FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Ghostbusters: Frequencies

Chapter 1: Light in the dark.

Jared didn't like the subway; it was cold, crowded, smelled bad, and had a high chance of being full of pickpockets and other purse snatchers. Unfortunately, it was the only means of transportation in all of Chicago that could bring him on time to any of his appointments or band practices. The young man looked about 25 years old, with wild, half-curly, half-spiky raven hair and stubble growing on his cheeks. He was wearing his signature red T-shirt, a black leather jacket, army green pants and heavy boots.

He looked like a punk crossed with a biker, but he honestly couldn't care less what others thought about him. He had a job at a garage, fixing cars for a nice salary. Plus, the free time allowed him to regularly schedule band practice with his friends in an abandoned warehouse near the lake. He had just finished his shift and already his hands were itching to scratch his guitar, his body craving the familiar shivers of the beat pumping through him like a second heart, low and powerful. Today, though, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation, like he instinctively knew something big was going to happen very soon. Which was ridiculous, of course, since the day was almost over and nothing bad had ever happened on this regular trip from his job to his band.

Which meant, of course unbeknownst to him, that this was the perfect moment for something to happen. And happen it did.

Jared spotted a pair of familiar faces: it was the Mader siblings. Cassandra looked hassled, as always, with her frizzy fair hair looking like a bird's nest, whereas her brother, Johnathan, had almost no resemblance to her, save from the facial features and the constant brotherly bickering. The latter had straight red hair and freckles some would consider cute. He was tall and gangly where his sister was more on the short side. And while he was generally accepted everywhere as a friend almost immediately, Cassandra (who hates the nickname “Cassie") was… complicated. And that was an understatement of the same scale as “the universe is a young place".

Cassandra had apparently drawn the short straw when she was born, having a host of mental disorders, chief of which being her lack of ability to display emotion. Everything she said, everything she felt, she showed no sign whatsoever of anger, fear, happiness or sadness. Jared had noticed that when the Maders first came into his shop with their Chevrolet Silverado pick-up. Cassandra had acted like a robot that day, and it had unnerved him. Luckily, Johnathan had explained everything to him. Since then, both had become good friends and after a while, he came to like Cassandra as well. Currently, both were working in the same university, though in different domains. She was an expert in advanced theoretical quantum physics and he was an electronics engineer.

Smiling, Jared started to walk over to them, to say hi and how are you, when all of a sudden, the lights shut down and the subway grinded to a halt in a shower of sparks. The intercom buzzed to life with the train conductor reassuring the passengers, stating that it was probably just a power outage and that they will be receiving an update very shortly. “Great, it had to happen today." Thought Jared bitterly.

“Next time I'll actually take the bike…" He was so lost in his dark thoughts that he failed to notice the faint trembling of the sub, until it was actually rocking back and forth, trembling, groaning like it had suddenly come to life. The other passengers started to scream and panic, some clinging on to the handrails, others prying the doors open.

“Come on!" Jared cried to Cassandra and Johnathan, rallying them to help him. With their help, Jared managed to open the doors of the sub, helping people to evacuate to the nearby North/Clybourn station. “Come on, let's move people, get to the station!" The trio stayed behind to help everyone escape, but suddenly the doors closed in front of them, trapping them inside the wagon. Jared and Johnathan kicked the doors, trying to break them down. Cassandra pushed the button for direct contact with an operator on the emergency line, but nobody answered. Out of nowhere, a blinding light inside the cabin appeared, forcing them to shield their eyes before getting adjusted. The sight before them was nightmarish and surreal, to say the least.

A green mist leaked into the train, already ankle height but slowly elevating, and it was attacked by blue flames being shot by… by a…

A ghost.

All subway's prisoners' eyes were looking at him, wide in terror. It almost looked like it was throwing punches in the mist. Every so often, a tendril would snake out and grab one of the blue ghost's arms, but it easily shook it off and continued its relentless assault. Soon, the mist's level was slowly lowering, and the blue ghost, sensing its victory, redoubled its efforts, resulting in bigger flames and fireballs. Just when it was about to deliver the final blow, three brilliant arcs of light shot out of the darkness and hit the blue ghost squarely in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Jared, Cassandra and Johnathan, as though waking up from a spell, turned to see three figures, in their tan jumpsuits, running up to the subway car's wreck, all firing their weapons. Only when they were pounding at the door and still restraining the ghost through the windows did the trio recognize the new arrivals.

They were the Ghostbusters.

“Is anyone in here?" one of them called out. He had a swimmer's build with short, dirty blond hair and a matching goatee. His name tag read Max F.

“Yeah, me and my friends over there! Could you help us out?" Jared asked him.

“Stand back!" was the response; shortly after, the sub doors flew open with a bang, and the three bystanders could at last run out. Meanwhile, seeing his two colleagues handled the blue ghost easily, Max used his right-hand proton pistol to ensnare the green mist, while fetching a cylinder trap on his utility belt with his left hand. The trap was activated, and soon the two paranormal entities were sucked into the beams of light generated by the trap, which closed behind with a snap and a small beep, leaving only deafening silence. Jared leaned forwards, hands on his knees, suddenly breathless. The three Ghostbusters turned to them and asked if they were alright.

“Yeah, we'll be… gasp… fine" sputtered Johnathan.

“Good, could you guys please follow us back to our base? We'd like to check you over, see if that smoke had any lasting effects on your body and mind." Said the second Ghostbuster, a caramel-colored guy named Chadwick.

“Plus, you know, see if we hit you or not with our equipment, to tally up the points" the third one added, a burly Viking with red braided hair and an equally braided beard called Viktor.

“Viktor! What did we discuss about collateral damage?" reprimanded Max.

Viktor then looked ashamed, like a kid being told off for eating cookies between meals, and promptly mumbled “sorry" before picking up the trap and joining his friend Chadwick on the tracks leading away from the station. Soon both were laughing together, all traces of guilt seemingly evaporated.

“You'll have to excuse him; his sense of humor can come off as a little… mean sometimes. But he does mean well" apologized Max.

“Duly noted", replied Cassandra in her monotonous voice. Jared and Max both jumped at the sound of her voice, since the way she said it had seemed so foreign to them. In fact, Jared realized, it was the first time Cassandra had spoken since the accident occurred.

“Are… you okay miss?" asked Max dubiously.

“Sorry about that, my sister has a condition called Reduced Affect Display syndrome; she basically can't express any emotion" chimed in Johnathan.

“O…kay then. Odd condition to have, but given the field I work in, odd has become my new normal." Max said, with a side glance at Cassandra. “On that note, I think I did read a paper about this. Something like the effects of PTSD on human psychology… Sorry, I'm just rambling at this point" Max said, shaking his head with a rueful smile. “Come on, follow me, we'll be getting out through the North/Clybourn station."

“What about the other two? Viktor and Chadwick?" asked Jared.

“They'll be taking the trap and the Ecto-15D back at the warehouse. We'll be walking there, but it's only a short distance away. We were on a routine inspection of a supposedly haunted place – probably just another prank call – when we heard a disturbance in the subway. With our PKE meter going berserk, we just knew we had to investigate." Max started to recount as they made their way back to the surface. “So, could I have your names?"

“Sure, I'm Jared, and this is Johnathan and Cassandra. They're siblings."

“I'm Max Farnell, leader of the Chicago Ghostbusters, and the other two were Chadwick Bichente and Viktor Leifsonn. Though you probably saw our name tags, so I don't know why I sometimes bother." From there, Max fell silent, only guiding them towards the small warehouse that was built between two streets, looking old but refurbished to serve as the headquarters of the CGB.

“So, this is where you operate. What's the voltage input of the facility?" asked Cassandra.

“If she asks questions, that means she's really interested" piped up Johnathan

“Johnathan, if someone asks questions, that usually means they are interested. I don't need a translator, I'm not disabled." She snarked back, still monotonously. As the bickering started anew, Max turned to Jared: “Does that happen a lot?" as though he should be worried.

“Take it from me, Max, the bigger and pettier the bicker, the better they feel. You know… siblings." Jared shrugged back.

“Must have been nice, though, growing up with one. I was a single child, and it wasn't as fun. Anyways, welcome to Ghostbusters HQ!" he said, opening the doors to the warehouse. The Ecto-15D, a heavily modified Ram pick-up with two tanks in the back along with racks of bizarre equipment, was on an elevated platform, with Viktor's body underneath it, tinkering and grunting in a very masculine way. Meanwhile, Chadwick was busy smoking cigarettes and eating a sandwich. The trap was in the containment unit, already being processed.

“Wow, quite an efficient team you have here." said Johnathan, impressed.

“Truth be told, our team used to be twice as large. Karen handled calls, Dominic used to refurbish the equipment and Monica took care of all the administrative nightmares." Chadwick admitted.

“What happened to them? Did they quit?" asked Jared.

“No, and that's the weirdest thing: they all loved their jobs, but one day they just vanished. No traces, no leads, none had a stalker or anything, they're just… gone."

“Chadwick had been dating Monica for almost a year." Added Max.

“Sorry to burst in like this, but did anyone think to check their homes for paranormal activity?" asked Johnathan.

At this, Chadwick's face suddenly got dark and menacing, and he jumped down from his desk to march straight up to the unfortunate twin, flicking his cigarette away and pointing his right index finger at him. It would almost seem comical, were it not for the ominous context.

“Who do you think you are, huh? Are you implying we don't know how to do our jobs? OF COURSE WE CHECKED! And guess what? NOTHING! So, quit being a wise-ass and get your ass over here!" Chadwick screamed, motioning to some sort of body scanner, one typically used by the TSA at the airport.

Wide-eyed, Johnathan quickly moved inside the scanner, impressed by the man's yelling, while Viktor finally rolled back from under the Ecto-15D with a tight-lipped expression on his face. In fact, now that Jared thought about it, he could see the tension between the three busters; their shoulders were hunched up, their movements were like staccato, but more importantly they looked tired.

Across the room, near the entrance, the tall door eased open and sunlight spilled in from outside, outlining a silhouette in silver. The figure was a small boy, no more than ten or twelve. His black hair had a small streak of blue in the bangs.

“Excuse me, but is this the Ghostbusters?" The boy asked. Viktor spotted him and lowered the Ecto-15D from the raised platform, motioning for the boy to come closer.

Cassandra, looking bored, started to ask Max about the performances of the facility while he tried to arrange some paperwork. That left Jared to explore the warehouse on his own. His eyes were immediately fixed upon the large, firetruck-red containment unit, and he felt as if drawn towards it by some unknown force. He barely noticed when the young boy and Viktor left the place, with the Viking muttering a “I'll be back soon" and grabbing a spare trap and proton blaster before running after the kid. “Probably just a small emergency" noted Jared in the back of his head. But before long, he felt himself take another step towards the containment unit… then another… and another…

“Hey! Careful with that, it's very delicate!" Jared snapped out of his reverie at Chadwick's call, who had just finished scanning Johnathan for ghosts (“No ghosts. You're fine. And… sorry about earlier" he had muttered). Surprised, Jared turned around to see Chadwick beckoning him in the scanner, where he took place, shaking his head as though to clear it. The glass door closed in front of him, enclosing him in a transparent cylinder about three feet wide. From there, he could see Johnathan smiling at him and teasing him with deaf gestures, while Cassandra and Max still talked, Chadwick still operated the machine and the little boy from earlier wandered about.

A sudden thought struck Jared: “Hey kid! Where's Viktor?" But the glass cylinder must have been soundproofed, because nobody seemed to hear what he said. Johnathan frowned and mouthed back “What?" Jared repeated himself, while exaggerating the gestures with his mouth, to make himself understood. At last, Johnathan seemed to catch on, because he looked around as well, hoping to see the big burly Viking. But, no dice. So he went after the kid and tried to ask him directly. Chadwick then opened the tube, saying “All clear, now for the last…"

“Viktor isn't here, is that normal?" Jared then asked point-blank.

“Viktor? Wasn't he with that kid who came in earlier?"

“You mean that kid over there?" replied Jared, worriedly. Chadwick looked at the kid, then his eyes went wide. He grabbed a PKE meter from a nearby shelf and pointed it at the little boy: it went haywire. Both men looked at each other before Chadwick reached for his pack, and Jared ran to Max.

“Max! Grab your pack, it's the kid!"

“What are you talking about?" asked Max, confused. But one look at the situation unfolding in front of him brought him up to speed immediately. He grabbed the last remaining proton pistol and took aim at the kid. Johnathan, who had been speaking with him and telling him about himself, suddenly looked up as Chadwick's pack roared to life, and he could see both Ghostbusters were aiming at him.

“Whoa, hey, don't shoot, I'm clean, you scanned me five minutes ago!" he cried, raising his hands.

“Don't panic, Johnathan, but step away from the ghost! Now!" Max replied.

“Ghost, what ghost? I don't see any…" he trailed off, as he just realized, the proton weapons weren't trained ON him, but next to him… specifically, the little boy - with grey eyes. Johnathan, suddenly very intimidated, slowly backed away with his arms still raised. The two remaining Ghostbusters still aimed at the boy, with every intent on shooting him straight to hell, but Max instead asked “Why? Why do you want us out of the picture?"

“Didn't figure it out yet? Shame. But maybe someone will… eventually, if there's anyone left."

“STEP AWAY FROM THE CONTAINMENT UNIT! Cassandra, hand me a trap, the one that looks like a disk. It's our most powerful one, it can surely hold him." Chadwick ordered in a firm tone. Cassandra had already found the trap he requested, but as she passed next to Jared and her twin brother, the boy suddenly extended his arm.

“I think not." He said, eyes narrowing as all three of the bystanders were paralyzed.

“NO!" Max dropped his proton pistol and reached for the trap, while Chadwick opened fire, a white arc lancing forth and almost hitting the ghost, who simply took a step aside like a well-trained dancer. The boy extended his arm again and focused on a small point behind Chadwick. The ground suddenly started to rumble, causing Chadwick to lose his balance and cease fire. Max tried desperately to pry the trap from Cassandra's hands, which remained locked, and after a couple futile attempts, dove for another trap in front of the Ram pickup. The ground opened up beneath the front wheels of the truck, which started to slide in the rapidly widening gap.

Max lost his footing, and hit his head on the front bender of the Ecto-15D, knocking himself unconscious, while Chadwick, still throwing his arms in a circle to prevent a fall, started to tip backwards. A sudden realization hit him; he wasn't going to make it. As his body fell backwards, almost in slow-motion, he cast one last look at the trio before being swallowed by the rift, followed closely by his unconscious chief and shortly after, the whole pickup, which started to wail as the car alarm went off. The sound grew fainter and fainter… and the chasm just sealed itself back off, showing no traces whatsoever of ever having existed in the first place.

The grey-eyed boy lowered his hand and exhaled, as though finishing an intense gym exercise. Each soul he trapped brought him relief, but it also felt as though it was taking more out of him. Looking up, he noticed the bystanders just looking at him, eyes wide, Johnathan's arms still raised and Cassandra still holding the super-trap. “Don't worry yourselves, they aren't dead, and I have no need for you. Though, I do have one last task to accomplish before moving on to… other prey." He said, smiling with all his teeth. Somehow, he managed to make this simple act look predatory, like a shark ready to eat.

Turning on his heels, he then moved, unhindered, to the containment unit. After a short examination, his fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, unlocking several codes. One by one, lights on the system turned from green to red before the boy then reached for a big lever, pulling it with all his might. After a couple of tries, the switch finally came down, starting a low blaring alarm and a red flashing light, while a synthetic voice spoke: “WARNING: Power Fault. Battery backup engaged."

Jared, who could still think and feel everything, silently whooped. At least the containment unit would be safe, since only the Ghostbusters knew the codes. And wherever they were, they certainly weren't here to give them to that boy, not that they ever would. “Looks like your plan failed! Guess you didn't account for this small detail, huh, you little…" he thought, silently taunting him.

“What is it that humans say? Patience is a virtue?" The little boy replied to his thoughts. He turned back to Jared, waving a hand and the sound of the alarm muffled, “The Ghostbusters haven't been banished to some distant dimension or erased from existence. That wouldn't be twisting the knife enough. I trapped them… You could almost say I'm a Ghostbuster trap. I was born when all the spirits that were caught, all the ghosts that wanted a little bit of revenge on their captors started to collectively wish for precisely that. As such, I became the ultimate form for capturing Ghostbusters. After all, who would suspect a poor, innocent little boy who's scared of the big bad ghost?" He struck a pose of a cute little boy, but Jared knew that was just an exterior, a façade, a mask. “Some of them have weaker minds than others, a few let me extract memories from their heads. In this case I do have those passwords."

As he turned back to the flashing containment unit, Jared could only silently scream no, almost kicking and fighting in his head, much like in the subway earlier that day, when everything started to go wrong. Yet he was powerless to do anything, except watch as the boy input one, then another, and a final password, all accepted in the machine as the synthetic voice suddenly came back to announce “Override accepted. Containment unit powering down…"

The cylinder trap, used by the CGB in the subway, and still in its socket, started to vibrate, clanging and banging before suddenly shooting backwards as a tornado of ghosts flew out, out of the containment unit and out of the warehouse, free at last. None of them paid Jared or the siblings any attention, and after a couple of seconds which seemed like it lasted an eternity, all of the Ghostbusters handiwork was undone. The grey-eyed boy simply stood there, eyes closed, apparently basking in the pleasure of having completed his mission. “And now, to thank the other players in this part." He said.

“It's not over!?" thought Jared incredulously. “When will this nightmare stop?"

Once again, the boy responded to his thoughts: “It has barely begun for you!" Two new pinpricks of light appeared in the trap port of the machine, one blue and one green. “I do believe you know these two, but have never been introduced to each other. May I present to you, the Ghost of the Oracle" he said, as he gestured towards a familiar green mist leaking out copiously from the containment unit, “and its executioner-“

“MAESTRO, the composer of Chaos!" a thunderous voice interrupted him.

And once again, the nightmare started for the bystanders. This time, though, they were unable to do anything and could only watch in pure, unadulterated terror as a figure rose from the blue light.

He looked oddly human, even by ghost standards. His long blue hair ended like flames, his head looked like a cross between a skull and a normal face, and even if there were no flames at the end of his claw-tipped hands, Jared could feel the heat radiating off him. His chest was covered in a facsimile of Jared's leather jacket, as though mocking his style and giving it a demonic twist with metal spikes on the shoulders. His legs, long and sickly thin, feet ending in raptor-like talons, were also visible, unlike some ghosts which were so see-through from the waist down that one couldn't see anything at all. But Maestro seemed to want to stand out from the average ghost. A malevolent blue aura pulsed from his body. In fact, the specter's presence radiated hate, chaos and anguish. It felt like standing in the midst of ten revolutions personified in a devilish presence.

“And I have you to thank, my friend, for executing flawlessly my plan. Thanks to you, the Chicago Busters won't be around to bother us anymore." Maestro remarked. Even his voice dripped with something perverse, as though his words couldn't be trusted. But to Jared, however, it did seem familiar…

“Our deal is complete, Maestro. You will not likely see me here again" The boy said, turning to walk toward the door. With each step he became more intangible until he was gone. With the boy gone, Jared could suddenly move again, and with all the fighting in his head, tumbled forward, along with Cassandra and Johnathan. The sudden movement caught Maestro's eyes, and he turned to them gleefully.

“I suppose I should also thank you for my triumph, since you were useful as a distraction" he taunted, extending his hand as though expecting it to be shaken. Johnathan looked at it incredulously, then burst out laughing. It sounded fragile, though, and more hysterical than sincere.

“What, you… you really think we'd ever help a creepo like you?" Johnathan said, once he managed to get a grip on his sanity.

“No, I didn't expect as much from a small whelp like you." Maestro snorted disdainfully. “But you, on the other hand" he continued, turning to Jared, “I expected so much better from you. After all, we're practically family!" he finished with a cruel smile.

“Jared, what is he talking about?" asked Cassandra. Her monotone was what snapped Jared back to reality, as he muttered back “He's lying, don't listen to him!" and the little group backed away from the ghost. As the latter was about to advance on the group again, grin still plastered on his face, he noticed the green smoke – the Oracle, as the grey-eyed boy had called it – had slowly crawled away and almost made it to a sewer grate. But Maestro, quick as a flash, brought his hands down in the middle of it, in a seemingly final blow that immobilized the smoke. He laughed: “Not so tough now, are you? And now, for the kill…" He stomped on the smoke, and from the impact point green strands of the Oracle started to turn blue and disintegrate. He tuned towards the group again and simply stated “If you ever try to stop me… You're next!" before flying out the open door, leaving them and the writhing, twisting spirit of the Oracle, his laughter echoing up and down the deserted streets.

“What do we do?" asked Johnathan.

“There's nothing we can do, let's get out of here before…" as Cassandra was speaking, she suddenly interrupted herself, and placed her hands on her ears.

“Uh… what are you doing?" Jared spoke. “This isn't the time to-“

“…the pain… Make it stop…" she muttered.

Both men looked at each other, slightly confused but mostly worried. This day had been bad, and it was only getting worse. So they both grabbed her hands and dragged her out, still mumbling about “the pain", out of the Ghostbusters' HQ…

…and straight into a police blockade. About a dozen cars, each with a couple officers standing behind the open doors like shields with their guns raised, and one of them with a megaphone, ordering them to “get on the ground with both hands behind your heads!"

The trio halted at the sight, before complying slowly, with big gestures of surrender. Thankfully, Cassandra had snapped out of whatever trance she had been into, so they all appeared as normal people and not dangerous psychopaths. As they were lowering themselves on their knees, though, a loud shriek could be heard from inside the office and the roof suddenly blew up as a dense green smoke billowed out, with some edges turning blue. It writhed, twisting in a grotesque way before disappearing into the sunlight. Everyone on the ground was fixated on the point where the Oracle disappeared, until a pair of officers came forward with handcuffs, gripping both men and cuffing them while stating “You are under arrest."

---

A couple weeks later, and all three of them were cleared. It wasn't hard to prove their innocence, since after all, it was the first time they had been inside the headquarters (thank goodness for CCTV, although despite their best efforts the police were still looking for the boy. At this point Jared was through trying to explain them the situation and left them to their wild goose chase), but they were all scheduled regular counseling to “help them cope with the problem". As if this would actually help the Ghostbusters come back.

Jared now had to stop every Wednesday and Saturday at Dr. Feldspath's office, along with the Mader siblings. And every time, Jared felt like he was wasting his time, dealing with an incompetent. Maybe it was harsh of him to think that, maybe Dr. Feldspath was a newbie in the field of psychoanalysis, but given that he was about 50 years old and didn't seem to give any sort of crap about their predicament, Jared wasn't so inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. Take for example…

“So, Jared, welcome back. I suppose you're still feeling unsure about those whole events."

“You know me, Doc" groaned Jared, “Sure, I may have seen and heard it all, but, you know, maybe it was just my overactive imagination or some bullshit like this!"

“Good, good, we're making progress! So, you feel as though everything that happened was merely your imagination…" the doctor continued, noting along on his little notepad.

“Wait, what? Doctor, forgive me for being so frank with you, but do you actually know how to do your work? Or, for that matter, to even detect irony?"

“Thank you for asking me that question! Yes, I've done over thirty years of psychoanalysis, helping people understand that those ghosts they think they see are not real."

“Wha- but- THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE GHOSTBUSTERS DISAPPEARING THROUGH THE FUCKING FLOOR?" exploded Jared.

“Come, now, did you ever see anyone disappear through the floor before?" aksed the doctor placidly.

Jared merely slapped his hand on his face, dragging it down in a gesture clearly indicating fatigue.

“There, you see? Maybe you were just tired, or had too much to drink, and you experienced hallucinations! There's always a rational explanation to whatever is going on in the world. Besides, I really don't fancy those Ghostbusters, doing who knows what with… dangerous equipment." The doctor sneered at the news report on the wall, replaying again the news story that the Ghostbusters have mysteriously vanished without leaving a trace.

“I have to go, doctor Feldspath." declared Jared abruptly. “I just realized I have an appointment with a client about their car, and I really don't want to miss it." As he said so, he picked up his jacket from the coat hanger and donned it.

“But what about our appointment? We have barely begun this session! I still have to charge for the full hour" The doctor protested.

“I'm really sorry, and I will make it up to you next time. But for now, I really don't want to lose my… my job." He finished lamely. He had thought of his sanity at first, but thankfully saved it at the last second.

“Good boy." At that, the doctor seemed pleased, and returned to his desk to file some papers, leaving Jared to exit the office, and find the two persons he wanted to see the most right outside the building.

“Ah, perfect timing you guys."

“Yeah, perfect for doctor Rock." Snarked back Johnathan unenthusiastically. Clearly, the incident had impacted them big time, and the counseling wasn't helping at all.

“Doctor Rock? What do you mean?" Jared quizzed back, confused.

“Feldspath is a specific silica-based igneous mineral found in the Earth's crust." Cassandra supplied. As usual, she looked as though she had missed a couple nights' sleep, but still remained as deadpan as always.

“Thanks, Wikipedia. I actually call him that simply because he lulls me to sleep with all those ridiculous ideas of his. Anyway, we had the next appointment booked, after you. So… Why aren't you up there?" inquired Johnathan.

“Well, I pre-texted a job emergency to get out of this hellhole. Apparently, I must have been on drugs or alcohol because I have experienced 'visions' " replied Jared, complete with a loony gesture to sell the illusion.

“Wait, you could just walk out? Why didn't anybody tell me sooner?" the former complained.

“Actually, could you guys help me out? I want to check out the CGB headquarters, and see if we missed any details."

“The police did a thorough sweep of the area, so did forensics and the FBI. What makes you believe we'll be able to see something they didn't?" Cassandra intoned.

“Simple. They weren't there the day of the accident, so of course they wouldn't know where to look. Besides… I can't stop this feeling, deep inside of me…" Jared mused.

“Girl you just don't realize what you do to me?" piped up Johnathan. Jared just looked at him incredulously, before laughing a bit, catching on that he had completed the verse of the song. Jared was glad he had Johnathan with him right now. Even through the worst scenarios, he sometimes relied on his humor to alleviate the stress. That little joke had made him feel way better than all the previous sessions with Dr. Feldspath.

“Good one mate! But in all seriousness, yeah, maybe we'll find a clue."

“But a clue to what?" challenged Cassandra.

“I don't know." That simple response made a short silence weigh over the group… Before Cassandra relented: “Truthfully, I wanted to go back as well. I also have a strange feeling… What we're looking for has got to be in there." And with that, the pair started walking towards the river, leaving Johnathan behind, mouth agape in confusion, before he muttered “Well shit." And catching up with his friend and his sister.

---

Twenty minutes later, the trio arrived at the warehouse, which still retained its status as a crime scene, complete with yellow police tape and barricades blocking the street. Fortunately, not a single officer was in sight, so they managed to slip inside without too much trouble. Once inside, they split off without a word, Jared to check out the spot where the boy had ripped apart the ground to swallow the Ghostbusters whole, Johnathan to study the containment unit, and Cassandra at the small office area next to the garage entrance.

Jared looked at the ground, next to the elevating platform. Nothing, not a trace, no fracture, no blood stains, it really did look as though they had vanished without a trace. Jared thought back to what the doctor had said: “just an illusion, a hallucination, your overactive imagination" before banishing these thoughts back to the dark corner of his mind. He needed to focus on what he was doing. But what was he supposed to find here? Maybe Cassandra had been right the first time, and everything that could be found had been. Then why did he have this feeling that he was missing something vitally important?

“Hey, man, check this out!" came Johnathan's voice. He sounded excited, So Jared hurried towards him.

“What did you find?"

“This containment unit is actually only the tip of the iceberg! And I mean that literally! Look" he pointed at the wall to the side of the containment unit, where a handle could be seen. Jared tugged, and the side panel slid easily, revealing some stairs leading down to a small sheltered wooden dock. Moored to the dock was a small boat, painted white with the Ghostbusters logo and tricked out with dozens of sirens and beacons. “Woah! Hey Cassandra, check it out, there's an Aqua-Ecto!" Cassandra merely looked up and nodded before looking back at the computer screen she was so engrossed in. “And see those tubes on the back of the warehouse?" Johnathan pointed to Jared. The latter nodded, but not having an advanced degree in science, he couldn't figure out what those tubes were meant for. “Those are water cooling pipes! The Ghostbusters used the canal to prevent the containment unit from overheating and get free hot water at the same time! “

“Huh, that is pretty nifty, I gotta say. In fact, the whole thing seems to be underwater." Jared pointed out a large red object just under the surface, which seemed to be a direct continuation of the tank in the small area they stood in.

“Dude, that is impressive. No wonder they have so much money, with all the savings they're generating from such a genius solution." The young engineer mused.

“I wouldn't be so sure, brother," Cassandra's voice floated back to them. Reluctantly, the pair closed the jetty behind them and made their way back to the office. Cassandra was gazing intently at a computer screen, which held detailed reports of each case they had solved, and all the financial transactions that happened in the last few years. “Over the last two years, they have been overextending themselves, taking jobs outside of Chicago for extra income. But that extra income was immediately swiped by taxes and increased licensing fees. That genius solution is the only thing standing between them and bankruptcy"

“Wait, how did you get inside the computer? We don't have the passwords!"

“I memorized the last password the boy put in. It happened to be Max's password." Damn, thought Jared, she can be so scary when she wants. Like frickin' Terminator or something. But she's in, and maybe I can put this whole thing to rest. For the next two hours, all three of them looked through the various files on the server, learning how the different machines (like the proton blasters, and the ghost traps). And still Jared found nothing of particular interest. Frustrated, he blew a large sigh out of his mouth before logging off and declaring “this is futile! After all this time, we still haven't found anything!"

“Well you didn't exactly specify what we had to be looking for. Besides, this was your idea!" Johnathan shot back. At that, Jared merely harrumph-ed and stomped towards the exit.

“where are you going?" inquired Cassandra.

“Band practice."

“…Are you SERIOUS? We're investigating the disappearance of the Chicago Ghostbusters, and you're going to BAND PRACTICE?" Johnathan cried.

“Yes. Anyone got a problem with that?" Jared retorted in a perfectly level voice.

“Uh, try me, Cassandra, and maybe THE WHOLE DAMN CITY OF CHICAGO THAT HAS BEEN OVERRUN BY GHOSTS!! Honestly, I'm wondering if you even give a fuck about the situation."

Jared's only response was a quick jab to the face. Blood spurted from the nose as Johnathan groaned in pain. Cassandra still hadn't moved from her place, and observed the scene with her nonplussed face.

“WHAD WAZ DAD VOR!?" Johnathan screamed through his bloody nose.

Jared threw a withering look at Johnathan, but didn't say anything. Then he turned his back on them and stomped away, leaving both siblings to look after the warehouse.

---

As Jared rode through the Chicago transit system, he couldn't help but feel guilty for punching Johnathan in the face. He was a good man, sometimes a goofball. But this time, even though his motives weren't selfish, he had gone too far. Band practice had been part of his childhood since he was 12. And it had really helped with all the bullying he had received at school. Whenever he felt down, all Jared needed to do was play a few songs on his guitar, and once he was drenched in sweat, he could feel the cathartic effect taking place, like he had actually beaten the crap out of those bullies. He didn't feel any happier, just… calmer, more serene.

Finally, Jared arrived at the docks near the lake. The sight of the crumbling warehouse his bandmates usually hung out in reminded him with a twisting feeling in the gut of the Ghostbuster warehouse he had abandoned. He didn't want to abandon his friends, but the only way he could cope with the frustration was with a guitar. His features contorted with rage as he punched the wall with a loud grunt. It wasn't fair. Then again, he thought angrily, life hadn't been fair to him in the first place. He stood there, breathing heavily for a couple of seconds, before a sudden sound made him turn his head around.

Apparently, his rage fit hadn't gone unnoticed.

“Man, if I know you, and trust me when I say I know you more than you know me, I'd say you are angry."

The new arrival wore denim pants, denim shoes, denim jacket, had dark skin and dreadlocks, a rasta hat to match his Jamaican accent, and was probably the most infuriating person to ever be right about something. He also happened to be the band's bass, second guitar, singer, impresario if needed… and Jared's childhood friend, Mark.

“Well, dood, if you knew me better than I know you, and not the other way around, you'd know why I am here and already have the door open."

Mark simply smiled and pushed the rusted iron door, swinging it open with ease. “Puh-lease, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't do exactly that when I know you desperately need it? Your weapon of choice awaits you." He gestured inside to a small stage, set up with several instruments including a drum kit, two electric guitars, a bass, a synthesizer and an electric violin. The mikes were ready, and everything had been tuned to perfection. Jared merely nodded to Mark, which between them was the same as profound gratitude, and both headed inside to grab their guitars.

“So, what do you want to play?"

“Linkin' Park, What I've done." Came Jared's response immediately.

And so, they played, Jared as hard as he could, until his fingers were sore, red and swollen, and his voice hoarse. They both stopped, Jared wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, panting but feeling at ease.

“Damn, son, judging by the aggressive notes and chords, you really had a lot to clear your mind of." Mark remarked.

Jared knew better than to contradict him. After all, he was right when he said he knew Jared better than the other way around. Instead, after drinking a bit to regain the use of his vocal chords, he asked “Did you hear about the Ghostbusters?"

“Yeah, I heard." Mark responded shortly. Nothing else came, so Jared turned to see Mark looking at him with an expecting stare. “Must have been hard to watch." Mark finally let out.

“You don't know the half of it. HE was there." This time Mark finally raised his eyebrows. In all their time together, he never did that, except for life-threatening situations.

“Holy shit man" he said, all traces of easy-going gone from his voice. “No wonder… How long has it been? Almost-“

“A decade. All those years and no sign of him. I was ready to turn the page…"

“… but at the same time, you weren't." Again, Mark knew him so well that he hit right on target every time. Jared sighed.

“How could I?" Suddenly a buzzing sound could be heard over the silence that ensued. It was Jared's phone, and the caller ID was Johnathan. At first a fresh wave of anger swelled within him as he remembered the incredulous tone Johnathan took when he left. But it was quelled immediately when he also remembered he punched him. With a forgiving look to Mark, who waved him off, Jared answered the phone.

“Hey, Johnathan, listen, I'm sorry I punched you, I wasn't thinking straight, and-“

“We found something. You'll want to see this." Johnathan interrupted.

“What about?"

“… it's probably best if you just come over."

“I'm on my way." Jared hung up and looked apologetically to Mark. “I gotta go, could you tell the others?"

“Like you needed to ask."

Jared shot him back a meek but grateful smile, and turned away to leave his best friend so he could help another one. He really does know me well, thought Jared idly.

---

As Jared ran through the police tape back into the Ghostbuster's office, Johnathan and Cassandra both looked up from the screen. They had been playing some recordings made by Max before he had disappeared. Johnathan's nose still had a bit of dried-up blood, but it didn't appear as though there was any real damage, so Jared breathed an inward sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was to alienate Johnathan.

“What did you find?" he asked directly.

Johnathan led him to another computer, with a list on screen.

“What is that?"

“It's a list of all the ghosts that have been captured." Johnathan replied.

“Oh. And why would that be interesting?"

Johnathan just shook his head and pointed to a particular entry:

CLASS IV ANCHORED APPARITION DESIGNATED “DOCTOR FELDSPATH", CAPTURED AT HIS OLD OFFICE.

“Then that would explain his odd behavior! No wonder he didn't like the Ghostbusters." Jared deduced.

“I found something else" replied Cassandra. She set back the recording she had been listening to, and amplified the volume so both could hear Max's message.

“If you are watching this, then first that means we, as a team, failed to stop the incoming menace. I'm not blind. I noticed the other franchises started to fall silent, and the PKE signatures running wild. But, for the sake of our team, I kept it under wraps. No need for them to know what is going on, I want them at their full capacity. There are times, though… where I wonder, was it worth it?" There was a beat, and Jared could almost see him rubbing his eyes in a tired way. “Karen and Dominic haven't been answering their calls, and I can only assume the worst. Which brings me back to you, whoever you are. You clearly know more about us than we realize, and we need your help, now more than ever, to stop whatever is coming. I know I am asking to put a lot on the line, endangering yourselves, entrusting you with volatile equipment, but this isn't just about taking up the mantle of a Ghostbuster simply because there aren't any left. It's about doing the right thing, helping people face their fears, give them hope, even in the simplest form of an answer to that very popular question: Who are you going to call?" At this, everyone smirked, with tears in their eyes. It was a damn good speech indeed, and Jared could almost believe it wasn't a prerecorded message, but Max speaking from wherever he was. “Enclosed in the same folder are detailed schematics of all the necessary tools a Ghostbuster uses, and for the braver and smarter ones, the theoretical science behind it. You'll see it's not exactly rocket science. But I have faith in you. Max out."

---

After the message had played out, all three investigators were dumbfounded. They were literally tasked with replacing the original team. And for some, that didn't sit well.

“I'm telling you, we are not ready for this. I agree we should at least tell someone, maybe even call Ghostbusters HQ in New York, but what Max is asking is essentially suicide!" Johnathan was frantically pacing the floor, trying to justify his position.

“And you were telling me earlier that I backed out for selfish reasons! Johnathan, listen to yourself!"

“That was different! I only wanted to find out more about what was happening, not get dragged into this mess!"

“These guys saved our lives back in the subway, and this is the thanks they get? A coward backing off because he's scared of ghosts?" countered Jared angrily.

“I ain't afraid of no ghosts! But what I am afraid of is leaving behind my life and my sister!"

“Johnathan, I can take care of myself" said Cassandra.

“You say you can, but the others won't let you! I'm trying to protect you, Cassandra!"

“You mean others like yourself? Let her breathe, let her live a little on her own."

Johnathan whirled on Jared and almost punched him, before restraining himself. He might have been tall, but he certainly wasn't strong enough to take Jared head-on.

“Brother, I know you mean well, but sometimes… I feel like you're more of a hindrance than an assistance." And even though she couldn't modulate her voice, there was undeniably something like affection and regret in those words. And that seemed to calm her brother down.

“…fine. But moving back on the topic, I still say it's dangerous, and we should let the professionals handle the situation."

“What professionals? By the time the other franchises actually manage to send someone to help, Chicago might become a ghost town, LITERALLY!"

“Jared is right," said Cassandra. “We need to act now."

“Two against one. Look, Johnathan, I don't like this anymore than you, but you heard what Max said. He's counting on us to take a stand and take back the city."

“D'OOOOOH fine! And where do we start?"

Cassandra suggested: “How about the doctor?"

A few minutes later, all three self-appointed Ghostbusters were geared up for paranormal combat, in spare, nameless jumpsuits (some of which, Jared noted, smelled weird…) and they were running to the doctor's address.

“Wait, what if he has company? You know what, this is a terrible idea, let's do this another time…" Johnathan started to complain, and actually started to turn around to leave.

“You were the one who pointed out the fact that he was a ghost in the first place! Why do you want to back out now with such a flimsy excuse?" Jared hissed back, bringing him back by the neck of his suit.

“Boys, zip it, and prepare to fire, just like Max told us." Cassandra interrupted them.

All of them drew out their proton lances, still getting used to the weight of the pack. Jared fumbled with the small levers but managed to flip the correct one and felt the pack roar to life. It was like hearing a small, constant note being magnified through a personal amplifier strong enough to resonate through his whole body. It wasn't a band… but it'll do. The three slowly crept up on the ghost's door, and after nodding to each other, burst into the room, ready to fire. The doctor's reaction, however, surprised them.

“Ah, there you are. What's with all the racket?" he said, as though they were nothing much but rowdy partygoers coming in late.

“Huh?" “What the…" the Ghostbusters were confused for a second, but remembered why they were here and Johnathan, despite all the complaining, spoke first: “Give it up, doctor Rock! We got you cornered, put your hands where we can see them!"

“Oh my, young fellow, you seem to have me confused with someone else. I wouldn't harm anyone, and neither would you, am I right?" The sweetness of his voice was enough to make Johnathan doubt his intentions. After all, it was true, he wouldn't harm an innocent.

“Don't listen to him, Johnathan, he's manipulating you and making you second guess yourself!" Jared hissed back at him. The old man's eyes suddenly turned towards Jared, and finally, something seemed to click in his mind.

“Jared, why are you wearing a Ghostbuster jumpsuit? Don't tell me you've actually joined them, have you?"

“And what does it matter to you?" was Jared's snarky response.

“They are hoodlums! Destroying private property for their 'research' on something that doesn't exist!" Feldspath cried out.

“Really? Then why did we see your name in the database of captured ghosts?" inquired Cassandra.

At this, the old man's eyes went wide for a second, before he bowed his head, closing his eyes as he…

“Are you crying?" asked Johnathan.

Soon it became apparent that the old man was, in fact, laughing. Suddenly, he began to change, the sound of his laughter becoming deeper and more maniacal. What had seemed like a harmless human soon distorted itself, legs disappearing into short stumps, arms elongating and fingers gaining claws, skin turning cinderblock grey. As the illusion was shattered, a pinkish aura pulsated around the mutating ghost. His head shifted bulbously before rearranging itself into a fang filled sneer, eyes growing smaller until they were pinpricks over his ridiculous maw.

“Open fire!" yelled Jared. All three ghostbusters pressed the triggers on their proton packs, and let loose three pulsating beams that quickly ensnared the apparition. Not to be undone, the ghost flew through the wall, dragging the proton beams across all the diplomas, tearing them up just like its illusion.

“Come on, after him! Don't let him escape or he'll tell all the ghosts that there's a new team!"

And with that warning, the three quickly exited the building before bringing their packs to bear on the fleeing ghost.

“That's it, keep it centered, I'll place the trap!" Cassandra said. Even in the thick of battle, she still sounded nonplussed, as though this was an everyday task.

“Easy for you to say, Sis, that old man's strong as hell!" Johnathan yelled over the beast's growls.

The beast shifted and tried to pry himself loose from the net he had found himself in. Jared kept struggling but he could see that it was a losing battle; already an arm had come free and was clawing at the net to get his other arm. All of a sudden, he noticed a knob on the blaster he was holding, which read POWER and was set at the lowest. Jared cranked up the power and the stream became much more intense, which caused the growls to become screeches.

“Quick! Increase the power to the streams, it's the small turning gear on the pack's muzzle!" Jared shouted to Johnathan, who spotted the little gizmo immediately and adjusted it to a more suitable level.

Meanwhile, Cassandra had finally gotten the box trap she had grabbed earlier ready, and she threw it under the ghost and stomped on the activation button. The trap opened, a white net of light extended outwards and caught the ghost squarely before dragging it back in, inexorably. Then the trap shut and all became quiet. Jared and Johnathan peeked over the box as though it was a bomb ready to explode.

“Is it… over?" Johnathan meekly asked.

“For now, it's contained in the trap. But it won't hold forever. We need to put it back inside the containment unit to purge it." Cassandra commented.

“Let's go, we still have to reactivate it." Jared promptly said.

Johnathan went to pick up the box trap. It still smoked with the recent activity.

“Yeah… No shit" he muttered.

---

Back at the Ghostbuster warehouse, Cassandra flipped the switch of the containment unit, hearing it rumble back to life. “Running diagnostics. Containment Unit has been offline for 13 days, 3 hours and 42 minutes. WARNING: insufficient power available. Containment unit maximum occupancy has been reduced until nominal capacity has been restored. WARNING: Containment unit occupancy reduced to thirty percent."

“Rather on the cheerful side, don't you think?" Johnathan commented.

“Actually, I like this. No waste of time, only useful information." Cassandra replied.

“You know, a little bit of humor never killed anyone…" he muttered.

“Well, I guess you just plug it in and, uh… flush the trap?" Jared pointed at a large green button, just on the side of the trap port.

“I guess so. Here goes nothing…" As Johnathan inserted the trap into the port almost religiously, the voice came back: “Trap input detected. Please use button to empty the trap."

He pushed the button and a great groaning sound came out of the machine. Shortly afterwards, the trap's light switched from red to green, and the trap ejected itself.

“Ghost trap purged. PKE signature registered to database."

“Okay then! I guess that wraps things up. Maybe we can order a pizza…" Johnathan started, but was interrupted yet again by Jared: “This may be over for this battle, but the war isn't done, not by a long shot. We'll still have to recapture all those ghosts, fix the containment unit, and warn the other Ghostbusters about the Grey-Eyed Boy."

“But Jared, we still have lives outside of the ghostbusting business! I'm not about to drop my job as a lab technician to become full time Ghostbuster!"

“I'm not asking you to do that. I'm not asking any of you to do that. All I'm saying is… Be ready. If we hear the phone ring, we should be able to answer the call. Can I count on you?" He asked, turning to the siblings.

“Man, I really wish we had taken the bus that day… But, for what it's worth, I'm with you. No matter the danger." Johnathan answered earnestly.

“Good. Cassandra?"

“I've already rerouted the landline to my cell phone. We should have instant alerts if any ghosts are spotted."

Jared merely nodded. It was going to be a long ride until Chicago was once again returned to its normal state. But he finally felt like he was where he belonged.