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Lizzie had exactly two thoughts running through her head on this fine summer evening. The first was why she had allowed herself to be talked into going ghost hunting with Gem, Oli, and Jimmy to begin with. She could've been sitting outside, playing with her dog, reading a book, even blummin' gardening, for goodness sake.
The second thought, was that Gem seemed rather unbothered by the fact that their friends might be dead.
Lizzie wrenched on the locked door right as it unlatched itself. She pitched forwards and screamed, barely catching herself on a bookshelf. Gem grabbed her other elbow and saved her from faceplanting on the carpet.
"Anyone alive in here?" Gem called, letting go once Lizzie regained her balance.
Lizzie held her breath, her hands running over her arms as goosebumps rose beneath her sleeves the longer the silence stretched on. Stillness, and something lingering just beyond, leaving her skin crawling at the sensation of eyes roaming over her.
Gem sighed. "Oh dear."
"We're not going in there, right?" Lizzie whispered.
"Here, take the crucie," Gem said. Lizzie instinctively wrapped her fingers around the freezing iron and clutched it to her chest. Gem carried some sort of weird lantern with a pungent scent of herbs, her torch sweeping over the room from her other hand. "Come on!"
"Oh, blummin' heck-"
"We'll be fine, Lizzie. The ghost was in the kitchen, right?"
"I- yes. Yes, it was."
"Perfect. Did Oli or Jimmy do spirit box?"
"Not sure what they were doing, actually."
Gem laughed. "Fair enough."
They rounded the corner. Gem's torch swept over the hall, over picture frames knocked off the wall, a lamp fallen over on a table, and decorative knick knacks strewn over the floor. Lizzie took care not to step on any of them— that would probably anger the ghost even more— and followed Gem into the kitchen. She gasped and covered her mouth at the sight of the bodies collapsed in a heap.
"Oh my gosh, this has all gone horribly wrong, Gem!"
"Nah, they're not dead." Gem flicked on the lights, then knelt next to Jimmy and pressed her fingertips against his neck. "Still alive. Just unconscious. And that's why the first thing you do when you find the room is put down a crucie, boys!"
Right on cue, heat seared against Lizzie's fingertips. She yelped and jumped back, letting the crucifix fall to the floor as it burst into flame.
A smile curled at Gem's lips. "Exactly. Here, Lizzie. Grab Jimmy's feet."
"What?"
"If we get them out of the house, they'll recover in about an hour."
Lizzie startled at a fork clattering to the floor behind her, but lifted Jimmy's feet while Gem took his hands. They did the same with Oli, depositing them both on the floor of the truck.
Gem dusted off her hands and tossed Lizzie a bottle of pills with a grin. "Let's get this investigation really going, shall we? Fortunately, most of our equipment is already inside. Here, take the smudge. Just need…" She scanned the wall, and grabbed a book with a pentagram emblazoned on the cover, and a bottle of salt. The weird lantern— a smudge, apparently— was thrust into Lizzie's hands along with a lighter. "There we go. Come on!"
Lizzie swallowed her nerves and followed Gem back into the house. She wrapped the chain around her hand, letting the smudge dangle as she watched Gem work. She opened the book to an empty page and left it on the floor, before poking at another piece of equipment until a field of green dots flooded the room.
"Can you check the temperature?" Gem asked.
"Sure… uh-" Lizzie scanned the kitchen, finding the thermometer thrown across the table. "It's… three degrees."
"Not freezing then." Gem stood and held out a black plastic box. "You want to do spirit box?"
Lizzie took it. "What's it do? Uh- Gem. W-where are you going? Why are you shutting the lights off?" she stammered as Gem breezed out of the room.
"You've got to be alone for spirit box! I'm right outside, don't worry. Just turn it on and ask it some questions."
The box let out bursts of static and blinking red and white lights. "Uh… what's your favourite colour?"
"Ask it where are you, are you here, are you old. Stuff like that!"
"Okay. Are you-" Lizzie shrieked at a spatula flying past her head. "Oh blummin heck! It's trying to kill me!"
"Oli! Jimmy!" Gem yelled from the doorway. "Stop it!"
A second spatula fell to the floor.
"That's what I thought," Gem smirked. "They can interact with some objects while they're unconscious like that."
"R-really? Why! I thought it was the ghost!"
"Nope. Keep trying the spirit box."
"Are you here? Are you- uh- near? Where are you?"
"Walk around a little," Gem suggested. Lizzie opened her mouth, and jumped at the tone of an off-tune piano down the hall. Gem rolled her eyes. "Oli!"
"W-where are you?" Lizzie said into the spirit box. The lights flashed white.
"I'm here."
"What was that?! Was that Jimmy? It sounded like Jimmy!"
"That was the ghost!" Gem grinned and stepped back in the room. She yelped and ducked at a plastic cup lobbed across the room. "And so was that!"
The cup threw itself again, a far cry from the velocity it just had. Gem just stared at it and huffed a laugh. "Now that was probably Jimmy."
"How do you know?"
"Weak and pathetic." Gem laughed as she ducked away from the flying cup again. "But actually, if they throw something it doesn't give off EMF. And look! Ghost writing!"
She pointed, and Lizzie turned at a scratching noise behind her, her eyes widening as the pen moved across the page of its own accord, then rolled across the floor when it fell.
"So our options are spirit, polty, mare, moroi, or deo," Gem said. "I checked for orbs already, so I don't think it's a mare. We'll just have to keep an eye on things."
On instinct, Lizzie ducked, and the same cup went soaring over her head. Gem shook her head in exasperation and emptied the bottle of salt over the floor, then clicked on an ultraviolet torch. They waited. The ghost burned through the first crucifix, then halfway through the second that Gem brought. Lizzie stared at the D.O.T.S. until her eyes crossed, dodging cups and plates and spatulas the entire time. Some were the ghost, yes, but most were clearly Oli or Jimmy being absolutely no help. She checked the thermometer, the EMF reader, eyes nervously flicking over the twisted metal on the floor.
At that same plastic cup bouncing off her head, Gem had enough. "Boys! If you're going to throw stuff and be nuisances, at least make yourselves useful and make a polty pile, please!"
That blummin' menace of cup was carefully placed on the floor, and a vast array of cutlery, kitchenware, and utensils piled up around it.
"Thank you," Gem sighed, then gasped. Lizzie whirled in place, clapping a hand over her mouth. Heavy, plodding footsteps stomped behind her, but there was no one there. Instead, Gem lunged for the disturbed pile of salt, a smile breaking across her face at the glow of footprints in the UV torch.
"Finally! We've got a-" Her triumphant tone turned into a shriek when Oli and Jimmy's pile of stuff exploded. Plates shattered against the wall, silverware clattered, and Lizzie dove behind the nearest chair. The crucifix burst into flame once again, and a heavy silence fell over the kitchen.
"Definitely a polty! Lizzie! Let's get out of here before it hunts!"
"Oh my gosh! Gem, this is horrifying!"
"We've got the ghost! Come on! We've just got to get out!"
Lizzie leaned out from behind the chair, her heart pounding as tightened her grip on the smudge and ran for Gem. She liked to think it had been a calm, confident walk, but Gem was kind enough not to point out that it was really a scamper. That same plastic cup fell past her face, and Lizzie stifled a squawk with a hand over her mouth.
"Oli!" Gem yelled. "Stop it!"
"Let me out of here!" Lizzie darted down the hall, weaving through the minefield of fallen decorations in the hall. She stayed directly behind Gem, eyes locked on the silhouette of the open door. The soft streetlight beyond, the truck— safety and ghost-free peace.
Gem slipped through the door, and that sanctuary disappeared when the door slammed behind her.
"Oh no! Lizzie, run! There's a hidey spot in the living room!"
"Where's the living room?!" Lizzie wailed, her heart pounding in her ears. Her torch flashed wildly in her hand. Surging and dimming while she spun in place, searching for anything to orient herself to. Something cracked against the ceiling. Lizzie shrieked at the sight of the flickering corpse shambling down the hall towards her.
"Lizzie!"
She didn't know what else to do. She flicked her lighter and lit the smudge, dropping her torch and scrambling into the nearest room. Coughing at the smoke, Lizzie fumbled through the darkness, bumping into furniture and nearly ending up sprawled on her face. All she could hear was her heartbeat and her own panicked breaths, and the footsteps pounding behind her.
Then, everything was cold and dark. A hand ran over her neck, and the next thing she knew, someone was singing. It was off tune and out of time, a cacophony of noise that made Lizzie wonder if she was actually dead.
She cracked her eyes open to a world shrouded in blue-tinged fog. She could make out the outlines of the furniture, including her own feet floating above her head. Apparently, she had fallen onto the sofa, as if she was taking a nap.
And, of course, Oli and Jimmy danced around her. She couldn't even make out what they were singing with how off time they were.
Lizzie groaned and covered her face with her hands. "You two are the blummin' worst!"