The Chess

A table in a dark room was illuminated by a pair of candles, whose flames were reflected in two mirrors that were multiply reflected in each other. A straw doll with no face, dressed in a simple dress made of rags, and a ball of white yarn cast short, shivering shadows on the tabletop. Two sisters sat with their backs to the tabletop, the candles, and the doll, staring at the many reflections of themselves in the second mirror and whispering: ― Charlotte, come to play with as. The quiet whispers were lost in the darkness of the hot room. Not a single ray of moonlight could be seen through the curtained windows. That night, in an old wooden house in the middle of nowhere, near the forest. Outside, everything was silent, even the night birds that usually feasted on small rodents near their barn had decided to keep quiet. It was as if all sounds had disappeared from the world, except for the soft whispers of the sisters and the crackling of the candles. The younger girl had long been obsessed with the idea of summoning a ghost. The older girl had just learned about Charlotte Webster from her classmates, who were gossiping about a fresh scar on the face of one of the boys after school. He had always been a quiet boy, and it was rumored that he had recently decided to play with Charlotte. But the capricious ghost didn't like the gift he had used to lure the spirit from the mirror corridor, and in a cruel way, the little ghost informed the hapless child that he had messed up. The candle flames trembled and flickered, even though there was no sign of a draft in the room. This could only mean that Charlotte was already there. She had already begun weaving her web in the mirrors. The sisters fell silent, focusing all their attention on the reflections. Spirits are capricious and easily offended. Even when dealing with someone as harmless as Charlotte, you need to be cautious. Do not get distracted. Do not look back at the table of offerings. Do not be rude and be polite. No one likes a bully. Especially ghosts. At the edge of the many mirror reflections, a golden curl flashed by that could not possibly belong to either of the red-haired sisters. The elder clutched the hem of her pajamas in her large fists. The younger fiddled nervously with a small feather amulet that her grandfather had given her. "What a cute doll," — the otherworldly voice sounded as if it were right next to my ear, along with the approaching footsteps. — "My mother used to make me ones like this." — The rustling of fallen leaves became clearer, as if the otherworldly visitor was intentionally kicking piles of fallen leaves. The older sister caught the younger sister's eyes in the mirror, which were just as big and frightened. Until the very end, one of them hoped that nothing would happen and that it was just one of the many legends that local children and aging adults told each other. "But what should I do with the thread? No one has ever given me a gift like this before," — the spirit said, and the sisters tensed, remembering the story of the fresh scar on one of the boys' face. It was said that he had given Charlotte a teddy bear, and she had been very upset. A girl appeared in the reflection of the mirrors. She had blue eyes, was slightly dirty, and wore a tattered white dress with puffed sleeves. She looked no more than seven years old. She carefully examined the doll and a ball of thread that were lying on the table behind her sisters before picking them up. "Oh, I think I understand. It's so I can fix the doll and make more. Am I right?" — A smile appeared on the ghost's pale face. The guest's parched lips were covered with a web of cracks. The younger sister nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the small mirror girl. The candle flames didn't touch her, and she seemed to glow from within, enveloping nearby objects in a pale greenish light. "That's so cute. But there's no grass here to make dolls like that," — the girl said, looking thoughtful and slightly upset for a moment. — "But I can make them out of twigs! I'll show you later." According to the rules of the game, if Charlotte comes, those who summoned her will be able to talk to her. They can ask her questions that they are interested in, and she can answer them if she wants to. A little girl won't lie, unlike adults, but it would be foolish to completely trust the words of the deceased. Especially those who might cause harm over something as insignificant as a toy. However, it's possible that the guy lied and it wasn't about the teddy bear, but rather his own rudeness. The sisters had discussed the advance. They had thought it through and even written it down. But now, as they looked at the dead girl, all their preparations seemed to have fallen apart. The sight of the little dead girl evoked a vague sense of unease. The girl's dirty white dress hung in tattered pieces around her shoulders. Her golden hair was disheveled, with small leaves and twigs stuck in it. — How did you die? — asked the younger sister in a soft whisper. "Daddy burned mommy at the stake for witchcraft. And I ran away into the woods. Monsters ate me," the ghost said with a modest smile. Her otherworldly voice echoed softly in the mirrored hallway. The room became cool. It was as if the air from the autumn forest had entered the room. A cloud of steam escaped from the older sister's lips. The ghost continued to stare at the younger sister, his head tilted to the side in thought. "You know, you should be more careful. Your husband will burn you at the stake for talking to me," — the ghost said, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand. — "Oh, I forgot! You don't know that yet. He'll be upset that I told you." — The girl hugged the gifts to her chest, her shoulders slumped, and she cast a quick glance behind her, into the depths of the endless reflections. It was as if there was someone hiding there who could hear her and punish her for talking too much.

***

It had been a long time since Maddy had thought about the first time she had seen a ghost. On that long-ago autumn evening, a week before All Saints' Day, Charlotte had told her a lot of interesting things. Some of her predictions, such as that Alice's love would not last long, had come true. However, the second part of the information, such as poor Jasper being hit by a car, has no truth. At some point in her life, the future Mrs. Fenton began to think that the ghost girl didn't have any special knowledge at all, but just said whatever came to her mind in the most vague and general terms to appear as an all-knowing otherworldly entity. In reality, she was just play with the children who had foolishly called her. She could scare them as much as she wanted, just like everyone else who called her at night. Perhaps she would have stayed longer if someone had broken the rules too often. However, the little ghost's first prediction was still fresh in her mind. As she sat in Mrs. Glumel's reception area, she nervously fiddled with her wedding ring, listening to the steady ticking of the clock. Danny had been in the doctor's office for almost an hour, and Maddy was starting to feel anxious. She pulled off top of her jumpsuit and tied the sleeves around her waist, leaving her in a black tank top. The room was almost unbearably stuffy, and the woman had already regretted using the suffocating perfume that Jack had given her for their anniversary. — Maybe we should open a window for you? — asked the receptionist. She was nice and polite, with long, tight braids. — Or should I get you some water? — No, thank you, — the woman tried to smile, looking around the room again. It was quiet and bright, despite the fact that there was only one window. There was almost no outside noise, even though the clinic was located in the heart of the city, where there were always plenty of cars. — You're so tense, — the girl remarked, adjusting the thermostat knob slightly. — Don't worry so much. It's not good for your health. Your son is in good hands.— The girl's smile was absent-minded and seemingly non-committal. Her quiet politeness and smooth gestures were supposed to induce drowsiness and a sense of calm, but instead they unnerved Maddy, making her feel as if time itself was moving slower than it actually was. The familiar quiet footsteps of her son and Dr. Glumel finally sounded in the hallway. ―… I understand your desire to stretch the day a little longer and devote more time to your hobbies, but this approach may make the situation worse. Try not to overdo it, ― the woman's voice was deep and soothing. Almost hypnotic. Miss Glumel was a real professional. Danny looked depressed and tired. This shouldn't be surprising after dealing with a therapist who brings out all your inner demons. For too long, Maddy had been ignoring her son. "Can we talk, Mom?" The woman bit her lip as she watched her son walk past her to the front desk and begin filling out new information for his card. She should have been proud of his independence, but instead, she felt like an empty shell. Like a ghost that Danny could do without, but sought out of simple childish curiosity. — Mrs. Fenton, may I have a word with you? — The dark face became serious in an instant. Gone was the warm, friendly smile that Dr. Glumel had given her young patients. Black eyes looked out from behind the huge round pink glasses, sharp and attentive, and the heavy, thick dreadlocks lay on her shoulder like a nest of dormant snakes. The general recommendations were almost the same as they had been ten years ago: more rest, more relaxation, less conflict, mandatory medication, and, if possible, don't allowing to sleep on the second floor, nearby stairs, open windows, and sharp objects. ― And no exorcism. Usually, people don't like being told what to do, how to treat and raise their children. But I hope you understand that specific approach if your husband to solving problems in the past has added to our workload. Maddy understood this better than anyone else. Jack was a good person who didn't do anything maliciously, but it would be too costly to let him make that mistake again. And not just literally. The specialist suggested that it might be a good idea for the boy to change his environment for a while, subtly implying that Danny should be kept away from the family's marginalized approaches. ― I can't reveal the details of our conversations, Mrs. Fenton. However, what I've heard from the boy is concerning. There's nothing criminal yet, Danny just a quiet and reserved child. I think he believes his silence is for the best, but if something extraordinary comes to light during our sessions, our conversation may take a less pleasant turn. As she watched Danny carefully study the doctor's prescription and the medication instructions, Maddy thought that maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was better not to know about her husband's relationship with his own children. That way, she could still love him. — Sunshine, — the woman said by hoarse voice, and tried to clear her throat. Danny silently looked up at his mother with his huge blue eyes. The fear and surprise that had been frozen on the teenager's face were now causing embarrassment and shame, rather than irritation at his lack of strength. — Do you want to go out before we get home? ― she suggested, having no idea how ordinary, normal parents have fun with their children. At Alice's house, the teenager behaved more relaxed, even though he was at that moment in the wilderness of Arkansas without friends or even a normal Internet connection. He didn't refuse beer, talked with his aunt and with the locals without any special problems. He didn't stutter as usual, didn't slouch, did not hide his gaze. It was too uncomfortable try to figure out why her own son sometimes behaved like a hunted sheep in his own family. Maddy was squeezing one of her gloves so tightly that she could feel the seams creaking under her fingers. — Sure, — Danny folded the recipe carefully and put it in the wallet attached to the chain around his waistband. — Are we going without Dad and Jess? ― Yes, we haven't spent much time together, and I thought it would be nice to... Ow! A half-drunk paper cup of coffee and her black work glove, which was never destined to remain clean, fell to the ground. Maddy couldn't bring herself to curse the careless pedestrian she had collided with. The man casually brushed off the coffee droplets on his jacket lapel, responding with a tired sigh to the barely audible, anxious voice in the phone: — For now, proceed as agreed, and I'll call you back in the evening, — the man ended the call, shaking the droplets of sweet drink from his fingertips. Masters smiled in the same reserved and tactful manner as at the reunion, with his lips tightly pressed together. — I didn't expect to see you, Madeline.

***

Jess idly twirled a thin silver ring on her index finger, occasionally looking up from her book to glance impatiently out the window. Usually, by this time, her mother would be cooking dinner, and Danny would be online with Tucker, or staying over at Tucker's house for another hour. But not like this, with no idea where he was or his loyal companions, who remained silent as fish and avoided answering her questions as if they were protecting their friend from the police. A muffled bang and a father's cursing came from the lab. It seemed that he didn't mind his wife's absence, as it allowed him to continue working on various anti-ghost devices, despite her strict veto on such activities. No permission needed. No excuses required. No "for" arguments. Jess sighed, taking another quick look at the empty street outside. "Maybe Danny was right," she thought, tapping the spine of the book with her fingertips. "Maybe everything in our family more complicated than I thought." The girl got up from the couch and went to the kitchen. There was a note attached to the refrigerator door with a magnet, written in her mother's strict handwriting: "I'll be late. Dinner is in the refrigerator, on the second shelf from the left." The message was purely informative. There were no emojis, hearts, or any other symbols commonly associated with romantic and sensitive mothers who have an abundance of femininity. Her mother only indulged in such gestures when she and Danny were younger, leaving short notes on napkins in their lunch boxes. Looking at the sterile text, Jess began to miss the days of this sentimental periods. There was another bang from the lab. And then silence. The thought of checking on my dad was routine. Her heart wasn't racing with fear for the life and health of Jack. Her parent. Jess didn't listen to the silence. Instead, she poured herself some cold tea from the store and slowly drained the glass. She glanced at her watch, and after a quick look out the window, and only after that she headed down to the basement. To see if her father needed any help.

***

— We don't have much time, Ferdrant, — the dark figure by the window was almost lost in the shadows of the office. Peering out, the creature watched the children leaving the school after the student council, its clawed fingers slightly parting the slats of the blinds. Happy, well-fed, and contented teenagers annoy her with their good mood. — There's plenty of time, dear, — the amorphous green creature said, putting an arm around Shadow's waist and shamelessly placing a paw on her thigh. — We've set a deadline for the school's centennial celebration, but what's stopping us from slightly adjusting our plans for the undead? — The longer we wait now, in the changed circumstances, the more likely it is that he will find us, — the Shadow said, irritably shaking her assistant's hand off. — The boy is a real tracker, and you know it. Remember what he did to Jin? Familiar figures flashed through the late students on the street: a red beret, a black dress, and red hair. The latter was particularly annoying to Shadow. Weston was a real pain in the ass. ― Make the boy starve , depriving him of some of his food. To exhaust him. That was the original plan, but it all went to hell because of Weston. He got to both the undead and they've girlfriend. He cut all the strings of my favorite puppet with someone else's hands. And the backup plan with the cheerleader didn't work out. The girl was so narcissistic that it was impossible to control her. I didn't expect resistance from someone with her chicken brain. Ferdrant stared at the nervous lady with his tiny red eyes, which were buried in his body of green slime. She was upset and on edge, but she was still able to think clearly. He believed in her. ― We have to act now if we don't want to end up like Jean. Everyone in the Ghost Zone knew the story of Desiree. She was trapped in a human vessel, and the iron lid was welded by a non-dead man using his powers. He threw her into a portal like a cigarette butt, because she had angered him. The non-dead man's momentary rage was too powerful. It was unlikely that the genie would escape its trap anytime soon. Wes Weston in the window looked up from his new company to answer a call. He became flustered and, after a hasty goodbye to the Red Beret and the Black Dress, got into his car, an obvious gift for his sixteenth birthday. — We must act now if we do not wish to be sent back, — hissed the Shadow, baring her sharp fangs. — And you will help me.

***

Masters was the last person Danny expected to run into on the streets of Amity Park. Even less expected that they and his mother would talk enough to go to a cafe together. The situation reminded the teenager of a clichéd scene from a romantic anime or drama, in which the two main characters are sure to accidentally run into each other anywhere. At one point, he almost believed that Masters had staged this scene, but logic stubbornly said that even psychos would not act this way. The teenager sipped his drink slowly through a straw. It was a regular juice, with no sugar, seasonings, gas, or caffeine. The terrible longing seemed to take on a taste and a physical form in the small, clear glass. The adults were talking about something very scientific and incomprehensible. Maddy tried to engage her son in a conversation from time to time, but he clearly didn't want to. He responded with monosyllables and short answers, trying to end his speech as quickly as possible and let his mother take the lead. Giving her a chance to talk. At home father drowned out her calm tone with his booming bass. He often interrupted, didn't listen, and didn't understand until she raised her voice. Danny looked at Vlad, who let his mother finish her thought, sipped his coffee slowly from a small cup, and did his best to avoid this obvious comparison. It was a bad comparison, emphasizing that his efforts to reconcile his parents a couple of days ago had been in vain. Danny looked down into his glass, pretending to stir his drink. But instead, he slowly moved the ice cubes with his mind, occasionally sinking one of them. He wasn't so much bored as he was disappointed that he hadn't seen his mother smile like that in a long time. — How did you come up with that, Daniel? — Vlad's voice brought the teenager out of his frustration. He suddenly realized that he had missed too much of their conversation to provide a coherent response. — Come up with what? — he asked quietly, feeling the tips of his ears burning. — Going into a gorilla's cage for a biology report, — Masters explained patiently, casting a quick glance at Maddy. — It just happened, — Danny replied evasively, pushing his drink aside and glancing at his mother. — Why do you always choose this particular article from the "Geniuses" magazine about our family? I still got a "C" for that report. Why don't you tell Masters about your self-charging batteries? I'm sure it would be more interesting for his research on tissue cloning. Masters didn't look upset or shocked, but rather disappointed. — We're not talking about me today, Daniel, — the man said with a slight smile, as he always did, trying not to show his teeth too much. His fangs were almost impossible to see unless you looked closely, but it was clear that this level of restraint and self-control had become a habit for him. Danny's phone vibrated on the table. The teenager picked it up, reading a message from his friends. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to receive further confirmation that his family was falling apart and he couldn't fix it. — Tucker and I made a deal to go out today when I'm free, — Danny hoped that he wouldn't be asked anymore questions. His mom would tell him everything later if she wanted to. — Yes, dear, of course you can go, — the woman said, looking downcast. She was tired of the daily routine, the arguments, and her lunatic son. Danny didn't want to look her in the eye. Ghostly half told him it was best not to. The teenager grabbed his phone from the table and left the cafe, hurrying to escape the awkwardness and inappropriateness of his presence. "I'll be soon. Where are you?": Danny almost switched to cursive, almost starting to compress the words out of habit. "We just left the meeting. Sam's upset, but she's okay. Let's meet in the park, and we'll stop by Nasty Burger on the way. What should I get for you?" Before Danny could reply to the message, a short, weak exclamation came from around the corner. Brunette Catherine, one of the most emaciated cheerleaders, had collapsed in a deep faint in the middle of an empty sidewalk. Her friends were trying unsuccessfully to revive her by slapping her pale cheeks. Danny felt a chill run down his back at the sight of the sharp, long fangs that flashed between the girl's bloodless lips. Catherine was breathing heavily and hoarsely, her mouth wide open as she gasped for air while her friends tried to revive her, discreetly covering her fanged mouth from prying eyes, even though there was no one else on the street. — Let me help, — Danny said, shaking his head to clear it. He took off his backpack and light windbreaker and knelt next to Catherine. She had cut her eyebrow on the pavement, but there was no blood coming from the wound. Instead, it had quickly formed a hard, dark crust, like dried mud. It seemed that Sophie was calling someone while the teenager placed his backpack and windbreaker under the cheerleader's head. The dark eyelashes fluttered, but the girl didn't open her eyes. She inhaled noisily, like a dog. — What a pungent, inedible scent, — murmured Cartine, before Alice turned her face away from Danny, gently stroking her dark hair. Leaning close to her friend, she whispered softly in her ear, brushing her hair against her pale cheek. — Wes said he'd be here soon, — Sophie's voice trembled slightly. In the light of the first lanterns, her eyes glowed with a crimson hue. Despite her weak body, they appeared dangerous and menacing. — Okay, — Danny tried not to look away from the red-haired girl. — I can wait with you and help... — It's not worth it, ― Sophie interrupted him sharply, continuing to stroke her friend's hair. She's just as pale and thin. It seemed that she herself was a second away from losing consciousness. ― We'll manage on our own. You probably have a lot of things to do. Danny thought for a moment. Looking at the girls, remembering Tucker's message and Sam's sad face. It was healthy, and full of energy despite her terrible state of mind. It was the complete opposite of the girl lying on his jacket. — It can wait, — the teenager tried to smile, briefly touching Katrin's wrist to check her pulse. Her heart was beating weakly and irregularly. Her skin was cold and slightly damp, similar to his own after the accident. But these girls had nothing to do with the portal. Wes showed up in his car about five minutes later. It was unclear why he had taken the bus to school this morning. Was it just to talk to Fenton? By this time, Catherine had calmed down, and Danny helped her into the car. He was about to leave when Weston gestured for him to get into the front seat. The ghost was silent, which meant that the bloodsuckers behind them were not a threat. At least not yet. Wes was driving them out of town, towards Alice's parents' small farm. There was a familiar, damp smell in the air, tinged with iron. It was the typical scent of a nearby slaughterhouse. The girls were greeted by the family's father, while their mother only occasionally appeared in the windows, avoiding prolonged exposure. It was a challenging task to bring the sickly girls to the doorstep. The paintings were unsteady on their feet. Sophie was swaying like a reed in the wind. The only one who didn't really need support was Alice, who was obviously tired but not to the point of accepting help from someone she barely knew. Danny had been walking alongside her, stopping at the doorstep but not daring to step up onto the porch. He wasn't welcome here, and the Ghost knew it. He stared at the figures disappearing through the door, studiously ignoring the man's gaze. The most common is human. Without a single hint of a trick. With a sigh, the teenager sat down on the first step of the porch, looking thoughtfully at the screen of his mobile phone. Tucker texted back that Sam was fine now. He clearly did not dare to tell her about the reasons why Danny himself had so rudely merged at the last moment, abandoning the traditional walk after school. It's probably for the best. Manson would probably feel terrible if he found out that someone else had been sick because of the strict diet at school. — Thanks for looking after them, — Wes said, placing a cool hand on his shoulder. — How are they? — Danny asked cautiously, not wanting to dig too deeply. — They'll be better when they've rested, — the basketball player's pupils reflected the crimson ray of the sunset. — Where should I drop you off? — Do you know where the Fenton's workshop is? — Danny locked his phone and put it in his windbreaker pocket as he climbed the stairs. — Of course, it's hard to miss that giant sign, — Weston smiled. It was a reserved and cool smile, not showing his teeth, just like Masters. They drove to the city in silence. Occasionally, they encountered trucks on the road. These trucks were only passing through the city to leave it. The silence in the car was suffocating, and both teenagers were aware of the reason for this awkwardness. — What a pungent, inedible scent, — Danny thought, What would happen if a hungry undead creature found him tasty? It was one of the most disturbing compliments he could receive from a pretty girl with fangs. ― Catherine must have scared you,― Wes kept a close eye on the road, keeping both hands on the steering wheel. — She can say creepy things sometimes. — It's okay, honestly. I'm more worried about her face. — Danny tried not to look at Wes, focusing instead on the scenery outside the window. Among the tree trunks lining the road, in the dense shade of the canopy and shrubs, which had already turned yellow with the approaching cold, something green caught his eye. A cloud of steam escaped from his mouth, burning the tip of his tongue with its cold. — I wouldn't want any misunderstandings, Danny, — Weston didn't seem to react to the presence of the other spirit. He probably just don't notest. — They're nice girls, once you get to know them and... The ghost among the trees dived underground. It was gone, but Danny had definitely seen it. It was the same green blur that had been following the teenager for the past week, always escaping at the last moment. And it seemed that it was not tired of playing with the young hunter. Danny glanced at Wes. He was paying close attention to the road, both hands on the wheel, not distracted, but quite capable of one-way dialogue. An unnecessary potential witness. "Why now?" Fenton let his ghostly sense escape in a cloud of vapor. The dead man was displeased. He was nervous. And for good reason. A green smudge emerged from the ground on the other side of the road. Instead of hiding among the trees, it flew along the road, drawing the driver's attention with its greenish glow. Wes noticed it and barely had time to say, "What the hell..." before the blob shot forward, darting towards a truck in the oncoming lane. The massive metal monster swerved to the side. The green entity pushed the multi-ton truck into the oncoming lane with such force that it left a dent on the side door. Danny put both hands on the windshield, hoping he'd make it in time. With as much concentration as he could muster, he made the car intangible, keeping his eyes fixed on the truck speeding towards them. It seemed that Wes instinctively hit the brakes as the mass of metal flew through them. He could see the engine running at full throttle, the pistons moving within it, the axles of the wheels, and the contents of the trailer, which was filled to the brim. Wes's car came to a stop at the side of the road, having swerved sharply after skidding. The guardrail along the road was the only thing that prevented them from flying into the ditch and crashing into a nearby tree. Weston was breathing heavily as he watched the truck ram the guardrail and veer off the road, unable to slow down as quickly as the car. It was difficult to say whether he fully understood what had happened and the extent of Danny's influence on the situation. A green, phosphorescent blob of ectoplasm came out of the woods, hovering over the asphalt road with its greasy tire tracks. Its red eyes were fixed on the teenagers' car. Its lips were stretched into a fanged grin. Danny stared at the culprit of the accident, unzipping his backpack and feeling for the thermos. — Don't get out of the car, — he said sternly to Wes, unbuckling his seat belt. ― Dan… — We'll talk later, — Danny said as he got out of the car. He met Weston's gaze in the rearview mirror, allowing his ghostly form to take over his human one. He disappeared in a flash of bright light and then dove underground. He felt nothing but rage towards the amorphous ghost. For this accident. For the risk to other people's lives. For all the danger he had put others in during their little showdown. Danny let his ghostly senses work at full capacity. Emerging from the ground directly beneath the ghost, he dug his short, blunt claws into its jelly-like body, climbing higher. He delved deeper into the pliable ectoplasm, determined to reach the very core. The ghost roared, and, sacrificing a piece of its side, it twisted and bit the teenager's hand holding the thermos. The trap fell to the ground, accompanied by the spirit's menacing growl as it struggled to heal its wound. The teenager let out an icy cloud from his mouth, freezing his opponent into ice. A power he still used unconsciously, unlike the ecto-rays he used to shatter the frozen spirit into many pieces, watching them fall to the ground with a soft tinkle. It's no surprise that this pain in the ass never fought back, preferring to run, dodge, and taunt. It got on his nerves, unsettled his mind, and kept him awake at night. Danny picked up the thermos from the asphalt. The lid was slightly bent from falling from a great height, but the trap was not damaged. As he sucked the frozen remains of the ectoplasm into the thermos, the teenager allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed that the weak spirit had overestimated its own strength, believing that since it was faster than him, it could win a full-contact battle. However, Danny's sense of danger persisted even after he closed the thermos and transformed back into a human. He felt like he was being watched. But for some reason, they weren't attacking. His bitten hand was itching. The slight discomfort would fade by evening, as the Phantom should have enough strength to quickly heal such a minor wound. — Danny, — Wes's voice, hoarse with shock, pulled him out of his thoughts of an all-too-easy victory. He had a long conversation ahead of him, but first things first. — Check on the truck driver and call an ambulance, — his own voice sounded too cold and detached. Too unsuited for a situation that was so out of the ordinary for a regular schoolboy. With echoes of an otherworldly echo.

***

For once, her son had returned home on time. He having arrived in the car of one of his school friends, as far as she could tell. Maddy noticed that the teenager seemed pale, frightened, and almost painfully thin. However, he spoke and gestured with energy. He bid Danny farewell with a smile, mentioning something about the "Special School Club" before leaving. However, Maddy chose not to inquire about the meaning of this phrase. The tense dinner was over quickly. Maddy tried hard not to notice the smell of welding and chemicals from the basement lab, just to avoid giving her son any extra reasons to worry and lose sleep. Lying in bed, she slowly flipped through her old book of Native American folklore. The self-published edition, with a limited print run, was not sold anywhere outside of her home state of Arkansas. In fact, it was of little interest to anyone but locals. As children, she and her sister had devoured these legends, making numerous notes to capture their thoughts, and now was the perfect time to reminisce. The legend of people with multiple souls now caught the Maddy's attention more than ever before. It told the story of a girl with two souls who used to live peacefully and help each other in everything, compensating for each other's shortcomings and emphasizing their strengths. However, when the unfortunate girl fell in love with an unworthy man who betrayed her, she lost her peace and sleep. The soul that ruled the body during the day mourned but continued with its normal life. Meanwhile, the soul that awoke at night sought revenge, taking control of the body while the grieving soul slept. One night, the possessed soul, unable to bear the day's suffering of the twin it shared, rose from its sleeping place, taking full control of the body. It took a sharp knife and went to the offender, who would suffer physically as the day's soul had suffered. The door to the bedroom creaked slightly, pulling Maddy away from her story about the vengeful sleepwalker. Jack smelled of cologne and shower gel. The cold droplets of water that he loved to shower in made her shiver as they fell from the tips of his graying hair and trickled down the collar of his pajamas. He reached out to kiss her on the neck, speaking in his familiar bass voice. This distracted her even more from her reading. "You know, you should be more careful. Your husband will burn you at the stake for talking to me." — Not today, dear, — Maddy said, pulling away and sitting on the edge of the bed. She tried not to look at her husband and to think as little as possible about the pleasant smell of Vlad's expensive coffee and precious resins. She tried not to think about how her son's nose was broken at the last picnic, when a plastic Frisbee plate was thrown with all its force. She remembered applying ice to the swollen face of the teenager, who tried to convince her that everything was fine. He claimed it was his own fault. He said he should have been more careful. Don't think about the fact that the person responsible for this injury didn't even apologize. "He's a man, Mads. He'll survive! Scars make us look good." She couldn't focus on the story of the girl with two souls. The meaning of the ending was slipping away like the tail of a slippery eel. The text was almost unreadable due to the tears of resentment welling up in her eyes. Maddy blinked back the moisture and glanced at her husband, who was lounging on the bed with his back to her. This was a common gesture he used when he was upset. Usually, it prompted her to put down her book, magazine, notebook, or whatever she was reading. Before this day she lay down next to him, pressed her body against his broad, warm back, and slowly ran her hand along his spine, asking him what was wrong. But not today. "I can't reveal the details of our conversations, Mrs. Fenton. However, what I've heard from the boy is concerning. There's nothing criminal yet, Danny just a quiet and reserved child. I think he believes his silence is for the best, but if something extraordinary comes to light during our sessions, our conversation may take a less pleasant turn".

***

The mother didn't notice the remaining traces of teeth on her hand, thanks to the long sleeves of his windbreaker, which had gotten slightly dirty after he used it as a pillow for Catherine. On the one hand, it wasn't a serious injury, but on the other hand... The Ghost was angry. Everything about him suggested that there was someone else behind the overgrown amoeba with teeth. Danny dialed a familiar number, making sure to lock the door to his room. It seemed like an eternity passed between the long rings of the phone. He slowly ran his fingers over the damaged lid of the thermos, where the remains of the ghostly "body" were trapped. He didn't need the amorphous creature. He had no plans to return it to its parents at the moment. Nor did he intend to return it to the Ghost Zone. ― Good evening, Daniel. I didn't expect to receive a call from you. Masters' voice sounded almost bored on the other end. It was as if he had been interrupted from filling out some very tedious paperwork, the rustling of which could be heard in the background. ― I didn't think to bother you, but I need something. And I hope a living ghost body is enough to pay. *** At breakfast in the morning, the oppressive silence was broken only by the clinking of cutlery. In this silence, Danny could hear not only the slurping of his family members, but also the soft, barely perceptible beating of their hearts. His mother's heart was particularly restless, resembling the rhythmic tapping of a mouse's tail on the floor of his aunt's barn when the small rodents were caught in traps. He tried not to join in the cacophony of clinking cutlery and slurping, but even the sound of cutting a piece of steak was accompanied by the soft creaking of the fibers. Danny had put the thermos in his backpack earlier that evening, along with a new empty trap. Just in case. It had never been a bad idea. Masters had assured him that such an "exchange" was unnecessary, but the teenager couldn't accept such help without paying back in some way. The Phantom couldn't let that happen. — You know, I was considered as a candidate for the school's centennial speech last week, and I was confirmed for the celebration earlier this week, — Jess awkwardly placed her fork on the table, occasionally glancing at her brother's bloody steak. Her sister was afraid of blood and tolerated her brother's tastes rather than embracing them. Danny looked away from the girl, staring at his plate and suppressing the urge to gulp down his steak quickly so he wouldn't look like a wild animal. — That's wonderful, dear, — Maddy said, smiling tightly. Her breakfast looked almost untouched. — Have you been practicing? — Yes, that's why I was late after school yesterday, — Jess said, pushing her plate away and grabbing her cup of iced tea with both hands. The glassware was covered in a fine layer of condensation, and the girl's fingers left fingerprints on it. — Why were you late? — We were busy, — Danny said, before his mother could even begin to respond. — Mom and I were going to get pizza after school, but we ran into the "Birds" on the way. One of them was sick. ― Birds? ― Jess looked at her brother in bewilderment. — That's what the cheerleaders call themselves, the ones who were supposed to perform before your speech. Sophie, Catherine, and Alice. They're always support the basketball players, — Danny quickly swallowed the last bite of steak, suppressing the urge to lick the remaining blood clots mixed with sauce and mashed potatoes from his plate. — They seemed so exhausted that Catherine fainted. Maddie remained silent, sipping her morning coffee slowly and trying not to look at her husband. She did not comment on her son's speech. — God, I hope everything's okay, — Jess set her mug down and leaned both arms on the table. — Our team didn't look too good at yesterday's school council. — You're working on the spirit week voluntarily, and they're, in a sense, voluntarily-compulsory, — Danny spread his hands, carefully ignoring the absent look of his parents. — Can you give me a ride to school today? I want to arrive early and meet with Tucker and Sam. ― Yes, of course, ― the girl agreed easily, at the same moment putting aside a cup of unfinished tea, she jumped up from her seat, hastily rattorating words of gratitude for a delicious breakfast. And she went to her room to pack her things. Danny sat in the suffocating silence of the kitchen for a couple of minutes, taking quick sips of hot tea. The tea burned the back of his throat, and he knew that his tongue would be numb for the rest of the day. He quickly gathered his things, put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and slipped out of the kitchen. He wanted to get away from the awkward silence of the adults. Jess should have made a comment about asking inappropriate questions in front of her father. But first, Danny had to make sure that she wouldn't tell father anything. Once they were in the car and had their seatbelts fastened, the sister resumed the conversation, carefully choosing her words, which made her speech seem unnecessarily slow. There was no liveliness in her voice. ― Please tell me, where were you really? — You'll tell father. — Danny said, leaning against the door handle. Outside the window, the empty morning streets of a small suburban neighborhood passed by, with occasional passersby and dog walkers. ― Is it something to do with the fact that you walk around in your sleep at night? — What makes you think I did that? — Danny looked from the cityscape outside the window to his sister. The girl's red hair was pulled back into a tight braid today, but a blue cloth ribbon still kept the short strands away from her face. Jess, like a good girl and a careful driver, kept both hands on the steering wheel. She didn't take her eyes off the road, even when she clearly wanted to look at her brother. — Listen, Danny, I saw you walking around at night a couple of days ago, and mom is obviously aware of all this. But I'm not some reason, — the girl's voice trembled slightly. — The fewer family members who know, the better, — the teenager replied evasively, absently wiping off a piece of ectoplasm that had stuck to the strap of his backpack after yesterday's fight.. — Listen, if this is another parent experience, I... — It's not related to their research, — Danny looked up at his sister, realizing that she had stopped at the side of the road, wanting to make eye contact with the teenager. — And I'm already dealing with this issue. That's why my mom and I were late yesterday. We visited a doctor and purchased medications. Everything is under control. — But why did you lie to father? To me? — The girl's blue eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt and confusion. Danny would have loved to tell her the truth, but he knew it would only make things worse. She hadn't been present during the exorcisms his father performed on him as a child after his first episode of sleepwalking. And thankfully for herself. — You know, Dad's more of an alternative medicine kind of guy, and he doesn't really believe shrinks. I'm afraid he and Mom will be at odds again on this one, — it wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. Jess briefly looked away and shook her head at her own thoughts. He hoped his story was convincing enough and sounded harmless enough, but he had no idea what else he could do to keep his sister from digging too deeply. There were too many skeletons in their family closet, and she was too vulnerable and clearly not ready to see them all.

***

― Next up is Mr. Fenton. Danny had never been fond of public speaking. It wasn't a fear of the stage or any such phobia. At his aunt's small country fairs, he could happily be the center of attention. But at school... Either his voice suddenly became too quiet, or the audience never seemed interested in his speeches, or perhaps he was just exceptionally stuffy, but the result was always the same. Usually, no one but his teacher and friends listened to him. The first slide of the presentation showed a large family photo of the McDowell's, taken in front of an old house, one of the first that his mother had shown him. Before the teenager could open his mouth, the class began to buzz. — What's that giantess in the middle? — someone in the back row blurted out. — Wendigo, — Danny blurted out without hesitation. The class fell silent. The students looked at him in confusion, as is usually the case when someone hears the Fenton family's ideas for the first time. — At least that's what the superstitious people of Arkansas called her in the late nineteenth century, — the teenager quickly corrected himself with an awkward smile. ― But in general, the McDowell family received a lot of bad attention at the time because it was an open, official marriage between a white man and a member of a local Native American tribe. — So you're a true American, huh? — Dash sounded surprisingly interested, although there was still a touch of sarcasm in his voice. ― That's how it is, ― Danny spread his hands and continued the story by switching to a slide that showed a photo of a reservation settlement. ― This settlement has long been as a reservation, largely due to the efforts of Jeremy McDowell, a member of the medical academy who used his connections to highlight the challenges faced by such settlements. However, the settlement still don't have an internet. — It's a clear illustration of how some stupid racist prejudice can slow down overall progress,― Sam looked much better, given yesterday's breakdown. Or at least she held up well. — Don't even start, — Dash groaned, rolling his eyes. A murmur of quiet displeasure swept through the class. Some of those sitting near the windows reached for the sashes to let some fresh air into the room. It took Danny a great effort not to laugh, lest he offend his friend. The plump teacher tapped his pen on the table, making it clear to the students that they were being too noisy: — In general, Miss Manson is right, but I would ask her not to interrupt her classmate during the presentation with off-topic comments, — the teacher said, adjusting his thick glasses. He gestured for Danny to continue when Mr. Lenser entered the classroom without knocking. — What can we do for you? — the teacher asked his colleague without much interest. — I'd like to take Mr. Fenton away for a while, — Lenser's voice sounded too even. Devoid of the usual emotions evoked by the teenager currently standing at the blackboard. ― Can't it wait until the end of the lesson? ― the teacher seemed clearly annoyed. ― As you can see, the student is busy right now. — I see that, but the principal requires that he visit Mrs. Spectra's office immediately. The classroom was too quiet, except for Polina nervously tapping her fingernails on the tabletop. Danny noticed a bloody band-aid on her pinky, where one of her pink fingernails had been. After the incident in the gym, she had been taken to the school's "shrink," as the school psychologist was known. He hoped that the wound and the visit to the psychologist were unrelated, but Phantom was convinced otherwise. — All right, — the historian exhaled irritably, removing his glasses with a sharp gesture and massaging the bridge of his nose. — But you could have sacrificed your own lesson for this event, Mr. Lenser. Go on, young man, — he waved at the teenager. — We'll hear you out in the next class. Lenser seemed strange. He walked down the hallway in silence, occasionally nudging Fenton in the right direction. He always stood behind him, which annoyed the ghost. The icy air from his throat settled on Fenton's tongue, which had been burned by his morning tea, making him regret not having a spare thermos in his locker. There was something wrong with the teacher. Phantom was certain of it. Penelope Spectra's office was empty and cold. Clouds of steam escaped from the teenager's nostrils, and he knew it wasn't from the cold. As the door closed with a lock, Lancer's body collapsed to the floor like an unconscious carcass, and in its place stood a dark creature. It was made of shadows and a greenish, phosphorescent glow emanating from its mouth, which was filled with short, sharp teeth. The creature didn't give the teenager the right to attack first, and with a swift blow, it knocked the air out of his lungs. The impact was strong enough to knock the boy into the far corner of the room and slam him into the wall, where some glass-framed photos hung. The shards scratched his skin even through the fabric of his T-shirt, but the boy reacted quickly, unleashing his second form. The Phantom didn't fight back. He dove under the floor, his first instinct was to reach his locker. A clawed hand grabbed his hair and threw him towards the window of an empty classroom. Danny barely managed to become intangible to avoid breaking the glass and flew out into the schoolyard from the dining hall. — Was this what you were looking for? — The creature turned his thermos in its claws, leaving a couple of shallow scratches on the casing, and threw it towards the stadium with a strong swing. — Fetch! Danny ignored the manipulation and rushed after the trap, barely dodging the ghost's claws, which left a thin trail on his leg, tearing through the fabric of his black and white jumpsuit. It was as if all his strength was being drained through this shallow wound. Colorful dots danced before his eyes, causing the Phantom to nearly collide with the goal post. The second time, he couldn't escape the spirit's grip at all. The ghost grabbed him by the neck and opened its mouth wide, pressing him to the ground with a force that made him feel like he weighed as much as Jack. Streams of greenish energy poured into its toothy maw, drawn from his body by the otherworldly leech. Despite his exhaustion, the teenager managed to gather enough strength to deliver a precise blow to the monster's body, sending it flying with the help of the ecto-energy that erupted from his palm. His head was spinning, just like when he forced himself to eat his vegan lunch. It was becoming harder to focus. The Fenton thermos was lying on the first bench of the stands. Its chrome casing gleamed even in the dim sunlight, with fresh scratches interrupting its shine. The boy was only a few meters away from the trap when he was knocked down again. "Where is your strength?" the creature whispered through its fangs, pressing the boy to the ground as it opened its mouth again to drain his energy. Phantom, now intangible, sank beneath the turf, giving himself a few seconds to breathe before resurfacing. The leech was destroying him with every touch, and the only sensible thing to do was to keep it at a distance. "It would be easier if I had my thermos with me," the teenager thought as he emerged from beneath the stands. The Ghost lost sight of him, searching the stadium and stands in vain, while the teenager hid in the shadows under the support beams. The creature deliberately stayed close to the trap, circling it like a vulture. It clearly knew the danger the thermos posed in Phantom's hands. "Think, Danny. Think," he commanded himself, feeling his strength draining from the wound on his leg in a greenish stream of pulsing ectoplasm. Instead of falling to the ground, the droplets seemed to dissolve into the air, turning into a faint mist that drifted towards the dark creature. "This thing is devouring you right now. Think." He soared higher, to the very top benches of the stands. Trying not to rush, so that the Leech would notice where the trail of energy she was pulling from him led. Trying to breathe evenly and gather strength for a leap. In front of him was an animal. Smarter than the average representative of large fauna, but still an animal. Sniffing, baring its teeth and hissing. Human speech did not make the creature more like a human. Or at least someone who was once a human. The creature noticed him, it's red eyes fixed on its future prey, and lunged at him with its clawed paws. At the last moment, the Phantom dodged the grip, ducking back under the stands and flying out, grabbing the thermos. But the creature was drawing too much power from him. Sharp claws reached him at the nearest tree and pressed him against the rough bark. They dug into the skin of his face, not intending to let go, and knocked the trap out of his hands with a sweeping gesture, slashing his fingers with their claws. The sharp-toothed mouth was already opening to begin drawing strength from him again when a white cat jumped from the tree onto his dark face. The little beast scratched the creature's scarlet eyes out, and it seriously distracted it from the Phantom. Taking advantage of this, the teenager broke free from the creature's grip and picked up the thermos from the ground. The ghost tore the cat from his face and flung the animal with a furious gesture, so that the small body hit the chain-link fence with a pitiful and painful squeak. This cat was not even worthy of being food for a ghostly Leech. Taking advantage of the spirit's confusion, the Phantom activated the thermos and trapped another spirit that had caused enough trouble to make the teenager feel no pity. Closing the thermos lid tightly, Danny looked around, but the injured cat had disappeared. It seemed that the poor creature had been more frightened than injured by the creature's actions. At least, that's what the Phantom wanted to believe as he transformed back into his human form and disappeared behind the school's walls. His stomach was painfully empty again, but today he had a little hope of getting full. Even from here, he could smell the raw meat in the refrigerators in the school cafeteria kitchen.

***

The next day at school, Danny showed up in high spirits. Despite the slight feeling of drowsiness due to medications and the tense grumbling of his father at breakfast. After getting rid of the otherworldly leeches, the teenager felt much better. This condition was also improved last night. Sipping pineapple juice through a straw, Felton tossed his backpack into a locker with a flick of his wrist, having first attached Fenton thermos to his belt with a carabiner. The previous evening's visit to the "Birdies" had recharged his energy. It was a pleasure to witness the transformation of these tired and hungry creatures. — Hey, how's it going, man? — Tucker came up behind him with a friendly hug. — You look better today than you did yesterday. — Yes, that's true, — Danny closed his beloved "damned" locker and took another sip of juice. The pleasant sourness tingled on the tip of his tongue, reminding him of the smell of last night's dinner, "Birdies". He had traded two captured ghosts for cloned blood for the young vampires. When they had the opportunity to eat properly, there was nothing but genuine adoration and a willingness to follow him anywhere for such a simple joy in their eyes. That evening, Fenton could have sworn that he could physically feel Weston's envy. The Birds seemed to know that he was thinking about them at that particular moment. As they flew at him with their arms outstretched, they pushed Tucker aside in order to kiss Danny on the cheek. ― Thank you! I've never felt so full! ― Catherine hugged the boy tightly. Even through her thick knitted bomber, the boy could feel her soft breasts. ― It was really delicious, ― Sophie echoed her friend, leaving a lipstick mark on the boy's cheek. The girls ran down the hallway, laughing, and turned back to see the boy blushing from ear to ear. — I don't know how you did it, but thank you, — Alice left a modest kiss on the boy's temple. — They've bloomed. Sam looked much more stern than usual, watching her friend wipe off the lipstick-shaped lips of the cheerleaders. Her expression was somewhat similar to Weston's when the "Birds" had been drinking blood from the medical bags yesterday. — So, I'm waiting for an explanation, — Samantha said, tossing him a wet wipe with disgust. — You sound like you're his girlfriend, — Tucker chuckled, accepting a juice bag from his friend and beginning to study the label carefully. ― But if you still have plans for his humble one, I would hope that it has nothing to do with "Birds," — Tucker mockingly pointed Sam at a bag of pineapple juice before Danny took it away. — What the hell are you talking about? — he exclaimed, throwing a used napkin into the trash. ― What, it really works, Fentonowski? ― Dash leaned his full weight on Danny's shoulders, shamelessly staring at the juice packet in the teenager's hands. — What are you all talking about? — The teenager blushed even more than before. It would have been easier to live if he could keep up with the trends and myths that were proliferating online as fast as bacteria in a Petri dish in his parents' lab. He knew in the back of his mind that it was something inappropriate. But he felt even more ashamed because he didn't know what it was.

***

The castle in Wisconsin greeted Vlad with its usual gloomy grandeur, emanating a sense of unease and fear. His clan was concerned about the recent intrusion, and as he had discovered, for good reason. According to his informants, the intruders had survived. Although they would not be returning to active duty for some time. Their memories of the mansion had been erased, but they still posed a threat to the members of the clan. Diana met him sitting in a comfortable deep armchair in front of the fireplace, studying the latest reports of the laboratory technicians on the laptop screen. Wearily taking off her glasses with a thin metal frame, the woman turned around at the sound of footsteps. She looked Vlad up and down, lingering on a pair of futuristic thermoses in his hands. Worn, with traces of claws, they would have attracted attention even without additional buttons on the lids. — What is it? — she asked, pointing fastidiously at the vessels in the man's hands. — Our new test subjects, — Masters replied with a smile, showing off his sharp fangs without hesitation.