finished the grenades yet." Venkman snarked.

We heard music from the distance as we walked into the club. It was newer music that I didn't recognize since my taste in music has been forever screwed up my lifetimes.

"Say music is still going. What is that new wave? Glam? I don't keep up with music." Venkman asked, "Ray?"

"I only know the Blues," Stantz answered.

"It's Prince. These readings are not good guys." Spengler said to everyone's surprise.

"When are any readings good, Egon?" I asked.

"Well, it's best to be wary. We still don't have a firm …" Stantz said before something over the balcony stopped him in his tracks, causing all of us to look over the edge.

The main dance floor contained what looked to be a massive crowd of people dancing, but closer inspection showed that all were floating in the air. After reaching the dance floor, the dancers were anywhere from a few feet to 15 feet in the air.

"Not going to lie, I think this is the most impressive thing I've seen a ghost do so far," I said, watching the crowd dance.

"Not to mention, this impressive feat is made more so with the sophisticated Teleckintic activity required. It requires unprecedented control to pull off." Spengler said, pushing his glasses up.

"I'll say. I spot at least 11 different dances ranging from the Swing, the twist, the bird, the fly, foxtrot, the hustle, the …" Stantz listed off as he began to hover above us, "Guys, it got me, help."

Sure enough, Stantz, while in the air, began to dance moves that would make John Travolta proud. Noticing this without looking at each other and possibly due to our tired and stressed state, we started giggling.

"I hear you guys laughing. Just catch the thing." Stantz yelled as he changed his dancing to go to the Jerk.

"Say, why didn't it take us?" I asked

"Yeah, do we just lack rhythm?" Venkman continued my question.

"First, that's not the case. I dance like a god, but if I were to guess, I would assume Ray's knowledge of dances attracted the ghost to his presence," Spengler answered.

"If we remove the music, the ghost will reveal itself," I asked.

"One way to find out," Venkman said before blasting the DJ's booth.

The booth exploded but then stopped and put itself together and continued playing. The dancers and Stantz then started doing a kickline with kicks that Stantz should not have done without stretching first.

"Well, that didn't work," Venkman said disappointedly.

"What did I say about needless destruction of property? We could've just tried turning it off." I yelled at him, "We can't just hope that everything we destroy the ghost will fix."

"Eh, it's more fun that way. Since that didn't work, maybe Egon should challenge it to a dance contest." Venkman shrugged.

After a moment, Spengler sighed before beginning to dance. The dancing was impressive, but it was missing something.

"Have you thought of adding some of these? Egon might make it more intimidating," I said before dancing with the skill learned from a few dance classes I took in the past.

Eventually, the dance that Spengler and I were doing was working, though a bit sluggish due to the packs on our backs along with our equipment, but with some assistance of what I assumed was the remaining magic, I was reborn with my dancing was refined since the weight wasn't slowing me down.

The ghost finally decided to appear as the other dancers floating approve turned into a conga line. The ghost was that of a guy in a bright tracksuit with spiked hair and a headband. The ghost attempted to out-dance us, providing the target to focus on. During a twirl in the dance, I was able to send the trap out, and with a spin with Spengler, we both pulled the neutrino wands out of the pack.

"Now," I shouted as we blasted the ghost, and with a slide to the right, we opened the trap on the ghost.

Knowing it was defeated both on the dance floor and being trapped, the ghost pulled a few moves before the trap closed.

After a moment, the dancers in the air began to fall. After a loud thud, the dancers started to stand up individually. After another moment, they began to cheer and start the party again. Though we were all stressed and tired, we needed an outlet, so after putting the equipment in the car, we joined them and danced the night away.

Chapter Text

It has now been two weeks of this personal Rhine front of busting, busting, and more busting. While I was used to this workload in my previous life, sleep was rarer than a warm meal. Though my spirit was used to it, the only preparation this particular body had was late-night studying. However, it was still better than the guys' night routine since it had been a while since they were studying.

As professors, they had considerably more than their previous colleagues since I was their only student. Overall, everyone was beyond tired and needed a break, which is where the other benefit of being younger than the rest allowed me a full day of rest and relaxation with my classes whenever I wasn’t getting chased by my classmates and a few of the professors of the university on how everything works.

The other guys were not faring well except for Egon, who was thriving more than usual. The search for Dana Barret's ghost had started yielding some results. After finding Zuul in Tobin’s Spirit Guide, while searching for basic-level information, we, as good scientists/historians, needed to find more details about the demigod who followed Gozer, whoever that is.

What little we could gather from the books present at the fire station could have given a better picture. So, during the past two weeks, we began finding any reference we could while busting and attending class. I started by asking all the professors in the history and archaeology departments with no results since they kept referring to other gods of Sumerian and Hittites, either close to the name or description from the spirit guide.

Then, I searched the college text archive, checking the index to see if Zuul or Gozer was in the text of ancient civilization, with no luck. We then checked with the New York Public Library with no luck and no sign of the Library ghost either. We then called several libraries across the world and museums with any idea of the information. From the ones that called back, there was no such luck.

This confused us, and it confused Ray the most since if Tobin had it, it should exist; otherwise, where did Tobin get it? After a break, Egon realized we were spending too much on one part of the mystery. We then began checking into every part, but not too deep. The first was the fridge, and after seeing that from the information given by Dana, it should not have had anything to do with it. Then, we began looking more into the building, and while we were waiting to get the plans for the building, the man who built it was more interesting since he seemed to be the key to it all, so I went back to all the areas and began looking in sections about one Ivo Shandor.

While the investigation continues, I am with Egon in the basement with the Storage containment.

“So when do you think we can build the permanent storage facilities that we’ll need to build so we don’t have a nuke in downtown New York,” I asked, going through reports I had the guys write after jobs and requests of new devices to be built so that we don’t have too many untested devices at one time currently I was looking at a request to create a Proton Bazooka.

“It's not going to nuke the city. It's stable for now.” Egon said while recording the weight of a Twinkie.

“I don’t like the sound of that. I feel we need a more permanent location, and maybe a laboratory that isn’t where we live seems like an OSHA violation, and if it isn’t, it should also be. I do not want to risk anything to chance when the government starts regulating us,” I said while reading a request for Ghost Knife, a knife that only hurt ghosts.

“I concur, but it's gonna need to be soon. We may need to get another mortgage on Ray’s home,” Egon said before eating the measured Twinkie.

“That’s not good. Have we picked any new locations, or why are we so busy,” I said, reading about a Super Slammer trap for the ecto 1.

After approving the Super Slammer, I heard Ecto doors close. It's Peter and Ray getting back after a bust. That must have been bad because I could smell the smoke from here. I may have attempted to ban smoking since the public finally realized the dangers of smoking, but that didn’t mean that they stopped entirely. They smoked, especially if I wasn’t at the firehouse on Wednesday or when they thought I wasn’t around.

Next was the sound of Ray coming down the stairs, but not Peter with him. His footsteps were different. Did someone apply for this job? Sure enough, after a moment, Ray stumbled down, followed by a well-dressed black man, not too overdressed but casual. The man was behind Ray, holding two ghost traps and trying to avoid touching them.

Ray told the man about the job and the benefits, stopping his spiel from taking a drag on his cigarette when he noticed me. He looked like a deer in headlights as I walked over as he reached the final step. Before he could say a word, I took the cigarette out of his mouth and slapped him.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop smoking? It’ll kill you one of these days, and I don’t want to put you in the containment unit, but so help me, I will put you in there before these ever do,” I said, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.

“And here is Tanya Degurechaff, our student turned ghostbuster,” Stantz said, looking at the man behind him.

“Sorry about that, here, let me help you,” I said, taking the traps out of his hands, removing the cable from them, and throwing them into the cable box.

“Well, thank you, uh … Tanya, I am Winston Zeddemore,” He said, offering his hand.

“Pleasure, what made you take the job? If you don’t mind me asking, I’m curious about what methods of advertising work. I said, shaking his hand.

“Well, I don’t think it will help but a little bit of my mother and a bit of the newspaper.” He said with a chuckle.

This was surprising, but not entirely. The ad we took out in the paper was not what you would say is “great,” but when they put me in charge of writing the ad, I decided to take a similar version I did with the 203rd because that had the opposite effect I wanted, so I thought it might work this time in favor of me. However, this time was better since I could offer good pay.

“This is Dr Egon Spengler. He is the brain behind the equipment,” Stantz said.

“Hey, Tanya, could you come up here momentarily!” Venkman shouted down the stairs.

“I’d like to talk to you more, Winston, but I gotta see what that's all about,” I said before leaving.

When I reached the top, I saw Venkman putting out his cigarette before looking at me and shrugging a half.

“So, did you meet the new guy?” Venkman said as he swung the swinging door.

“Good, Good. We got a guy from the EPA. I’ll lift my left finger when I want you to chime in,” Venkman said with seriousness, so I nodded with understanding.

I followed Venkman into his office, and sure enough, there was a red-haired man in a suit and tie with a lapel pin.

“Can I help you?” Venkman said as I went and sat in one of the chairs in the office.

Standing up, the man put his hand out, saying, “I’m Walter Peck. I represent the Environmental Protection Agency in the 3rd district.” As he realized that Venkman still had slime in his hand.

“Great, how's it going down there?” Venkman said as he slathered more slime onto Peck’s suit.

“Are you Peter Venkman? I assume you are Tanya Degurechaff.” Peck said quizzically.

“Yes, I’m Doctor Venkman,” Peter said while I nodded my head.

“What exactly are you a doctor of, Mr. Venkman?” Peck said as if he was asking a child.

“Well, I have a Ph.D. in parapsychology and psychology,” Venkman said, pointing to one of his doctorates. Pecked looked surprised that Venkman could even say parapsychology.

“I see. And you, Ms Degurechaff, why are you here? Peck said, turning his focus to me.

“She was one of my students at Columbia. She is finishing her degree this next month.” Venkman said, pulling Peck's attention back to him.

“Okay, I get it, and now you both catch ghosts,” Peck continued.

“You can phrase it like that,” Venkman interjected.

“And how many of these ghosts have you caught, Mr. Venkman?” Peck said, staring straight at Peter.

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Venkman responded.

“And where do you put these ghosts once you catch them?” Peck asked as he paced the office space.

“In a storage facility,” Venkman answered.

“And would these storage facilities be located on these premises?” Peck asked.

“Yes” Venkman answered.

“And may I see this storage facility?” Peck asked.

“No” Venkman answered.

“And why not, Mr. Venkman?” Peck asked and sat in the chair opposite mine.

“Because you did not use the Magic word,” Venkman said.

“And what is the magic word, Mr. Venkman?” Peck asked.

“I thought everyone knew it, don’t you?” Venkman said, looking at me, knowing where he was going with it. I nodded. “Right there, even she knew it, it's please.”

“May I please see the storage facility, Mr. Venkman?” Peck said with a chuckle.

“Why do you want to see the storage facility?” Venkman asked.

“Because I’m curious,” Peck said, changing his tone. “I want to know more about what you do here. Frankly, there have been a lot of wild stories in the media, and we want to assess any possible environmental impact from your operation, for instance, the presence of noxious, possibly hazardous waste chemicals in your basement. Now you either show me what is down there-” I notice Peter Raise's left-hand pointer finger.

“Sorry to interrupt Mr. Peck, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to dispel any of these rumors. First, it’s Dr. Venkman; second, I’m curious as to why the Environmental Protection Agency would be interested in our business since we have not ordered any significant quantities of chemicals and do not produce anything but services to the public. If you have any questions on how our techs work, I’m sure the patent office would be more than willing to allow you to see our patents.” I said as politely as possible, but near the end, it may have come out as yelling.

“Oh, it speaks. Maybe I should call the labor board and let them know that besides hiding possible chemicals, the Ghostbusters also put a minor in danger by simply having her presence. Now, this is the last time I will ask politely. Show me the storage unit, or I will return with a court order and shut you down.

“Do not talk to her like that. If you bring a court order, I will sue your ass for wrongful prosecution and Harassing a minor!” Venkman said, slamming his hand down.

“You can have it your way, Mr. Venkman,” Peck said before storming out.

“By the way, you can get that slime out of your suit with some holy water. Careful not to get any on yourself,” I shouted as he left.

“Say, is that true? Does Holy Water get this stuff off?” Venkman said, looking at his slime-soaked suit.

“Unfortunately, yes, Ray, Egon, and I have been trying to figure out the difference between regular water and Holy Water, but we haven’t found any difference. There is not even a difference in Psychokinetic energy levels,” I said disgustingly. Being X has somehow interfered with having a clean and dirty uniform, so does his interference have to be this obvious?

“Been wondering how they’d been cleaning these. Also, you probably should not have mentioned the patent office. I imagine we might have to deal with the NRC sometime soon.” Venkman said.

“I have a feeling that he isn’t going to contact any other departments since he wouldn’t get the credit for it,” I said.

“Let's hope you're right, kid,” Venkman said, ruffling my hair. It might have been a good moment if he hadn’t wiped slime all over my head.

“You Ass,” I said, smacking his hand away when I realized what he did.

We headed back down to the basement to both inform Ray and Egon about the situation as well as get to know Mr. Zeddemore before beginning his training in the field of work that he would be in for however long he would stay here, I imagine after his first bust if he doesn't quit after that or two weeks after then he will probably be sticking around for a bit.

As we passed by Janine, I got Winston’s resume and the forms I had to fill out for his employment. From the information I saw on his resume, he seemed to be a near-perfect match for the company. He graduated high school, got a bachelor's degree, did construction work, and joined the Marines, where he spent many years until he transferred to the Air Force, where he went to Strategic Air Command ECM school only to leave and get a Master's degree.

After that, he did some odd jobs. I saw a cab driver and a fortune teller as other jobs. His certificates were numerous, though that was expected due to military training, but he was certified to handle computers and electrical repair. His physical appearance told me he maintained an athletic workout routine and could most likely carry the needed equipment.

Winston was the best we could get in human capital. Who knew we would luck out on our first applicant? Not only that, but he was black. As bad as it sounds, this was like the cherry on top of it. Not only did it show diversity in the company, but while it was good that I was in the company, the addition of a black man showed that anyone could be a Ghostbuster, which allowed for an expansion in marketability.

There was also the practical side of the addition of having a black man in the business since, for whatever reason, cyclical roaming vapors tend to respond better to those who are black. Why this is the cause is unknown to us and will probably be studied further after a while with Winston’s approval. After glancing at Winston's resume, Peter and I arrive at the basement, where I smell a distinct terrible smell.

Looking up from the resume, I see Ray and Winston smoking, from which I glare at them, causing them to put their cigarettes in the ashtray. Peter meanwhile examines the Storage unit.

“We just had a visit from the Environmental Protection Agency. How's the grid holding up?” Venkman asked

“Not good,” Egon responded.

“Tell them about the Twinkie,” Winston said.

“What about the Twinkie?” I asked.

“Well, according to the readings we’ve recorded, if a normal-sized Twinkie were the regular PKE readings, this morning's Twinkie would be 35 feet long and 600 pounds,” Egon said, holding a Twinkie.

“That's not good. If it's surging that much, when do you think the following disaster will occur?” I asked.

“Not sure, but I imagine before the end of next year at the latest if we go back to normal PKE levels,” Egon said.

“That's really not good,” I said.

“Seems like you chose the best time to join up,” Peter said.

“Lucky me, I guess,” Winston said sarcastically.

“You know, Peter, we ought to get back out there,” Ray said, looking at his watch.

“What about his training?” Peter said.

“Tanya can handle it,” Ray said as he and Peter went upstairs.

“Shall we get started then, Winston,” I said as I smiled.

“I recognize that kind of smile. I don’t like that,” Winston said, looking at Egon.

“Nonsense, you don’t have anything to worry about,” I said with a cackle.

By the time Ray and Peter returned to the firehouse at sunset, Winston was exhausted and well-informed about the workings of the essential equipment. Winston was also shown to be athletic enough to move quite quickly, carrying the equipment. Now, all that was left was some practice using the equipment. Luckily, as part of his training, I had him move some pumpkins to the roof.

When we have a permanent storage facility and labs, I would like to create a practice location that is better for it than attempting to hit stationary targets like a setup that would allow us to release a ghost for training in a controlled environment because while a trial by fire is excellent for those that are quick to adapt, not everyone that we will hire as we expand would be great for that since we are still getting started up. However, blasting pumpkins on the roof will have to do.

“Hey, how’s the training coming along,” Ray said, opening the roof access door.

“I’d say great. We’re just about to do some target practice,” I said.

“Have you thought about being a drill instructor?” Winston said through some breaths.

“I used to, but I don’t think I’ll ever return to it. It really hurt my throat,” I said, seeing Ray and Winston look at me confused. “Grab your stick!” I said as Winston shot up straight, grabbed the neutrino wand, and slid it off the back.

“Holding,” Winston said.

“Heat ‘em up.”

“Smoking,” Winston said as he turned the pack on.

“Make ‘em hard.”

“Ready,” Winston said as he extended the barrel.

“Strike,” I said, and Winston blasted one of the pumpkins without delay.

“And that's all there is to it, really,” I said, patting him on the back.

“Good job, kid,” Ray said. “we’ll get you out there soon, but we’ll need to get you the uniform before you can go out. It shouldn’t take too long,”

“Say I've been meaning to ask how much this job pays,” Winston asked.

Chapter Text

Winston was adjusting to his new job, though he only completed his first bust two days after being hired due to paperwork issues. The paperwork stemmed from the insurance and signing of paperwork since the job had considerable risk due to the unknown side effects of the technology and the ghosts themselves. While both Ray and Egon swear that the technology is entirely safe, the story Peter tells about Egon attempting to drill a hole through his head is anything to go by. I do not wholly trust Egon's definition of safe.

Sadly, though, because of this, I was not with Winston during his first bust since it was Wednesday, and I like my day off even if I'm usually chased around campus. Though from the reports and the guys' words, it went well. While we were stuck without having Winston join for busts for Tuesday and most of Wednesday, it did not mean we paid him while we waited for paperwork. He got to be Egon's lab assistant and kept Egon from blowing up the fire station on two occasions.

It also allowed us to give Janine a much-needed break since she was complaining about the amount of work given to her, and although a day of rest is not the exact amount I would prefer for her to have. While helping her where I could, there was too much work to keep the doors open. Since Winston was one of the company's first employees besides Janine, he was offered a lower paycheck for partial ownership of the company, which he accepted. Since he received this option, we clued him into the more long-term plans for the business.

His previous work in construction proved vital, as he contributed to developing the plans for the permanent storage and research location. While he did not understand how systems worked, I did not blame him since Peter and I could not always understand what Ray and Egon were saying. However, Peter was more due to not caring than actual ability. Indeed, Winston was already proving himself to be a capable team member, and with the cost of his Human capital being as low as it was, this was a positive for the company.

As for me, I made sure to invest in other companies with the guys' help since I still couldn't invest due to my age. Of course, I invested in all the companies I knew would become profitable, such as Apple, with plans to invest in all the other major companies that would dominate the 21st century, considering that I wasn't going even to think to touch it until I was in my 40's it was easy enough since I didn't see this company going under anytime soon since.

Even if we were to capture every ghost in New York, there would still be the rest of the country, even if only 1% of people who died became ghosts. With the rate of people dying in New York, let's say roughly 70,000 people in New York die in a year of the 7 million currently living, so a 10% death rate and with the idea that only 1% of the deaths result in a ghost that means in a given year New York alone gains 700 ghosts.

This is when things get interesting since 700 ghosts is just the amount that is created, but not all ghosts are the same class, so let's say that only 30% of the 700 are the types that people will call to be rid of meaning there are about 210 calls that we can make money on. Charging roughly $5,000 for each ghost busted since some will be cheaper and some more expensive, but that is the average charge, so it totals barely over $1 million.

It is not great, but not horrible either, considering this is only in New York City and does not account for the area surrounding that would be a reasonable distance. I'd reckon that we could, within reason, do, at the very least, have a ghost capture once a day, give or take, so assuming 365 ghost captures at roughly $5,000 would bring us in at $1.8 million and even assuming that the cost to run the business is at 75% cost that still puts us at $450,000 profit at the end of the year.

All this from just one year on ghost captures, and nothing else we have dipped our toes in, such as patents and Peter's plan for franchise rights. These numbers are in constant flux since we are still figuring out what percentage of people become ghosts when they die and the cause of ghosts. It is not something that only affects humans, as seen in the Chinatown bust, and then there is the question of what the life spans of ghosts are. Can ghosts live forever, or are there time limits to how long a ghost can exist since we have not encountered any ghosts older than a few hundred years?

Then there is what the ghost takes form. Some are more human, others are far from it, and some take the form of animals, which can vary in different ways. Some are a hundred years old and are the spitting image, while some are newer, more animalistic, lack human features, and cannot communicate. Anytime we develop a theory on the possible explanations of the afterlife, we find a ghost that destroys all previous ideas. Some are not connected to gravity, while others will fall if they go through a wall outside the building.

Even as someone who has died twice now, it makes no sense and is generally pissing me off due to the lack of rules it follows. If I could understand the science of magic, why won't this world's afterlife make sense? Though Egon and Ray are always happy to be disproven in their search, there are times when they have a theory ready to be submitted, only to come back and have to throw away dozens of pages of research since it was disproven. I even saw Egon shed a tear when a particularly long paper was thrown away due to a ghost being punched by Peter by accident.

The continuing issue of constant disproval due to new possibilities was one that Egon could manage. However, his patience was weighing, so to combat this, I suggested focusing on the more minor discoveries and not the big ones of trying to explain the entire afterlife.

While the idea of a book deal shortly would be great, the adrenaline of making more discoveries in the field of recognized science and not just what seemed to be the ravings of a mad lunatic as much of the previous works in the field was exhilarating it needed to be calmed down at specific points. Even with the now six people working at Ghostbusters Inc., the workload was ever increasing with the standard of at least two people on a bust leading to at the most two teams out, with usually Egon and Janine staying behind since Egon was the principal scientist of the group and Janine needing to man the phone left us in a state of maxing our workload with the numbers we have.

We were exhausted, and it was even worse on Wednesday due to my absence from school. Luckily, I was almost done on that front, being able to take the one class, and it was relatively easy for me. There were times I was doing my reading in Ecto and doing homework in the firehouse. There was an interesting moment when we came to see the ghost of a lawyer, and I was able to ask him a few questions about my homework.

I enjoy the ghosts with more reasoning and usually let themselves be captured. As my college experience was ending, I could not be any happier since the constant student and faculty swarming me was getting rather annoying. Since I was only there on Wednesday, it meant that everyone was able to figure out where I would be and when.

It did not take long for people on the campus to figure out which dorm was mine, leading to many people sending letters, annoying my roommate with questions, and handing her stuff to give to me. I felt terrible for her, and I did apologize, but there was little either of us could do. Luckily, though, to try to make it up to her, I suggest she charge people for handing her stuff with the threat of throwing away what was given or shoved under the door. Though she was still unhappy with me, she did so to lessen the amount.

Unfortunately, it did not lessen the amount of people handing her stuff. If anything, it increased it, but at the very least, she was getting paid for it, which helped her mood. As the amount increased and there was a constant influx, she got a few of her friends together to sort through the mail, opening it with my permission and handing me a summarized list. To become even more profitable, she created a tier list of possible messages, with the most expensive being an unopened letter except by me and a guarantee of a response.

In the few weeks this had been happening, it went from just her to the whole dorm floor working on it. My favorite part of it was that even though the highest price promise that only I read, it was a complete farce. The only part I ever took part in was answering the questions gathered by my roommate's summary sheet and signing my name once so they could copy it. It made so much money that my roommate could pay off her loans and have enough for the rest of her college education, even after expenses.

As much as I have enjoyed my time in college, I am glad it was ending since it meant I could focus more on the supernatural and finally find a way to end Being X and this brutal cycle of remembering past lives. When I was first born in this world, I was content going through the motions of a life cycle with a few improvements, but now that I could finally fight Being X, all bets were off. This is the best opportunity I will have in the cycles of my life, both current, past, and, if I fail, future.

However, the plans for ending a neverending cycle for my sanity would have to wait as it was now Sunday, which meant it was time to deal with the oncoming week. To this point, I have not seen Winston in action personally since, due to either one of us being busy with one bust or being paired with another, the cards had not aligned to have us work together. However, this seemed to have changed since the pairing for today was Winston and me since Egon and Ray were in the Hall of Records doing more research into the Barret case while Venkman was working on the press situation as well as finding a suitable lawyer for the inevitable situation with Peck.

Unfortunately for us, Peck had a reputation with business, and finding a lawyer within our budget was frustrating. Luckily, in the Barret case, we learned much about Ivo Shandor, his history, and some of his philosophy from writings in his architectural notes, books, and pamphlets, as well as his obituary in the newspapers and anything else we could find.

From what we could tell, he was born in Romania in 1855 and became a surgeon early on, though becoming very interested in odd things, with the occult being the most prevalent one. After he began studying the occult, his surgeries began to become weirder and unnecessary, with the best example found in a medical journal article about the possibility that adding a second heart would increase the physical and mental capabilities of the human body. The same journal would later add an article against Shandor, mentioning that the idea was ludicrous and that the article did not represent the journal. It questioned Shandor's medical knowledge and noted that he attempted this experiment without success on a patient who did not consent to adding a second heart. His medical license was revoked in Romania, so he is not Dr. Ivo Shandor.

Even after immigrating to the U.S., his new work as an architect proved out of touch with his customers wanting to have buildings be Art Deco, not Sumerian temples, so 550 Central Park West was his only complete building. However, he did add on to other buildings, but due to backlash, he never fully designed a building in New York. After World War I, he went full into the occult in an attempt to end the world.

Though that was just what we knew from journals, books, and other sources, Egon and Ray were currently requesting to have the blueprints of 550 Central Park West to look at the actual architecture of the building. At that moment, I was back at the firehouse. Winston and I were on the second floor, on the couch, and Winston was at the table finishing the Chinese takeout we had gotten earlier. Winston then asked me a question after finishing his wonton soup.

"Do you think you'll get your Doctorate?" Winston asked.

"Huh, oh, uh, I'm debating it. Why? I asked, snapping back from my deep thoughts.

"Oh, nothing. I was thinking about getting mine, and since you are getting your bachelor's in history, I was thinking of going down a similar path." Winston answered as he took a sip from his coke.

"Oh, okay, well, it's not bad, though there is a lot of reading and writing, though compared to the other classes, it pales. What field would you consider if you plan to jump into a doctorate without a bachelor's or master's in history?" I asked, glad to be talking about something reasonably mundane for the first time in a while that wasn't ghost-related. Even my pre-law class discussed what possible laws could exist with the start of the business and the legal rights and status of ghosts in the legal code.

"Well, I was always fascinated by Egyptology. I always hoped we would temporarily be stationed near Cairo in the Marines. Unfortunately, we never did, but it has just been something that has gotten hold of me, and while its grip has loosened at points in my life, it never fully let go." Winston said, even motioning a grip with his hands.

"Interesting, well though, I've been getting my Bachelors in History. I don't think I would get my doctorate even if I did. It would be during the First World War in Germany, and while I am undoubtedly fluent in German, I don't see myself doing it. I could move back to Japan, though I don't like the look of its economy in the future, and I haven't practiced in a while, so my accent is not as good as it used to be." I said only then, realizing after venting that I gave the idea that I knew German fluently, which is hard to explain, but living in Japan when I was only 13 years old and an orphan at that would be damn near impossible to describe.

Winston gave me a bit of a look before chuckling and saying, "Yeah, no, I get that. Funny enough, I was stationed in Japan, though my Japanese is horrible."

"We'll have to practice sometime," I said with a smile.

Winston looked at the clock and said, "Well, damn, it seems like it's time for us to head to Fort Detmerring. We should get there just after closing if we head out now."

"I'll get Ecto prepped. I'd suggest you get a smoke break before we head out. It's a bit of a way out," I said, getting up from the couch.

"Fair enough, still not a fan of making me quit. At least you're not making me go cold turkey, though." Winston said as he lifted the box to shovel the rest of the rice into his mouth.

"It's not healthy, and we do a lot of physical work," I said, heading to the stairs.

"Marines, let me smoke," Winston retorted with a mouthful of rice.

"You're not in the Marines anymore," I said, rounding the barrister and beginning my descent down the stairs.

"Once a Marine, always a Marine," He said after swallowing.

Once we arrived at the fort, a Park ranger let us in and did the initial setup, but the Ranger was confused. His confusion was due to the nature of the call. Unlike standard calls such as the nightclub or hotel, this was on discovery, not capture. This was a policy that Venkman realized since many locations claim to be haunted, and he realized that not everyone wanted their ghosts to be caught, so to get more customers still, we created an additional service for verifying claims of the paranormal.

Ghosts have always been both a warning and a drawing point for many businesses. If the so-called experts can verify that the location of a company is indeed haunted, it would draw in more interest to the area, and though most locations wouldn't care to get it verified by so-called experts, we, unlike other professionals that claimed to be experts we were popular so even if our popularity was to be temporary.

Companies and locations would still like a temporary increase if the cost does not exceed the temporary profit. All of these came into the service to verify these claims. Though we don't make nearly as much for investigation, it also allows for the hidden parts of the service, such as if in the inquiry, if we determine that the ghost is a dangerous one that will cause harm to the business, we are required to capture it and study it further to determine the risk of the ghost in question. The company must then pay for the entrapment as if it were a routine bust, but only if requested for the ghost to be released.

If, after the entrapment of a dangerous ghost, the business wants to keep it since that would be a demand that was anticipated, especially with the places that claim that there was a demon haunting the location, they would still have to pay for a standard bust but also pay an additional cost for releasing a dangerous ghost with the addition that Ghostbusters Inc. does not take any responsibility for the release of the hazardous ghost. So, the park ranger's confusion was why we were still gathering our entrapment equipment instead of the more typical detection-only equipment.

Unfortunately, the public was aware of what our equipment looked like and the purpose of our leading equipment since the news was obsessed with our company. Another fun clause of the investigation contract was the addition of what we could do in the case of a peaceful ghost, which we were allowed to capture for research purposes or anything we deemed essential.

However, we could not charge for the entrapment or release. If requested, after some time, we were required by contract to return the ghost at our expense. Still, if they decide to let us keep the ghost contained indefinitely, then the contract turns into a routine bust contract and would thus be charged if they request the return of the ghost, and we deny it must pay them for the extended time of containment.

Though the price would be negotiated and have to be determined in a way that both parties would agree was fair, we have the final veto of the cost of renting the ghost. It also allows us to return to the property to study it in its natural spawn point, but this must be done with the business closed during the study time and again at our expense.

Additionally, if our holding of the ghost leads to the ghost moving on to the next part of the afterlife, whether accession to heaven, any type including reincarnation, or hell or damage, Ghostbusters Inc. only has to pay if the ghost is damaged if it simply moves on the cost is not on Ghostbusters Inc. At the same time, I can't imagine these clauses needing to be activated. It's vital not to get burned in situations that might arise.

Besides, if I watch someone get dragged to hell, the last thing I want to deal with is a bill from the place we borrowed a ghost. After explaining to the Park Ranger how we would operate the investigation to confirm the presence of ghosts in the fort, he returned to his booth. After the Park Ranger left, it was back to Winston and me finishing preparations for the night.

"Right, so let's recap. The primary sources of paranormal activity are in the commanding officer's quarters, the barracks, and the training field around the fort. I'll check the Training field, and you can check the Barracks and the Commanding officer's quarters. If we can't find anything, we spend the night here at the fort since that is usually when most activities are reported, and we have already been permitted to do so if not encouraged to spend the night. If we find ghosts, report the document and catalog their specs before returning. Then, if we have to spend the night and still have nothing on them, we catalog no ghosts and head back. That summarizes the game plan," Winston said, stopping after each step to recall the protocol and specifics of the job and the discussion from the car.

"Yeah, that covers it, oh and dip on sleeping in the Commanding Officers quarters," I said, smacking Winston on the arm on his no ghost patch.

"Dammit, I thought I was done with barracks. Well, I guess I'll start checking around the fort." Winston said.

With that, we split up to check the fort. Though I wasn't pleased with splitting up, it made the most sense, and they were nonviolent, based on the reports of the ghosts that had a habit of appearing. Besides, I believe Winston and I could care for ourselves, unlike the others.

Now, the others could do well as they had proven before, and it could be the Military background Winston and I had, but the others had done more to make me worry, whereas Winston had not done so yet. The fort was older in the U.S., created just after the War of 1812. As such, there were few recorded deaths and no combat. The only reported hauntings were that of soldiers killed in training accidents and in the barracks.

However, the most frequently reported sightings were that of the second commanding officer of the Fort, Captain David Smith's wife, Tiffany Smith, who was killed after her husband found out about an affair she was having with one of the other officers. After that, the fort had no other significant instance until the Civil War, when gunpowder storage went off, killing a few soldiers and leading to a Black soldier being lynched by white soldiers in the barracks.

After the Civil War, it was abandoned for the most part until it became a tourist destination, which it is today. I was about to head to the Barracks when Winston suddenly returned with his P.K.E. meter on and wings out, pointing directly at me. Winston looked confused and tried moving the P.K.E. meter away from me, only for the wings to go down again and back out when he moved back toward me.

"I don't get it. It's pointing at you. Is there a ghost that we can't see?" Winston asked, confused.

"No, it's me. We are not exactly sure why, but it detects me here. Hand it over for a sec," I said, holding my hand out, which he placed the P.K.E. meter in, "there's a setting in the menu labeled "TD?" that should fix it. The guys turn it off when I'm not on the job so they can get a more accurate reading of the ghosts." I said, handing it back to him, "Here, check mine, so I know you can do it." handing him my meter.

"Huh, interesting. Is there a theory why that is?" he asked as he fiddled with the meter.

"Well, in honesty, we haven't figured out a solid theory, though we did get a close reading when Venkman was slimed but much weaker and has not been nearly as consistent as me. Though in their defense, I won't tell them more than they ask." I said blatantly.

"Well, what about you? Do you have any theories?" He said, handing the meter back.

"None that I will say. A girl gotta keep her secrets." turning around and heading toward the barracks.

I had a theory about why I seemed to have a trace of psychokinetic energy. I imagine reincarnation was supposed to work in that when someone died, they would be judged to go to either heaven or, if they did not meet the standard of Being X, then previous memories would be wiped away. The soul would return to life, but not before a record would be made about the soul's earlier life.

I imagine that my soul, as it was being judged, had a long record of going against being X before he decided to act and before my death, decided to question the soul, but since a soul without memory wouldn't be able to say much did so before the wipe then after deciding to send me to my second life meant that Being X did not wipe my memory which meant that from that point I would retain things from my previous life no matter what it was so with the first cycle I kept my memory.

With this cycle, I had the memories from the beginning. Still, since the addition of magic was more than likely tied to the soul in my second life, at least in some way, since it would be the only way this theory would work, I came to think since this world has a different system, it does not work it should. The best I could think of is having a game that remembers your character from a previous save.

Still, between the original game and the new game, you would have gone from a Console system to a computer system, which means you know the connecting story and the continued way the game works but with different controls. Now, there is the memory possibility that my soul was wiped off my first remembered life and that my life as I recall in Japan is based on the memory that I have of the memory I recalled from my previous life in the empire. This is where the nuances of reincarnation come into play since I'm not sure that is how it works.

This is just a mix of my knowledge of reincarnation in the way described in media but with the idea of Buddhist reincarnation and karma, but it is entirely uncertain since this would be something that could be so convoluted that if a mortal mind were to comprehend would fail, but that brings in more questions of what exactly is a human and a soul even during the conversations with Being X it was never just that of a pure soul but then would I even be able to process what a soul is even supposed to look like even with this world are the ghosts we are even capturing actual ghosts there are too many unknown and possibly incomprehensible to anything.

It doesn't help that I do not want to tell them the truth about who I am. While I am confident they could help and possibly understand, I worry about their interpretation of me. With some of the theories that they want to test with disregard to safety, it could lead to having to part ways with my best chance of understanding all that is my goal.

It is better to lead them on, and if they figure it out, then the better since then, even if they were to become weary of me, they would at the very least do so while pretending to hide what they know, thus expanding the need to work and learn what I need for when would a scientist explain to the experiment what they are doing if they think that the experiment either does not understand what the scientist does or knows and is hiding it from the scientist. I have had sisters in arms who I would die, but I didn't tell them the truth.

Why would I trust people I have only known for a few months? I make it to the barracks and scan the area, though to no avail. I belt orders alone, attempting to trigger a reaction to the ghosts, but to no avail. I then check the commanding officer's quarters with the same success. After a few hours of going back and forth with no luck, I met up with Winston as he returned from the field. Since we had no success in the usual search, we went to the next part, spending the night at the fort. We gathered our overnight bags from Ecto and settled in our agreed locations.

I set my pack at the base of the bed as I did my nightly routine, which included exercises and stretches. I then looked at the book self in the Captain's quarters and found a book in French. I figured I had not practiced French, so I read some and placed it on the nightstand. I then looked in the closet since I was in this business. It never hurts to check the closet for ghosts. I then unzipped my jumpsuit, though knowing better than to remove it, and tied the top section around my waist like one would do for a hoodie.

As I sat down to remove my boots, I was delightfully surprised to find that it was a bed made from feathers instead of the usual mattress stuffing. I lay on top of the covers practicing my French comprehension with the book, and after I read but a few lines from the book, I felt an increasing weight of tiredness and began fighting to keep my eyelids open. Still, my eyelids proved too heavy, and I was out the next thing I knew.

A bright light then awakened me. When I opened my eyes and adjusted for the light, I saw a beautiful girl in a Georgian-style nightgown above me. Her hair was floating unaffected by gravity, like the rest of her dress. She hovered above me, looking gracefully. Then, as I was taking in the sight of the ghost, she disappeared. I heard a whisper as my pants seemed to unbuckle, zip themselves down, and open, revealing my boxers.

"I've never experienced a girl before," the whisper said.

"Fuck, Noooooooo," I shouted, fighting the ever-increasing weight of tiredness, launching myself off the bed towards the trap. I slammed my hands on the pedal and opened the trap.

I heard a scream as the trap closed shut. I got up with the tiredness seeming to have left my body, along with the ghost. I zipped up my pants and put my gear back on. I heard a knock on the door as I finished putting my gear on. Winston seemed to check on me since the ghost, even at a distance, had triggered his P.K.E meter. I was thankful for his concern and glad he checked on me.

After telling him I had caught the ghost and the initial reminder to go forward and discuss the proper investigation procedure, we went to the range and informed him of what had occurred. We then told him of the ghost, that it was a Class IV anchored noncorporeal, and what the ghost had attempted to do to me. We told him the cost listed in the contract packet to hand to his boss, including an additional hazard cost I had sustained.

I then informed the Ranger we would do some tests on the ghost to confirm the possible dangers of the ghost and that we would return in a month to rerelease the ghost unless they decided after we reported on the ghost, they deemed it to be too dangerous for business then the standard capture charge would replace the investigation charge.

After we explained the process and had the stationed Ranger a form confirming that we had explained the contents of the packet with the charge and that we were leaving it with him so that our contractor wouldn't be surprised about the extra charge and when the ghost would be returned. We didn't need to explain the contents of the packet to the Ranger; we were only required to hand it to him and then to his boss. It would cause fewer issues since if any problems arose, the fault would lie with the Ranger failing to inform his supervisor, though we would send another reminder to make sure.

While this cost us a lot of paper and ink, I wanted to cover our ass in as many layers as we could. After dealing with that, Winston and I gathered our stuff, returned to Ecto, and began the drive back to the firehouse. Winston asked if I was okay, and he was always there to talk to him, like the other guys, since he heard what I told the ranger what the ghost tried to do to me. I told him I was okay, that it wasn't something he should worry about, and that I'd prefer not to talk about it but that I appreciated his concern.

We then sat silently for a moment and then turned on some music. After returning to the firehouse, I turned in the report about the bust. I then told Venkman to update Ms. Barret on our progress after handing him a paper with a summarized list of what we learned that we knew for sure. I then turned in for the night. In times like this, I was glad that the Guys made sure I had my room in the firehouse to lie down and curse Being X, that bastard.

Chapter Text

to our surprise Halloween remained only as busy as a typical day if not less busy though as Venkman joked was due to people expecting there to be costumes and pranks meaning that it is possible that in actuality there was an uptick but people just took whatever they saw as decorations and not an actual ghost then there was the fact that an actual haunting was desirable to some on Halloween with the leadup to the holiday also having several people wanting us to release friendlier ghosts for their Halloween party.

Unlike my fellow students, I did not participate in costume-wearing, much to everyone's surprise. Unfortunately, my dress style had not changed between my last life and now, so many people did not see me regularly. However, I was dressed up as Buckaroo Banzai, much to my annoyance.

Despite the possible profit, we didn't know the effects of what Halloween could do to spirits. Hence, we even increased the power of all packs, traps, and the containment unit in preparation for the possibility that it would lead to a change in spiritual energy. At the same time, we had no backing since it was the first time we were dealing with a supernatural-focused holiday.

According to the reports, there were no noticeable differences in ghost captures. However, Egon argues that it is most likely since we increased the power of all of our tech in preparation and to support the hypothesis, the data collected show a noticeable spike in general with the day breaking the charts previously made by Egon for the daily scan of the general parts of New York.

Egon got the scans since he theorized that everything had some parts of Psychokentic Energy. He made a scanner that analyzes the area for energy, records the results, and loads them into one of the many computers in the Firehouse. Egon has been keeping track. According to these scans on Halloween, there was a 13% spike on the day, beginning at the midpoint of the sunset and sunrise, and it has remained at that point.

Though if it had gotten bad, I would've been more than fine leaving university earlier than usual, since it was possible for whatever the reasoning for Halloween's effects to be more than the guys could handle. Luckily, all that has happened is that Ray, Venkman, and Winston have been handling calls. At the same time, Egon collects as much data as physically possible.

Once I got back today, I continued to help with calls and assist Egon with data collection and study of the blueprints we got earlier today of Dana Barrett's apartment and all other documents we have collected on everything we knew about the apartment, and from my growing understanding of the supernatural, it was beginning to paint a bad picture.

Venkman left an hour ago after we gave him a simplified explanation about our current investigation. However, he didn't really pay attention since his meeting with Dana was just an elaborate excuse for him to take Dana out on a date. I was finishing with the most recent readings of the day, as the PKE readings continue to rise, when Janine called for us to come down following Egon.

We go to the door where we meet an officer. This would happen on occasion, where the police and lawyers were calling to see if criminals were, in fact, possessed by supernatural beings as an explanation for why people committed acts. This becomes a source of conversation in my law class about the legality of whether it should become practice and/or trusted in a courtroom.

The debate on whether it could be trusted was a talking point, but seemed to be coming to an end when a man who had murdered his wife was actually possessed. We were able to expel the ghost, as it happened in the courtroom, which proved his innocence, leading to his case ending with a not guilty verdict. However, this court case was now going up the court system. It most likely would go to the Supreme Court over whether ghosts are recognized in the eyes of the law.

However, unlike tonight, the Officer came to us instead of the usual call from the police about it. There was also a transport van outside with doors open.

"You a ghostbuster?" The police captain asked Egon.

"Yes," Egon responded.

"We picked up this guy, now we don't know what to do with him. Belleve doesn't want him, and I'm afraid to put him in the lock-up. And I know you guys are into this stuff, so I figured we'd check with you." The captain said as he led Egon to the back of the van.

Inside the van was an officer next to a small man with ragged hair, thick black glasses, who bobbed back and forth wearing a straitjacket, though loosely except around the arms that were bound tightly underneath his shirt was wrinkled and dirtied, with only the top two buttons undone and the top button missing, when he noticed Egon he looked up "Are you the gatekeeper" he said in a tired voice.

Egon just raised the PKE meter and turned it on, causing the screen to go so fast that the dot appeared as a straight line, and the arms sprang out as the machine's beeps became a steady, long tone. "You'd better bring him inside."

We then all headed back into the Firehouse as the police officers carefully lowered and escorted the man into the Firehouse. Janine turned to Egon and reached out to hold Egon's hand. "You are so kind to take care of that poor man. You know, you're a real humanitarian."

Egon then turned his head toward Janine. "I don't think he's human."

I talked to the captain as we headed to the lab to look more into the man. "Why is he in a straitjacket?"

"Well, when we were picking him up, he started resisting arrest, and though nobody was hurt, it took about 15 of New York's finest to get him in the bloody thing, and when we went to Belleve, the patients started acting crazy, hence why we went here." The captain said, heading up the stairs.

Once we got to the lab, the captain sat the man on the stool by the Visual Imaging Tracker that we had previously used on Ms. Barret. The other Officer went down to grab the man's bag of items when he was taken in. After getting the bag, the officers asked if we wanted the straitjacket removed.

"If there is one place that could deal with someone like this, it is here we should be fine, but thanks for the concern, officer," Egon said as he started the Visual Imaging Tracker.

"Alright, if you think so," the captain said as they started loosening the straitjacket. After a few moments, the officers ensured the man wouldn't try to make a break for it, and they started heading out.

"Say, would any of the stuff you all work on be good for police work?" the captain asked as I led them out.

"Unfortunatly not what we can tell so far our technology only affects those on the spirit plane and unless there is a spirit crime ring there would be no real use besides confirming weather someone is actually possessed or not and even if there was a spirit crime ring it would be difficult to get a jury to convict plus we still havent fully gotten full legal understanding of what a spirit is and if they are even subjects under the law considering the assumption is living citizens, but we'll let you know," I said as they left the Firehouse.

"To be safe, could you have a few cars pass by a bit more frequently tonight just in case?" I asked.

"Sure, no problem," the captain said as he entered the transport.

When I got back up to the second floor of the lab, Egon was looking at the Visual Imaging Tracker, where the screen showed that the man on the stool was actually a hairless dog with horns that was actually bigger than the man in person. The man had the scanner, made from a colander, strapped tightly to ensure it did not move, and as he looked around, the beast on the screen moved too. Janine was on the couch, looking through the man's objects. I sat down on the sofa on the opposite side of the armrest.

"What'd you say your name was?" Egon Asked.

“Vinz Clortho, Keymaster of Gozer.” The man responded. I had heard that name before, so I grabbed a nearby notebook of what we understood of Ms. Barrett's case and began flipping through our notes.

"Well, according to this, his name's Louis Tully. Lives on Central Park West." Janine said, finding the man's wallet in the bag she handed to Egon.

"That's the same general area as our client," I said while flipping through the notebook.

"Do you want some coffee, Mr. Tully?" Janine asked.

"Do I?" Vinz responded, looking at Egon with eyes like a child asking a mother if they can have a glass of juice.

"Yes, have some," Egon said, throwing the wallet over me.

"Yes, have some," Vinz said, looking back at Janine and nodding. I looked at Mr. Tully's licence.

"Oh," was all I said as the realization that he wasn't just near Ms. Barret but in the same building, and from the look on his face, he was on the same floor as Ms. Barret.

"Vinz, you said before you were waiting for a sign. What sign are you waiting for?" Egon said, sitting in front of Vinz while Janine put on some water to boil for coffee.

Vinz, entirely focused for the first time, began, "Gozer the Traveler! He will come in one of the pre-chosen forms. During the Rectification of the Vuldronaii, the Traveler came as a large and moving Torb! Then, during the Third Reconciliation of the Last of the Meketrex Supplicants, they chose a new form for him, that of a giant Sloar! Many Shubs and Zulls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of a Sloar that day, I can tell you!" he said with enthusiasm and relish of having not only seen but enjoyed seeing the events described. Though I had no idea what he said, the main points I made sure to jot down were that Gozer would come in a pre-chosen form, and the form was chosen; he did not mention how. From the sound of it, Gozer was coming to end the world.

"Egon," Janine said, then made a come over here finger movement, causing Egon to get up and walk over to her, where she began talking to him. Now is a good time to ask about the pre-chosen form of Gozer.

"So Vinz, how is the form for Gozer chosen?" I asked.

"Well, when Gozer the Traveler arrives, a being is chosen, and they will become the selector, so that when Gozer transforms, it will always be an entity that those from that dimension will fear and thus power Gozer for its next travel. Vinz said, but was distracted by a jar of popcorn and a slice of pizza, and then slid the slice over his face.

The phone then rang, causing Vinz to jump and head to the phone. I then picked it up and said, "I got it."

"Hello," I said, holding the phone to my ear. Curious, Vinz picked up the phone base to examine it, and I took it out of his hands. "Thank you, Vinz, go have some Coffee."

"Hey, kid, it's Peter. I have some news from the world of Gozer." Peter's voice came through the phone.

"What are the chances? So, what was the date?" I joked since something clearly happened.

"It was fine until a certain Sumerian god started putting the moves on Dana, my would-be girlfriend," Peter sighed.

"So pretty good besides that, where are you?" I asked.

"I'd say so, she's certainly an animal in bed, I just whacked her up with about 300 cc's of Thorazine. She's going to take a little nap now. She says she's the Gatekeeper. Does that make any sense to you?" Peter said.

"First, where did you get 300 cc's of Thorazine?" I asked worriedly.

"It's what she had in her nightstand, which is not important right now, and while I'm down for role play, I don't think I'm okay with playing a locksmith," Venkman said, annoyed.

"Well, as luck would have it, we have the Keymaster here at the station," I said, knowing I was pushing the line too far. While Vinz was drinking the boiled water, Janine had set out to make coffee.

"Think they'd make a cute couple," Venkman joked, letting me know it was okay.

"No, I think the Drama would be too much for the world," I said.

"Right well, hold on to him, I'll be there in a bit," Peter said.

"Alright," I said, putting the phone down just as Vinz hands me a pan.

"Where is Ray? We need to talk to him," Egon asked Janine.

"He's not going to be here until morning. The job that he went to was out of the city." Janine told Egon.

"Well, in the meantime, we can figure this out with our notes," I said, looking for red yarn and a pushpin board.

"There are some tests I'd like to do while we wait." Egon said, heading down the stairs, "Keep an eye on him while I get some things." Janine followed after Egon.

"Say, if you don't mind me asking, Vinz, why Tully as your possession?" I asked once Egon and Janine were out of earshot.

"I could ask the same for you, though, at least I'm just using the meatbag you seem intertwined with yours." He said, tilting his head 15 degrees.

"What are you talking about?" I asked him.

"Oh, you're one of those. Gozer will interest you; you might survive if you join when asked." Vinz said.

After that, I stopped asking Vinz questions and instead just helped Egon with his tests as we waited for everyone to return.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

During the rest of the night, I helped Egon with his experiments, allowing us to learn much more about what was happening and possession. At the same time, we certainly had an idea about possession. Still, we did not get much time to study it since we often had to get the ghost out as quickly as possible. Still, the normal ways of depossing were not working on it, allowing for a better idea of what we could tell about them, including what class of ghost possessed the man, which was a Class VII. Our questioning answered many questions, such as how much memory people possessed, which is low. Vinz was seemingly happy to help, since, according to him, he liked to know the world before it was destroyed, so that the beauty of the destruction was all the more beautiful. Egon and I were in the basement, about to test another idea about capturing ghosts that had possessed people without all the work we usually do. We heard Janine yelling upstairs, and a moment later, Janine ran down the stairs.

"Egon, I tried to stop them! He says they have a warrant," Janine said, moving to Egon's side as Walter Peck, an officer and what seemed to be an engineer.

"Excuse me, this is private property!" Egon said to Walter's deaf ears.

"Shut this off. Shut these all off." Walter Peck said, pointing at anything with a light.

"Hello, Mr. Peck, sir, before you do anything rash, may I at least see the documents Ms. Potts said you have so that we may comply with the letter of the law?" I said to at least distract Peck, even if for a moment.

"Not to mention turning off these machines would be extremely hazardous," Egon said while Vinz looked at Peck, Egon, and me.

"I'll tell you what's hazardous. You're facing federal prosecution for at least half a dozen environmental violations. Now, you shut these beams off, or we shut them off for you." Peck said before switching focus to me, pointing and poking me on my forehead. "And as for you, little miss, don't think sending a complaint will affect my work."  He said before shoving the document onto me. All while Vinz continued to point at Peck

I quickly moved to the nearby table and began flipping through the documents to see what Peck had brought to us.

"Now shut it off now." Peck practically screamed at the engineer through gritted teeth while Egon moved Janine and Vinz to the switch to protect his life's work.

The engineer looked at the many readouts and the system and even attempted to understand the complex system. I was looking at the paperwork using my knowledge from previous lives and my own class I had now to get what it was, and from the looks of it, it was complete horseshit.

"Try to understand. This is a high-voltage laser containment system. Simply turning it off would be like dropping a bomb on the city." Egon said, hoping it would deter the bureaucrat, but my own experience did not show that it would.

"Don't patronize me! I'm not grotesquely stupid like the people you bilk!" Peck spat at Egon while Peter came down from the stairs.

"At ease, Officer. I'm Peter Venkman. I think there's just been a slight misunderstanding and I wanna to cooperate in any way that I can," Peter said calmly, reaching his hand to introduce himself.

"Forget it, Venkman! You had your chance to cooperate, but you thought insulting me'd be more fun. Well, now it is my turn, wise ass," Peck spat, walking up to Peter to show he was in charge of the situation.

"He wants to shut down the protection grid, Peter," Egon said, not budging.

"You shut that thing down, and we are not going to be held responsible for whatever happens," Venkman warned Peck.

"On the contrary! You're going to be held responsible." Peck said while Peter tried to talk over him.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, stop the presses! This whole thing is illegal!" I shout, finally finding the one thing I was looking for.

"What are you talking about? I checked that everything was within the law." Peck said, focusing on me.

"Pay no attention to him, keep talking, kid," Venkman said.

"The documents that you handed me include a ban on the use of public utilities for unauthorized waste handlers, and while we are also not waste handlers, we also did not receive a notice that our utilities were going to be shut off, meaning we have had no time to prepare for the shut off of our electricity and due to that this is not an authorized shut off meaning that you are not permitted to to shut us down entirely, we will comply with ceasing our business and also I'm fairly certain that you cannot seize our premises since we own the building and you have no claim though that will have to be determined in a court but as of now you are not allowed to shut down our power," I said holding the documents noting that the shut off was approved today and therefore not given notification inadvanced.

"What, no, that's not how that works, shut it off now!" Peck looked through the documents for something, but they had a section about prior notice.

"We are willing to fully explain to the CON EDISON representative how the system works, but I suspect that he will want to call his Union Representative to make sure that he is operating correctly, since he could be held responsible if anything were to go wrong," I said pointing to the CON EDISON man that was here as he realized that he properbly should call up the chain to save his ass.

"Yeah, sorry, I should check just to make sure, and I don't really understand any of this stuff," the CON EDISON man said, but Peck grabbed his hand.

"No! No, you are supposed to walk over here and SHUT IT OFF!" Peck said, dragging the man to the power switch, putting the man on the switch, and shutting it off with his hand.

When he shut off the Containment Unit, the lights turned red, and alarms started blaring. I grabbed the documents and ran out of the Firehouse, not wanting to stick around. I booked it out, and everyone soon followed after leaving. I turned to make sure everyone made it out. Just as everyone was leaving, a vast cloud of smoke left the Firehouse, followed by rumbling. Soon, an explosion, with the explosion having a giant purple light beam out the top of the Firehouse, with orbs of light, then dashing out in every direction as fast as possible. Still, the wind became so strong that I had to duck my head as debris began to fly everywhere. I then noticed water started falling on top, getting my hair wet. I quickly stuffed the documents into my jacket pocket to keep them dry as I reviewed the guys. Just as luck would have it, Ray and Winston showed up.

"What happened?" Ray asked.

"The storage facilities blew. He shut off the protection grid." Egon said bluntly.

"Oh great," Ray sighed.

"That's bad, right?" Winston asked, confused.

"Yeah," Ray continued to sigh.

"Where's the Keymaster?" Peter asked.

"Shit," Egon said while we began turning our heads, seeing if we could see him anyway. Egon seemed to spot him, and we all started to follow. When he was blocked by Peck.

"Hold it! I want this man arrested. Captain, these men are in criminal violation of the Environmental Protection Act, and this explosion directly results from it!" Peck shouted, pointing at Peter.

"Your Mother!" Egon shouted, causing a fight to break out as we all tried to pull Egon off of Peck, and when all was said and done, we were all taken into police custody.

Moments later, at the police station, I was at Officer Murphy's desk answering questions while the guys were in jail.

"Ma'am, do you know your mother's phone number? We need to have a word with her," Officer Murphy asked me.

"I don't have a mom, I'm an orphan," I said to the Officer.

"Not according to this, you were adopted a few weeks ago." Officer Murphy said, "And we can't release you to your dad since he's in the cells."

"Wait, who adopted me?"