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Tango looked at Joker. Tango looked at Impulse. Impulse was giving him the same look he was pretty sure he had on his face. Tango looked back at Joker.
“We are not bringing the Tripods.”
“Why not?!” Joker whined, clutching one of the five tripods sitting in the truck. “They are invaluable tools in a ghost hunting exposition.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve tripped over those things?” Tango exclaimed. “Cause I’ve lost count at this point.”
“I haven’t.” Impulse added. “It’s 145 times”
“I hate your inhuman memory sometimes. But yeah, I trip on them. A lot. And there’s plenty of perfectly good surfaces to put the cameras on.”
“We’ve done over 145 hunts?” Joker asked, ignoring the objections to his precious tripod.
“Probably at least double that, yeah. Though I haven’t been keeping track.” Impulse confirmed.
“You don’t keep track of how many times we’ve hunted ghosts, but you do keep track of how many times I fall and embarrass myself over Joker’s Tripods??”
“Well what are we still waiting in the truck for? Let's go hunt some ghosts!” Impulse grabbed a spirit box and some salt and pushed open the doors of the truck. The winter air hit quickly, making him shiver. He could never get used to the cold.
“No, you’re not dodging that!” Tango yelled as he grabbed the journal and crucifix from the wall of the truck and followed Impulse out. “Get your demon butt back here!” Joker simply smiled, since the tripod denier basically got distracted from their objections, and followed his friends out with the camera and his invaluable tripod.
The house they were hunting in was a modest little home: a light blue two story high ranch with a basement according to the owner. They also stated that the last owner was apparently murdered there and is still haunting the place and it was really annoying to the college kids that were renting the place.
“Alright let’s find this ghost!” Impulse exclaimed, still ignoring Tango who looked like smoke was about to come out of his ears any minute. “Who wants upstairs, downstairs or ground floor?”
“You still never told me why you remember all the times I failed spectacularly.” Tango asked, moving around to block Impulse from going into the rest of the house. “And I’m not moving until you do.”
“You do realize he could just … pick you up?” Joker pointed out as he caught up to the two. “Like very easily.”
“Principle, Joker. Just … answer the question please or I will annoy you and be unproductive this entire hunt.”
“I do it for everyone, anyways, so you’re not special.” Impulse sighed. “Plus wouldn’t you keep track of something embarrassing that happened to your friends?”
“One, I am very special, thank you very much.” Tango puffed up his chest a little, making the others snicker a little. “Second, that is very much a true statement and I don’t like the feeling of being called out like this. Third, I’ll take upstairs. Always the least haunted of the floors.”
“Wait … how many times have I tripped over the tripods?” Joker asked as Tango headed upstairs.
“Seven. I’m going downstairs.” Impulse stated. “Also I'm 39, if you're curious.”
“Wow, we really trip over these things a lot.” Impulse nodded at the statement as he made his way into the basement. The place was mostly empty with not much more than a washer, dryer and boiler. There was some storage under the stairs and some shelf space but not much otherwise. Besides, empty space didn’t rule out a ghost.
“Any luck with you guys yet?” Tango radioed through the walkies they all had. “Upstairs is kind of dead right now.”
“You’ve been up there a total of 60 seconds max.” Joker rebutted.
“Yeah, 60 seconds too long and too silent. I feel like I’m going to trigger a hunt any second. Did these kids say where the activity and stuff was usually located?”
Impulse was about to respond when he heard something fall onto the concrete floor. “Just heard something in the basement. Give me a second.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Basement is always the most haunted.” Tango added, and Impulse could practically hear the man grinning at him through the walkie. He ignored it though; he had a ghost to negotiate with.
“Hey there, uh, Ghostie. Really should have done more research if you just … happened to be murdered here to at least, like, know your name or something.”
“DONT BRING THAT UP!” The Spirit cried out, the small lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flickering from the outburst. Then, in a much quieter voice, “Sorry, I’m kind of sensitive about my death.”
“You good down there, Impulse?” Joker called down from the top of the stairs. “Seems you might have triggered it a bit. Lights were flickering up here.”
“Fine, I’m fine. Takes a lot to hurt me anyways. You guys can come down if you want.” Joker nodded as Impulse turned back to where he assumed the ghost was. “Hey, we’re not here to hurt you. We just want to help you pass on and stop haunting these kids, okay?”
“What does it matter?” The Spirit complained. “You can’t understand what I’m saying anyways.” A vase fell off the shelf, rolling into view from behind the stairs as Tango met up with them.
“Do we have an angry ghost here?” He asked, gripping his flashlight even harder than he already was.
“Not yet … he’s just frustrated we can’t understand him and thinks him talking to us doesn’t matter.” Impulse relayed.
“Does he know you can hear him because you’re a demon?”
“No, I haven’t gotten to that part yet.”
“Hold On.” The ghost floated out from behind the stairs, showing himself to Impulse for the first time. He had spiky black hair and a slight stubble framing his chin. The sleeves on his shirt were ripped, showing scarring on his arms all the way down. It was hard to tell the color of his shirt and tie from the pool of blood and stab wound present in his ghostly form. His legs were faded because he was a ghost, but based on how he held himself he looked to be about slightly taller than Tango. “You can hear me??”
“And see you, yeah. Hi, I’m Impulse. I am a demon who lives in the Underworld so I’m able to see things that are supposed to be there. These two accidentally summoned me …”
“Best accident ever, by the way.” Tango interjected. “You give the best cuddles.”
“Second that.” Joker added. “Also should I pull out the spirit box to see if we can hear the other side of this conversation?”
“Nah, that thing only really gives us every other word at best anyways.” Tango said.
“How did you accidentally get summoned?” The spirit asked. “Also I miss cuddles. Wish I could prove if what those other guys are saying is true.”
“Long story involving a garage sale, lack of common sense and lots of screaming.” Impulse said. “But that’s besides the point. The reason we’re here is we want to help you move on to the Afterlife.”
“But I don’t want to move on. I like it here and there’s a lot I haven’t seen and done. Well, can’t really do much here anyways. Kind of stuck in this basement.”
“What’s he saying?” Tango whispered, but Impulse waved him away.
“You can’t stay here though. Other people live here and they don’t want a ghost haunting their home.”
“Well, I can’t leave this place anyways. I’m kind of … attached to my murder weapon anyway. But I like life and people and I’m not ready to go into the light yet.” Impulse sighed and walked towards the storage under the stairs.
“Oh I think we have a tough one.” Joker commented as him and Tango moved to get a better view of what Impulse was doing.
“Pretty calm though for a ghost that seems unwilling to leave.” Tango added, and Joker simply nodded. Impulse pulled out the weapon from behind a false wall after a few minutes of searching: a battle axe still covered in dried blood with the words Red Winter carved into the handle. Impulse held it up cautiously, silently asking for confirmation.
“Yep, that’s the one.” The ghost confirmed. “That’s what killed me.”
“Why does someone just have that in their house?!” Tango exclaimed, seeing what Impulse found.
“I don’t know.” The ghost replied.
“Ghost doesn’t know.” Impulse repeated, before his hands and eyes began to glow yellow as he channeled the little spiritual magic he knew. “Dimitte spiritum tibi appositum.” A faint glow only Impulse and the Spirit could see glowed on the axe snapping in their ears.
“What was that?” He asked, floating closer to Impulse.
“This weapon holds no power over you anymore. You are free to do whatever you want.”
“I … I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had this kind of freedom since I died.”
“What’s happening now?” Joker asked. “What was that axe that you were holding?”
“That’s what killed our ghost here.” Impulse replied. “Now he just has to decide what he wants to do now.”
“And we’re just going to leave the murder weapon here? And just let whatever psycho did this get away with it?” Tango said, the anger apparent in his face and words. “We’ve got to find who did this and get justice.”
“Tango, we’re ghost hunters. Not detectives.” Impulse pointed out. “The two of you can’t just take on someone who is willing to kill when someone gets in his way.”
“I don’t need my murder solved.” The ghost said, floating between Impulse and the others. “I know what happened and have accepted that. I’m just … I want to stay here on Earth and pretend to be alive just a little longer.”
“Well, you can’t pretend to stay alive here. You need to go somewhere.”
“Can I pretend with you guys?”
“What?” Impulse said, before explaining the situation to Joker and Tango.
“First a demon, now a ghost.” Tango joked. “We’re just collecting all the supernatural entities into our friend group.”
“So guys are okay with this ghost just coming along?”
“My name is Skizzleman, by the way. Kind of rude you never asked that.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, the more the merrier.” Joker said, and Tango nodded in agreement. “I mean, it might be a little weird have a ghost hunting ghosts …”
“And that we can’t see this person.” Tango added.
“...And that we can’t see him, but we’ll figure it out.”
“There’s probably something in one of the supernatural books you picked up researching me about a spell to see ghosts.” Impulse concluded. “But I guess that’s that. Welcome to the team, Skizzleman.”
“Glad to be a part of one again.” Skizz said as he followed the group out of the house he’d been stuck in for the last several years. It may not be a new life, but it sure did feel like the start of something incredible.