The Chess

Five minutes. Danny was only five minutes late. It was nothing more than a clock error, but it was enough for his parents to give him a scolding while they were busy assembling some questionable device in the middle of the living room. — This is becoming a problem, Danny, — the woman said, standing in front of him with her arms crossed. She was intimidating, and she knew how to discipline her children, being much stricter than their father. — Not only are you always late, but you've also started to perform worse in school... — You're shirking your household duties, — Jack interrupted his wife, taking a split-second break from assembling an unknown device and reaching for a wrench. — You've said that already, — Danny leaned back on the couch, blowing a thick, overgrown fringe off his forehead, which he was too lazy to trim. Between ghosts, schoolwork, extracurricular activities, and household chores, he barely had the energy or time to maintain a decent appearance. While he tried to avoid looking like one of the nerds who happily dressed in dusty remnants of his great-grandfather's wardrobe, his sense of style was nonexistent. At least that's what his classmates whispered behind his back. — We need to repeat it twice before you start doing them, — Jack said, looking at his son through his goggles. Danny bit the tip of his tongue for a moment. Pain is a great way to keep from losing your temper and raising your voice. Arguing with your parents will only lead to more punishment. But the taste of blood in your mouth is not the most pleasant feeling too. ― It's just a difficult time. Things aren't going as well at school as I'd like them to, and that's why... — Oh, stop it, Danny, — Maddy interrupted his prepared speech with a nervous wave of her hand. — You can't come up with a stupid excuse like that. There's no problem that can't be solved without being late home, failing tests, or neglecting your homework. — You could at least tell me how to do it, — the words were out of his mouth before he could analyze the consequences. — Say that again, young man, — Maddy said, looming over her son like a storm cloud, ready to explode, when Jess intervened. — I suppose Danny means that it would be better if you didn't just lecture him about how bad a child he is, but suggested ways of solving problems based on your past experiences. — Jess slammed shut the book she had been painstakingly studying all this time, making pencil notes in the margins. — Jess... — On one hand, the teenager was grateful for his sister's concern, but he knew all too well what this help would turn into for him. And for Jess herself. ― You always give him only the conclusion. Maybe it would be more effective to tell him how you dealt with similar problems when you were his age. How you succeeded in your studies. How you organized your life when you were younger. ― Jess... ― Danny realized that his sister was very excited. Usually, her parents listened to her when she approached them like this, but they understood her in a very... special way. — You know what I trie to do, Danny. — His sister finally looked at him. — I just want you to have a normal conversation with parents, not a useless moral lecture that does nothing but damage our family relationships. There are other ways to solve these issues, and I'm sure that's what you want. — That's a great idea! — exclaimed Jack, jumping up. — The whole family can reminisce about our past at a reunion. — That's not what I meant, — Jess said awkwardly. Danny just rolled his eyes. To him, his father's reaction was a given. — I'm not sure it'll help Jazmine, — Maddy sighed. — But if you think something like this might be helpful, I'll go for it. — Besides, it's been a while since we've spent time as a family, and we haven't gone on any trips. A little getaway would be good for everyone,— Jack said, his energy a bit annoying to the tired teenager. After school, he hadn't even had time to eat dinner. Three extra assignments and a stupid dog-sized ghost that he couldn't even catch had taken the last of his energy. He listened half-heartedly as his parents discussed their travel plans, the route they would take, and the motels they would stop at along the way. As his empty stomach rumbled, he watched passively as his parents' device spilled some caustic liquid onto the pages of Jess's book, causing the ink to run and making the text unreadable. On autopilot, he handed her his handkerchief, which had been forgotten in the pocket of his jeans a long time ago, tattered and used only once to wipe the blood from his split lip after a fight with school bullies, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to take a shower. Jess sighed as she looked at the dried blood stains before starting to wipe away the unknown and unpleasant liquid of the book.

***

Danny was exhausted from the long drive in the family's all-terrain vehicle, which was equipped with equipment capable of, as his father put it, "breaking down any ghost into its constituent atoms in the field." However, he was unable to fall asleep in his room at the cheap roadside motel. It was difficult to determine the exact cause of his insomnia, whether it was the constant rumbling of trucks passing by on the nighttime highway outside his window, the suspicious moaning coming from the adjacent room, or his father's loud snoring. The teenager put on his shoes and tiptoed out of the room. The cool night air, filled with the smell of gasoline and over-roasted coffee from the nearby gas station, only made him feel more apathetic. He spent the entire journey reading a book that he had borrowed from Sam for the trip. If he lost the book, she threatened to make a voodoo doll with his face. Gothic novels may not have always been his favorite, but they provided a way to pass the time and pretend to be doing something productive. Parents are less likely to cling to you if they see you sitting with a paper book in your hands. And he don't even have to read it thoughtfully. Danny sat on the hotel steps, watching the fireflies twinkle in the nearby bushes. As a child, he used to call them "Miniature Ghosts." He wished all ghosts were as small, cute, and amazingly twinkling as they were. — Can't sleep? —Jess, wrapped in a blanket, quietly approached from behind and sat down next to her, cuddling her favorite teddy bear, which she still couldn't fall asleep without. — It's okay, it's normal on long trips. — You shouldn't have gotten involved in that conversation, — Danny sighed, resting his chin on his hand. — Know you meant well, but if they'd just reprimanded me for being rude and given me a weekend punishment, you wouldn't have had to drive halfway across the country to Wisconsin. — I was hoping I could reach out to them, — Jess said, fiddling with the end of her braid. — Maybe one day I'll be able to. You're getting more and more nervous with each new punishment they give you. You're shutting yourself off. You're even talking to me less, and I think it's because I hardly ever stand up for you. I thought they'd listen to me and not punish you this time. Danny put his arm around his sister's shoulders with a tired smile. — I'm more likely to get sympathy from a demon than from our parents, — the cold evening became a little warmer. — But thank you for trying. Another truck rumbled down the highway, drowning out the chirping of crickets in the nearby forest with its roar. The air was filled with new scents: cigarette smoke and burnt pancakes from a nearby diner. The waitress working there didn't look any better than the usual spirit. It seemed that this woman, who worked double shifts, had been mistaken for a ghost by their parents when they ordered dinner. — Maybe this trip won't be so bad, — Jess suggested, sharing a warm blanket with her brother and looking up at the night sky, filled with small, bright stars. Heavy rain clouds were slowly drifting across the horizon, illuminated by the pale moonlight.

***

Danny spotted the castle from a distance. It didn't look like the American dream or the remnants of the first settlers' colonial style. It would have been more appropriate to see it in Europe, but not here. The ivy-covered building seemed much older than it should have been. The sight of the mansion's pointed turrets and narrow arrow-shaped windows under a storm-cloud-filled sky sent a chill down Danny's spine. The teenager took a couple of photos on his phone to send to Sam. “She’s going to like this,” he thought, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. It wasn’t necessary to bring anything, but having a thermos bag nearby made him feel more secure. The place looked like it was inhabited only by ghosts. ― Are you sure we're at the right place? ― Jess shifted nervously from foot to foot as Danny fiddled with the filters in the chat. — Yes, sunshine, — Maddy said, stretching her cramped legs and cracking her back. — Masters has a good job after all. — Despite everything, — the owner of the estate was pale and thin, but hardly as old as Denny had imagined. He looked no more than twenty-five. Only his completely gray hair, tied in a neat ponytail, and his manner of speaking betrayed his true age. — You are the first to arrive. Welcome, — the man invited them into the house with a graceful gesture. A faint, formal smile played on his thin lips. — It's been years, and you haven't changed, Vladi! — Jack's words echoed loudly off the stone walls. For a moment, Danny thought Masters might have twitched, out of some old habit, trying to avoid Jack's bear hug, but he restrained himself at the last second, just to avoid coming across as rude. In contrast to the tanned, smiling, and well-fed Jack Masters, he looked even paler, like an aristocrat from a bygone era. He was reserved, even stiff, and clearly struggled to tolerate the presence of his "classmate." — Please don't do that again, — Masters said politely, pulling his arms free and straightening his jacket. He was still smiling. It would be difficult to call him rude, although for some reason Danny wanted to. Green and gold were plentiful in the spacious hall. It took Danny a moment to realize that the owner of the estate was a Packers fan. However, Masters did not fit in with the decor of his own hall. His elegant, slender figure in a black suit stood out against the vibrant colors as he and his parents conversed as they approached the wide front staircase. — He's filthy rich. Couldn't he have hired a proper designer? — Jess whispered in her brother's ear, who had finally satisfied himself with the photo of the gloomy castle and sent it to Sam. Masters looked at the girl from the other side of the hall, as if he had not only heard everything she had said in a low whisper, but was offended by it. Jess bit her lower lip nervously under his sharp gaze, hiding behind her brother's back. Her knuckles were white from how tightly she gripped the volume of Freud's works. — The main event will begin tomorrow, — Masters' voice was even and melancholy. — Let me show you to the guest rooms so you can rest after your long journey. — Oh, don't worry about it, Vlad. It's no necessary, — Jack tried to dismiss the offer. — Our family's all-terrain vehicle is quite spacious and... — I insist, — Masters smiled a little wider, looking at the Fenton and motioning for them to follow him. — It would be terribly ungracious of me to let you spend the night in your car, especially with the rain coming. A distant rumble of thunder sounded outside, causing Danny to tense up. It seemed to be the same way one of Samantha's favorite gothic novels began. An old mansion, a gloomy host, and an impending storm that would prevent them from leaving the house. The teenager swallowed, feeling a coppery taste, as if he had bitten the tip of his tongue. Masters gaze lingered on him for a moment longer. ― Your children need a good rest after the roadside motels. In addition, Madeleine, I would like to discuss something from your field of specialization with you. My own research has reached an impasse, and an outside perspective would be helpful. Masters way of speaking left Danny puzzled. Until that day, he hadn't thought he could ever even consider the idea that a person could be too polite. — Oh, I thought you gave up after that incident, — Maddy said in surprise. It was hard to tell what she meant, but Danny was definitely interested. It seemed that his parents hadn't handled everything as well as they liked to tell him. — I just changed course a little, — Masters said, moving almost silently. The sound of his polished shoes clicking on the floor was either inaudible or so quiet in contrast to the echoing sound of Maddy's clipped footsteps and Jack's heavy tread. The man seemed faded, almost black and white. For a moment, Danny wondered if all the colorful decorations and the grand hall's interior were solely for the reunion. Perhaps this thought crossed his mind because the second-floor corridors were much more subdued: no gold or green, no flashy embellishments. — Ah, to remember the good old days when the three of us pushed the boundaries of science, — Jack said, closing his eyes dreamily. — How nostalgic. — Don't take it personally, Jack, but I'd rather not give you access to the equipment, — Masters' voice didn't change. It didn't waver, but it made Danny feel cold and try to convince himself that it was just a draft. ― Vlad, it's been so long... — Nevertheless, I would like to play it safe, — he said, looking at the woman. — If Madeline doesn't mind, — he added, just to be polite. Danny ignored Sam's response to the photo he had sent. At the moment, he didn't feel it was important enough to take his attention away from his parents' conversation with their "old friend." He turned his phone to silent mode and put it in his jeans pocket, making a mental note to "respond later." The sound of thunder was growing louder outside the narrow windows. — And if I don't? — Maddy asked carefully, carefully analyzing Vlad's reaction. For the first time, Danny saw how carefully his mother chose her words when talking to someone. ― I'll say that it's a pity that I couldn't discuss the atomic composition of ectoplasm with anyone. And I'll wish you a pleasant rest after dinner. Danny noticed in the reflection of a small mirror how Master's smile widened as his parents began to exchange glances, sending each other silent signals. The boy allowed himself a brief moment of relief, thinking: "At least this guy can be seen in mirrors." — Okay, Vlad. It's a deal, — Maddy looked lost as she agreed to the terms of the estate's owner. An empty estate where Danny still hadn't seen a single servant. — I already regret mentioning our parents' past, — Jess whispered in her brother's ear, but Danny was certain that he wasn't the only one who heard her. ― Not only you.

***

After dinner, Maddy left with the castle's owner, leaving the family in an awkward silence in front of the large fireplace in the living room. The rain rhythmically tapped on the windows, causing Danny to move closer to the fire. Despite the warmth of the tea, he felt colder for no apparent reason. His fingertips were slightly white, and his smartphone refused to respond to his touch. The chat with Sam had provided some relief from the tense silence, but now it was no longer available. Jess curled up in an armchair and occasionally looked over the top of her book at her father, who was pacing the small living room. Danny was rubbing his hands together, watching the long black shadows of the objects in the room dance on the walls in the yellowish light of the fire. This room was much more in line with Masters's taste: the dark colors, the obviously expensive, if not antique, furniture, and the untouched snacks on the coffee table look like a ready-made still life. Everything screamed that this was not just an eccentric rich man, but a true aristocrat. — Um... — Danny didn't know how to ask the question he was curious about. Or if he should ask it at all. — Dad, is everything ok? — It could have been worse, — Jack said, collapsing into a chair. The legs of the furniture creaked as they scraped across the stone floor. The sound made Danny clench his jaw. He tried to push away the thought of how much it would cost to repair the antique furniture if it were damaged by such careless handling. — When I said it would be a good idea to know about your past and your mother's past, I didn't think that a creepi man from Wisconsin would be involved, — Jess took over the questioning, for which Danny was grateful. — Is there anything we should keep in mind when dealing with this nosferatu? — Don't call him that, Jazmine, — the man said as he reached for a glass of juice. His voice was slightly hoarse, either from the constant chatter on the way to the mansion or from his strained interactions with his former classmate. — He wasn't always this gloomy. At university, I knew him as the most cheerful person on the planet. However, he has good reasons for being so cold. ― Is this something too personal? — Danny asked cautiously, holding out his frozen hands to the fire in order to get ahead of his somewhat straightforward and sometimes tactless sister with a question. ― At the university, the three of us were studying proto-portals, and unfortunately, our first prototype, which was made from subpar materials, did not behave as expected. Danny felt a chill run down his spine. The nervous feeling of something bad was growing stronger with every word his father said. The teenager rubbed his hands together again in a pathetic attempt to warm them up as a long roll of thunder echoed outside the window. ― When I launched the prototype, it worked, but it didn't stay stable for even a second. There was a surge of ectoplasmic energy that Vlad was caught in. The portal to the ghostly dimension collapsed right on top of his head. Fortunately, he only suffered from discolored hair and worsened acne, but he was kept under observation for quite some time. I'm not sure exactly how or what they treated him for, but it didn't seem to work immediately. He finished his studies in absentia, and he stopped communicating with us for a long time. Maddy and I thought he'd given up on his research and his past, so we were excited when he invited us to meet. I thought he'd forgiven my mistake, but apparently not completely. The nasty feeling of coldness followed Danny all the way into the night, and it didn't seem to want to go away, no matter how much he warmed himself in the shower with all the hot water he could stand. No matter how much he wrapped himself in a downy blanket. The ghost inside him was trying to get out, and it was sending a stream of icy air down his throat that made his teeth chatter. It was still pouring outside. The rain was getting heavier, and it didn't seem like it was going to stop, so the teenager wrapped himself in a blanket and gave in to his second self. The dead man didn't feel the icy drafts piercing his body. He didn't care about the unfamiliar surroundings or the unfamiliar interior. He was dead, and for the dead, there were few truly frightening things in the world. In a way, he even began to enjoy being half-dead. It was a relief to have view of a world filled with mournful shadows. Shadows were everywhere in the mansion. Invisible to the human eye, but clearly visible to the Dead Boy's. It seemed strange that none of the parents' devices had yet triggered an alarm in such a dense concentration of otherworldly entities. A grieving woman in an old-fashioned dress sat on a wide windowsill, staring at the flashes of lightning and weeping, her lips moving silently as she spoke of her dead firstborn. A madman who had claimed to be a king, wearing a makeshift mantle made from torn curtains, covered in a corner of the hallway, his bulging eyes filled with madness. The shadows of the servants, obeying their old habits, cleaned everything, sweeping, washing, and wiping all the surfaces, giving the impression of the most reasonable of the small ghosts that inhabited the place. One of the maids, a blonde girl with rope marks on her neck, walked through him, leaving a wet spot on his overalls from a mop. "I shouldn't have expected anything good from this trip," — Danny thought. One of the entities on the floor above seemed much more material than the usual Shadows, and it didn't seem to have noticed Danny yet. The creature looked strange. Its blue skin, with blue veins running through it, made Danny think of drowning, but its clothes were dry. The creature was wearing a white, old-fashioned cloak with a red lining and copper buttons on the sleeves, which reminded Danny of a doctor's coat. The spirit was immersed in reading books that followed it through the air like a flock of birds, rustling dryly. The notebooks, which were too thick due to the many glued-together pages, did not close properly and occasionally lost pages that continued to levitate in the air. Flying a little further down the corridor, the ghost disappeared behind the library's double doors, passing through the dark wood along with all the books. The ghostly entity also had its drawbacks. It made Danny more fearless, but also more curious. As a human, he would never have dared to follow a frightening creature into a locked room, but as a ghost... Carefully and silently, the teenager entered the library as an invisible, hiding in the deepest shadows. The man had red eyes with no hint of a pupil. It was impossible to tell where he was looking or if he had noticed the presence of an extra creature in the room. His black hair was tied in a neat ponytail, and a mechanical pencil appeared in his thin fingers out of nowhere. The sound of the pencil scratching on notebooks and pages made Danny shiver. Books began to float around the room, taking their places on the shelves and being replaced by new ones. Their movements were mesmerizing and soothing. The beautiful book dance was abruptly interrupted when a heavy book flew into the invisible boy from behind and crashed to the stone floor with a deafening thud. The demon's two red eyes were now staring directly at him. One by one, dozens of volumes were thrown in his face. A sharp, iron-bound corner cut his lip. It distracted him from the ghost, forcing him to look away from the pale ghost for just a brief moment. It was enough to allow the thin, tenacious fingers with their sharp claws to reach his throat. Danny couldn't say exactly what the spirit did, but it felt like a handful of smoldering embers being forcefully shoved into his mouth. His ghostly self was knocked out cold before he even realized it. He opened his eyes to find himself standing in the middle of the room, with Vlad Masters gently slapping his cheeks to try to wake him up. At his feet was a crumpled blanket and a thick book that Sam had lent him for the trip. — I couldn't... I wasn't asleep, — the teenager muttered to himself, looking around distractedly. — Does this happen to you often? — Masters, wearing a light-colored dressing gown with a red lining, leaned forward to look Danny in the eye. For the first time that day, Danny saw something resembling genuine emotion on the estate owner's face. It was a mix of sympathy and irritation. — Did I walk in my sleep? — His tongue was thick and his lips were sore. — You've even managed to cut yourself, — Vlad said, taking a clean white handkerchief from the breast pocket of his robe and pressing it to the teenage's bleeding lip. The image of the dark spirit in his memory had become as intangible as dreams usually are after waking up. — I'm sorry, — the handkerchief muffled the words. Danny involuntarily hunched over, lowering his gaze. — It's been a long time since I've felt like this. I'm probably just tired and... I'm sorry. — Your parents shouldn't have dragged someone who gets nervous about traveling all this way, — Masters said after a brief silence, lifting the boy's chin. This gesture usually meant a reprimand or a slap. The teenager twitched nervously, and Vlad quickly removed his hand. — I'm fine, — Danny said, out of habit. — You can't lie, — Masters sighed, straightening his back and adjusting the lapels of his robe. Even his pajamas looked like a suit, decent enough to appear in front of people he didn't know well. — Get some rest, Daniel. We'll talk tomorrow. Such words from adults did not bode well, and couldn`t have positive meanings. Danny mentally prayed that this man would not see anything extra, about which it would be necessary to tell his parents. Vlad slipped out of the room silently, without even creaking the door with massive iron hinges, which the teenager dubbed the most dramatic door in his life.

***

The guests began to arrive in the late afternoon. A series of improbably cheerful and smiling adults was occasionally interrupted by gloomy, bored teenagers whom they had brought with them. However, Danny was unable to engage in even the slightest semblance of a normal conversation with either group. Children of his age were not interested in technology, ghosts, or dark, gothic books written by either wayward young ladies or depressed alcoholics with a penchant for suicide. And adults condemned all of this for obvious reasons. The boy could only quietly envy Jess, who had finally found someone to discuss with. Her hobbies had always been more socially acceptable (or at least presented as such). Adults in one corner. Children in the other. Danny was somewhere in the middle. He was sitting on a wide windowsill, his legs dangling stupidly, sipping on a cold lemonade. He was half-listening to his parents' conversation about Masters's obscure research, which Maddy had been briefly briefed on the previous day. No one had asked him about his sleepwalking episode, so the Wisconsin Dracula was keeping his mouth shut. Danny was grateful for that. It meant that he didn't have to deal with another unpleasant conversation or another potential flaw that his parents might point out. The adults became more active when the alcohol appeared on the tables. They became much noisier and more frivolous. However, the teenager was unable to keep track of how and by whom the dishes were replaced. It seemed that as soon as he blinked or looked away for even a moment to check on his parents or Jess, who was walking in the garden outside the window, his almost empty glass, which only contained ice cubes, was filled again. Perhaps the quickly intoxicated adults did not ask such question for them self, or perhaps he was just too paranoid. A rugby ball thrown by someone stopped right in front of Danny's nose. Teen didn't even flinch, as he was distracted by the glass that had filled itself. This collectible item with an illegible signature would have definitely broken his nose if it hadn't been for Masters. ― I see you haven't forgotten the old tricks yet! — Jack exclaimed, grinning broadly. — I can't forget what I didn't know, — Danny thought he heard the leather laces of the ball creak menacingly under Vlad's fingers. Although his voice remained calm and even. — But I'm trying to stay in shape. Masters' sharp gaze switched to the boy, and it was as strange as it had been when he had caught him in the middle of the room at night with a split lip. ― Speaking of appearance. You look even worse than you did yesterday... son. — Danny, — the teenager corrected him, cupping the full glass in both hands. — Only my parents call me 'son. — Of course, — Vlad said on a sigh, still staring at the teenager with a heavy gaze, just as Maddy had done when she suspected her son of mischief as a child. Or when he was trying to hide his scraped knees under his dirty pants. — I'm fine, really, — he said more emotionally than he intended. — You can't lie, but I'll play along to you, — Vlad said. He obviously didn't know how to smile properly, but he had two modes: a forced, fake smile that looked relatively normal, and a crooked grin that only half of his mouth could manage. — It's getting too noisy for a child. — I'm not a child, — Danny muttered resentfully, setting his glass aside. — I won't argue with you, but I'd still like to ask you to follow me. Danny looked at his parents. His mother nodded at him gently, silently hinting that it was really better for him to leave. Not to watch how “wrong” the adults were having fun and not to follow their bad example. And don't stop them from having fun. Reluctantly, Danny climbed down from the windowsill and followed Vlad, who casually returned the ball to the glass display case in the main hall. — You should be more careful, Daniel, — the stairs were much quieter on the way to the second floor. Adults didn't have the habit of wandering around someone else's house beyond the designated territory, unlike his peers at noisy and, in most cases, unapproved parties. — Otherwise, something bad might happen to you. Like a broken face. — I know, — Danny said, trying not to make eye contact with the adult. — I'm just a little bit headache because I didn't sleep well, — he said, looking out the window at the garden where his peers were having fun. And Jess. Judging by her wide smile, she was having fun, which meant that at least someone would have a good memory of this gloomy place. — I can give you free advice for preventing headaches, Daniel, — the cool hands turned the boy's hunched shoulders, forcing him to maintain his posture and automatically raise his head. — Straighten your back and don't always look at your feet. It will help reduce headaches and prevent you from looking like a hunted sheep. Masters waved Danny into a small but very well-equipped laboratory. It was clean, bright, and well-organized. The creative chaos that characterized the Fenton's was definitely a rarity here. — It's strange, but when you sneaked into the library yesterday, I couldn't call you a cautious quiet person. — I don't understand what you're talking about, — a chill ran down his back. Vlad cut off the only reasonable escape route by closing the doors behind them and still standing behind them. — You understand. You're not a naive boy, — Masters' voice echoed behind him. Thick clouds of icy steam erupted from the teenager's mouth, settling on the nearby shiny countertop in the form of frost. His mind raced with at least a dozen possible actions and justifications, including the most absurd ones, but it was outmatched. — I don't need any extra fights, — the pale, red-eyed ghost appeared in front of him in a black haze, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. — Although I know that your other self likes them quite a lot. — What do you want? — Danny took a step back and ran into Vlad's chest. The second Vlad, who had regained his human form right in front of him. — Just to talk, — said the first ghost, vanishing into thin air. — It's not everyday I get the opportunity to have a conversation with the lab rat of the own parents, — Masters finished for the copy. ― I didn't... ― his heart was beating too fast with indignation and fear. ― It's not... ― his thoughts were having trouble forming into words. The teenager felt cornered. ― It's not their fault! ― I won't argue, ― Vlad placed his heavy hands on the boy's shoulders and led him to a nearby chair. ― But I won't fully accept it, and it's nothing personal, ― he sat down across from the boy, crossing his legs comfortably. ― However, I would like to hear your version of events. At that moment, Vlad reminded the teenager of the teachers, the principal, and one of the social workers who were called to the Fenton house by the social services after another complaint from the neighbors about inappropriate treatment of children or after particularly loud explosion of chemicals in the laboratory. In their company, it was always necessary to watch one's tongue to avoid causing a lot of problems and paperwork that would distract the parents from their work for a long time. Something inside Danny told him that “problems” were the least of what an influential person with a lot of connections and a ten-figure bank account could do to his parents. His throat was dry. He couldn't think of anything remotely plausible that didn't involve his parents. Vlad sat across from him, his back straight, waiting patiently without expressing any particular emotions. — Danny? — The voice is soft and sympathetic. — You've turned pale. Are you feeling unwell? The teenager bit his lip nervously, accidentally tearing off the thin crust from yesterday's wound. Masters sighed wearily and handed him his handkerchief. Just like yesterday. ― Our first meeting didn't go well, and I'd like to apologize for that. I understand your distrust. I shouldn't have been so abrupt. — It's okay, — Danny said, his back hunched again as he pressed a white cloth to the bleeding wound on his lip. — Ghosts are usually much rougher. "Amity Park attracts anomalies. I suppose that's why your parents decided to settle there," Masters continued politely. It was a common technique among more or less professional social workers. Imagine that you're simply visiting someone's home. Act like a friend to get more information. — Do you want to get my parents into trouble? — Danny asked bluntly. — Of course not. They're doing a great job of create their own problems, Daniel, — Vlad said in a formal tone. Just like the first time they met, he seemed overly polite and correct. — I just want to know how seriously their problems have affected you. In my case, it didn't end well, and it's not even about living with one foot in the world of the dead. — I don't understand, — Danny's father's story and what he'd just seen didn't add up. It wasn't like what had happened to him in his parents' lab. He'd been lucky as hell that they weren't home that day. It had taken him a long time to regain his human appearance. A lot of time. But Masters... — Do my parents know that they've made you half dead? "Not. Of course not," thin lips stretched into a friendly, on-duty smile, which had not a drop of sincerity. "The afterlife caught up with me already under numerous IVs. ― I'm not injured, if that's what you're asking. No burns, fractures, bruises, or chemical poisoning. — Even if I check your medical history at the city hospital? — Masters raised one eyebrow skeptically. — I ended up there because I accidentally hit a faulty switch. My parents told me not to touch it, but I ignored them when I went down to the basement, — Danny mentally praised himself for his believability. It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't entirely true either. — That means an electric shock, — Vlad said, keeping a close eye on the boy. — Simple injury. — You've been in the hospital for more than a week, as far as I know. That's a long time for a simple injury. — My mother insisted. She wanted to make sure I was all right, — he said before he could stop himself. — What do you want to know? ― I want to know if there are any other side effects in your case, ― Vlad sounded honest, if a little detached. ― In my case, it wasn't just limited to discolored hair and unpleasant skin inflammation. Believe me, it's not something I would want someone like you to experience, ― the man exhaled wearily, running a hand through his hair. It seemed like for the first time in a while, he was at least trying to be more sincere. ― Danny, I don't want any scandals or problems for you personally. My motives for engaging in this dialogue are quite prosaic - to prevent you from aggravating your own situation, as I once did. It's easier to destabilize yourself as a ghost than it seems, and you won't like the consequences. Teenager listened to Vlad in silence. Taking the blood-stained handkerchief from his face, he laid it on the table, his eyes fixed on Masters. Jess had dubbed him the Wisconsin Nosferatu, but the nickname didn't fit him at the moment. — I won't insist anymore that you give everything away here and now, Daniel, — Vlad smiled. Sincerely. And it's not even crooked. ― But if you want to talk or ask for advice, you know who to turn to.

***

The alumni meeting ended quite late in the evening. Even the persistent journalist, who had come here not to engage in a dialogue with her former classmates, but to capture a potential exclusive, did not notice the prolonged absence of the estate's owner. For some reason, she was convinced that she had spent the entire evening conversing with the "billionaire of the year." Vlad did not reveal the subject of their conversation during a brief breakfast with parents the morning before they left. He even waved goodbye to the Fenton family's departing all-terrain vehicle. — I don't know what you two were talking about, son, but thank you, — Jack took Masters' gesture personally. — He seems to have thawed out a bit. — You're welcome, Dad, — Danny replied from the back seat. As he opened his smartphone's case to check in with his friends during the trip, he noticed Masters's business card with a handwritten phone number. — You're welcome.

***

While a multitude of ghostly shadows cleaned up the castle after a rowdy party, Vlad leisurely sipped human plasma through a straw from a medical blood storage bag and examined the dried burgundy stains on a handkerchief that had been forgotten by a young boy. The bizarrely spread-out stain on the fabric resembled the Rorschach blot test, which had been a source of frustration for him in the past. The phone call interrupted his first normal meal in two days. — How did it go? — asked a pleasant female voice on the other end. — Not as useless as it could be, — Vlad replied evasively. — Did the Fentons provide any useful information? — There was a rhythmic tapping of fingernails on the tabletop on the other end of the line. — My sources were as helpful as the police officers at the human rights rallies. ― No, they're way behind us. But I do have something interesting.