spectrolite
New Member
I have posted this elsewhere, but this is one of the favorite things I've written. I deeply enjoyed writing the exasperation of each character in this opening. I'm obsessed with openings. .
This was supposed to be a ghost hunting alternative universe (inspired by the Ghost Hunt anime), but I didn't finish it.
TW: Language, mentions of violence, ghosts, supernatural...
---
“Today we have a very special guest, a man shrouded with much controversy, and a dark mystique—Mr. Kylo Ren!” Announces a very excited Richard O’Neil, a famous reporter who now hosted his own talk show. He was just passing middle-age with graying hair and a dignified demeanor. He smiles kindly at the camera, before turning his attention to his guest.
The screen flickers from O’Neil to a dark figure in the chair opposite. The lighting is dimmed to candlelight, as if to set the mood into something more mysterious and dark as suggested. Kylo Ren’s black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and is wore round-framed glasses that looked particularly awkward on his face. His clothes were, of course, black, although he did wear a polished looking suit. His expression was positively uninterested, and an awkward silence filled the room, until he seemed to realize, much to his anguish, that it was his turn to speak.
“Thanks, Richard,” he says in a deep, monotone voice.
To which, Richard shifts in his chair, he had a history of dealing with the less approachable characters, so this was no different. “We’re so glad you took the time to come and speak with us today, Kylo, as it is indeed a rare opportunity. Shall we waste no time in getting into the details?”
Ren inclines his head in agreement, but says no more.
“Excellent, then could describe to our viewers who may not know who you are, what it is you do?”
“I have the ability to receive, and interpret messages from different energies or entities. I use this knowledge to aid those who might be dealing with particularly strong, or negative energies.”
“You communicate with the dead?”
Something flashes across Ren’s impassive face, and his jaw clenches as he responds dryly, “I don’t see dead people.” He seems to settle back again to boredom, “communication implies far too much. There is no conversation, there is only suggestions.”
“Suggestions?”
“It is like a faulty radio. Only bits and pieces get through. From that I have to interpret what it means.”
“Interesting… Then how can you identify a person’s deceased loved one?”
“To be frank? I cannot.” Ren adjusts the glasses as they slide down his prominent nose, “Not for certain. Speaking to your dead family is not what I advertise. It is not like a movie, where the projected outline of a person appears before your eyes… However, I do get visions and emotions from the entity. That can lead me to the assumption, that this is indeed that person.”
“What do the dead look like, then?”
Ren cocks his head to the side, seemingly undecided between amusement and irritation, “Nothing. Like I said, I can’t see them.”
“So, do you sense any entities in the studio, at this moment?”
“No.”
Richard O’Neil chuckles lightly, “How disappointing. What would you suggest, to those who aren’t as sensitive to the spirits as you, whether or not they have a real problem on their hands?”
“Your pets.”
“Pardon?”
“Animals are particularly sensitive to these energies, and if they sense something that they feel is a danger—they will react first. If your pet starts acting more restless, or even frightened, then you have a problem.”
“And if someone doesn’t have pets?”
“People are animals too… Trust your instincts—”
Rey mutes the television, slamming the magazine down on the counter, “What a load of horseshit.” She really couldn’t understand who believed this shit. It was all a hoax to get more money from those too naïve to know otherwise, or too desperate for any kind of answer.
A young girl stands in a dark hall way, watching the door creak open, the light is blinding. The man’s figure disappears into it, and she screams after him… “Don’t leave me all alone!” The figure pauses, and he says something… “I’ll be back, wait for me.”
“Rey, Rey,” she is snapped back from her daydream by her very fussy, very short boss.
Rey was twenty years old, in college, but currently off for the summer working her part-time job at the local trinket shop. She had long brown hair that she kept tied back in a ponytail, and freckles that had gotten significantly worse with the warming weather. “Ah, sorry Maz,” she mutters apologetically.
The short woman frowns, but it isn’t an angry one so much as concerned. “Rey, I hate to tell you this, but I’m shutting down the shop early this season.”
Rey shoots up, off her stool, “ What? Why?!”
Maz smiles almost dreamily, “The husband surprised me with a cruise.”
Rey tries to hide her desperation; she really was counting on this job to get her through the summer. And she didn’t have a backup plan. “Ah, that sounds nice.”
Maz nods, and looks at her kindly, “I will pay you for the weekend too, as you have paid vacation.”
She’s pretty sure that she hasn’t been working long enough to get a paid vacation, but she doesn’t complain. Maz was always good to her. “Thank you, Maz.”
The woman gives her a grin, and pats her on the shoulder, “Don’t forget to lock up before you go.”
She nods, and watches Maz leave for the night before continuing with her closing duties. On her way out, she snags a newspaper from the rack, figuring it was time to start perusing the Help Wanted ads.
She walks the quarter of a mile back towards her house. She lived in a small suburban town where nothing ever happened and everyone knew each other. Maz, she had not known long, but knew well. Street lights that were years old, that glowed a soft yellow guided her route home. Shedding little tear drops of light that she stepped into.
Within passing the park, Rey hears a soft whimper. She spots a dog whose collar appears to be snagged on a bush. It was thrashing and tugging, but when it pulled too have Rey heard the dog wheeze. She knew the dog: it lived in a house not far from here, and was notorious for running away. She shook her head and approached. It whimpered again, as she reached him, but she ignores it as she pulls the collar free from the bush. Once it was free the dog tears away from her, racing back to wherever it came from. She scoffs at the typicality; Rey never was good with dogs or cats. They seemed to avoid her.
----
“Thank you for the insight,” O’Neil says in what you don’t need to be a medium to sense is a condescending tone.
Kylo bites the inside of his cheek and nods, not trusting himself to speak at present. It would likely have been rude. Which prompts O’Neil to fire his next question.
“Now, are you the only one in your family that possesses these particular talents?”
His hands grip the leather chair’s arms dangerously tight. This was not a topic brought up in the dress rehearsal. It was not what he came here to discuss. Nonetheless, he gives a short answer, hoping to move on quickly, “No, my mother did as well.”
“And your father?”
He can taste blood in his mouth, “ No .”
“You were present at the murder of your father, did you sense some spirit entanglements with the case?”
Ren stands and rips off the mic. He throws it to the floor as he storms out of the interview. All he can see is red, and all he can taste is the salty, iron blood in his mouth. But he can’t feel anything. So, he stops in the hall and punches the wall. The drywall cracks under his fist, and his hand goes through with a satisfying crunch. He hears startled gasps behind him, and turns to see two middle aged women looking scandalized by his behavior. So, he breathes… And slowly pulls his fist from the hole. As he straightens up he gives the women a brief nod before continuing on his way out.
He calls his agent in the parking lot, “I specifically said no questions relating to that .” Each word is enunciated carefully in fury.
Snoke on the other line sounds bored, “Can you blame them? It was all over the news… It’s probably the only reason you got this interview to begin with.”
“It’s not what I came to talk about.”
“Did they talk about your stuff?”
Ren scoffs, “Hardly. They treated me like I was a joke .”
“Better than a monster.”
Ren breathes in deeply, remembering the headlines that followed him around for a year and a half now. Monster , kills his own father… Will they plead insanity? “That’s not the point. I’m not going back in.”
“If that is what you deem best.” Snoke had a way of making Kylo feel small or inadequate. “I got a case for you.”
Kylo pinches the bridge of his nose, remembering the last few cases he had received as anything less than satisfactory. Two faked possessions, and one paranoid old man. “It better be good.”
Snoke lets out a chuckle, which is sinister enough to give Kylo goosebumps through the receiver. “ Oh,” he said, “it’s a good one.”
----
Rey spent the majority of her night re-watching Scrubs and eating chocolate as she flipped through the Wanted ads in the newspaper. She doesn’t find anything of interest, until she come across a curious personal ad. Brave soul needed, must be tech savvy and able-bodied. Respond at 555-4790. Which, unable to contain her excitement, Rey calls at some time passing midnight. Surprisingly, a voice answers that sounds equally as awake. “Hello, this is Finn from DPI speaking, how can I be of service?”
Rey shifts, “Hello! Um, hi, this is Rey, calling, I saw your ad in the paper…”
“Oh! Hello, Rey! Yes, I need someone to help set up my tech to conduct research.”
“I know my way around computers, and I’m sure I could adjust to your needs.”
“Perfect!” Finn chuckles on the other line, “Say, why don’t we met up tomorrow, you know, at a normal hour?”
Rey blushes, and looks up at the clock that reads much embarrassingly late. “Yeah, sounds good. Where do you want to meet?”
Rey goes to sleep content. And in the morning she heads to the local library with a spring in her step. She waits at the entrance, until she sees a bright, handsome man approach. He is wearing just a regular pair of jeans, and a Ghostbusters tee shirt with a brown leather jacket thrown over it. There was a patch of red at one shoulder. Instantly, she knows that is Finn from the ad, so she waves him down.
“Hey,” he greets with a mile-wide smile of beautiful pearly whites.
She likes him already, she decides. “Hey, it’s Rey,” she offers her hand.
He shakes it, “Finn,” and then gestures for her to follow him. He leads her over to a recluse table, tucked behind a few bookcases that will give them some privacy. It feels very spy movie-esque, which amuses her greatly. Finn begins. “My research is a bit of a sensitive topic, so don’t laugh when I tell you.”
Rey wants to laugh, just at that statement, trying to imagine what ridiculous thing Finn could be researching. However, his expression is so serious that she cannot fault him for it. Instead, she nods, “Ok, I’ll keep an open mind.”
Finn nods, “that’s all I ask… So, the business is called Discrete Paranormal Investigation.” He pauses, as if to wait and see if Rey has gone off screaming yet. She hasn’t. “I’m trying to use technology to explain… Well, the unexplainable. To get some answers. I know it sounds crazy, I really do… But your job isn’t necessarily to believe. It is to help set up the equipment and make sure it is accurately recording.”
Rey can’t honestly say she is interested in such research… But she really doesn’t have the opportunity to be picky. “Alright, I’m game.”
Finn looks, astonished, like he can’t believe she has just agreed. “That’s… Great! Look, there are, of course, safety measures that we will have to go over. But I’m so glad to have you on board!”
----
Hux didn’t understand how he always got dealt the shortest straw. The game was clearly rigged… First it was the poaching of seals in Alaska, then it was the economic impacts of wastes sites. And now, it was to follow around some nutcase as he supposedly solved a supernatural haunting. So, it had gone from freezing his ass off, to a landfill of smelly trash, to a ghost story. As it was likely full of shit, he’d like to go back to the landfill of trash. At least the landfill was honest.
Nonetheless, it was a job, as a sultry reporter, to go to anything that his boss assigned him. And as he boarded the plane, to go to a small town in Connecticut, he seriously contemplated quitting. However, the flight itself wasn’t bad, and the hotel accommodations was definitely better than the previous jobs. He counts it as a victory, as he scopes out the neighborhood, which is also surprisingly pleasant. Around noon, the next day, he gets a call from his boss telling him the address of said haunted site.
When he pulls up the site, after following a long, winding dirt path he can’t contain the shiver that crawls up his spine. Although skeptical, he cannot deny that it is a fitting place for a haunting. The building is a quaint, and wooden with paint peeling from abandonment. The lawn was overgrown, and somewhere in the weeds a sign that said St. Claire’s Primary School on it.
There were already two vehicles scattered on the lawn, so Hux pulls his little rental up to the side. He gets out and immediately lights up a cigarette, the nicotine soothing and reassuring. He glances over at the big, black van, and sees a young girl with brown hair and freckles appear from behind it, lugging a huge box in her arms. “Who are you?” he drawls, not offering to help as finishing this cigarette is much more important at the moment.
She doesn’t seem to mind, just shots him a small smile as she adjusts the box in her grip, “Rey, I’m Finn’s assistant.”
“Finn?” he asks.
Only they’re interrupted by a man who comes charging out of the building, “wooah Rey, that’s the heaviest box.” The man, Finn, Hux assumes tries to take the box from her hands.
She refuses, “This is my job . Forget it. You can untangle all the wires in the back.” With that she disappears into the building.
Finn smiles after her, and then turns his attention back towards Hux. “Finn of DPI, at your service.”
“Hux, with the US Weekly,” Hux says automatically, before posing a question, “DPI?”
“Stands for Discrete Paranormal Investigation, which is what we are.”
Hux can feel a headache coming on, filled with the distinct fear of not finding one normal person here. “Nice. Who else is here?” he gestures toward the other car.
“Finn! I could really use those wires now!” calls Rey from inside.
“Working on it!” he shouts back before nodding at Hux, “sometimes I think I work for her. The owner of the place is inside, along with a priest.”
Hux nods as Finn runs back to the van to untangle said wires. He drops the cigarette, and stubs it out with his boot. It looks like the subject to his story has not yet made an appearance, so he decides to head inside.
Inside, he spots Rey unpacking in one room what looks like a series of cameras and monitors. He doesn’t waste his time on it, and instead moves further down the hallway. It looked like a two story building, with maybe six classrooms downstairs, a main lobby, and a staircase at the end of the hall. Everything was made of wood, which made him question the age of the it, all questions for the owner when he met them. He carried on upstairs, and followed the voices into the first room on the left.
“This was where the first sounds were made,” says an older woman to a young man.
The young man has dark, curly hair and a knowing smile. He wore a green tee shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. The priest, Hux assumes is the first to notice his entrance. “Hello?”
Hux nods, “I’m Hux, with US Weekly.” He turns to the older woman, “You’re the owner, I assume?”
She nods, “yes, I am Shelly Williams, I’ve owned the property for many years. It was passed down to me.” She gestures towards the young man, “this is Poe Dameron, he is a dear friend and a priest.”
Dameron gives him a nervous smile, “I’m not a priest yet, but I am skilled in such matters as this.”
Hux raises an eyebrow, “And what is this , exactly?”
Dameron looks ready to respond, but the old lady does before he can, “A haunting.”
----
Kylo arrives late to the location, but already feels unsettled the moment they pull up. His assistant, Phasma gets out of the car first, and opens the door for him. He is already pulling on his gloves, before he steps out, not willing to have an unwanted transmission while he toured the place. His senses were already heightened enough. “It certainly looks the part,” Phasma says as they approach.
Ren doesn’t comment. He begins to walk the perimeter of the building, from the outside, as he often did. When he hears chatter from inside the building. Then a pause. “Kylo Ren!”
“Mr. Ren!” another voice calls, and he is forced to stop and turn around. An old woman comes bustling out the building towards him. She grabs his hand, and he thanks himself for his precaution in the car, “I’m so thankful that you’ve come… I fear that I will pass soon, and I had no idea what to do with the place.”
He gives her a sharp nod, “of course, Mrs. Williams.”
Phasma jumps in to save him, “we are just checking the perimeter, and then we’d like to ask you to give us a tour of your lovely school.”
“Of course, of course,” the woman nods, “first, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of the team.”
Kylo tries his best not to groan. The more people, the worse it was to get a clear picture. Their energies would knock his senses off balance. And they were messy and loud. He glanced over at the crowd standing in the entranceway.
“That strapping young man, is Poe Dameron a priest— “
“Almost one,” he interjects.
“The grumpy looking one,” Mrs. Williams continues.
“I resent that—!”
“---Is a reporter for US Weekly. And the other two are Finn from DPI and his assistant, Rey.”
He nods politely to them, and then turns his attention back to the task at hand. Luckily, Phasma is able to steer the woman’s attention away from him with conversation. Which is what he paid her for, truthfully. He continues to walk the perimeter alone, trying his best to ignore the mix of conversations.
“How long did you say you’ve owned this building for?” Phasma and Williams continue to chat about the school itself. Some information relevant enough for him to listen every so often.
“—do you think he knows what color is?” the girl says sarcastically to the other two.
The reporter chuckles, “just as long as he doesn’t go around saying, I wear black because it matches my soul, I’ll ignore it at present.”
He returns back after a cycle, and stops before the owner. “I’m ready to see the inside.”
----
Rey can’t help but find it ironic that she ended up in this situation. After all, she had been calling Kylo Ren’s bullshit at the interview while sitting in Maz’s shop not so long ago. Now, she was trailing behind the tall, dark, mysterious man in person. And he was taller in person, like, really tall. The chatter of information filled the stale air around them, but Rey did pick up a few things. Although the history of the building itself did not really interest her, apparently it had been a school for less fortunate kids in the early nineteenth century, and was used up until the sixties when finally they got better facilities.
They’re just about to finish up an uneventful tour, when Kylo Ren suddenly stops mid-step. His foot even hovers a moment. Rey awkwardly bumps into the back of him. “What the hell— ,” she scoffs, only to be silenced by the palm of his gloved hand in her face.
“Phasma,” he says calmly, before his body suddenly goes limp, and is falling to the floor like a pile of wet, unexpected noodles. His assistant is there, however, catching him like this is completely normal.
Needless to say, everyone else is quite startled. They back up, creating some space for the pair while Ren’s head was carefully cradled in Phasma’s lap.
“What the fuck was that— ?” says Hux from the corner, looking vaguely impressed. As if he could at least commend the man for superb acting skills.
Phasma shakes her head, “It happens when he had a particularly strong connection with the entity.”
Finn looks down at the man, who still shows no signs of moving with concern, “Is he… alright?”
She nods. “Yes, he should come out of it in a few minutes.”
“How often does it happen?” Rey asks. She had a feeling that having such a big guy collapse frequently was not a great advantage.
Phasma shakes her head, “Not often.”
And suddenly he jerks awake like he had been held underwater. His body shudders for breath, and his eyes are glazed over. They flicker back and forth, unseeing, but as though seeing everything. It lasts an eerie moment, before he blinks. The brown of his eyes were clear again. Wetting his lips, as if they are dry, he wildly searches the room. His eyes land on Rey.
She feels uncomfortable under his gaze… It looks haunted . She tries to look away, but she can’t quite do it… Not when he raises his hand, and points directly at her. “Something is on you.”
Rey’s blood runs cold. “You’re crazy ,” she accuses, her own mouth dry and the words come out flat.
A shiver runs down her spine as she turns away and storms down the hall.
This was supposed to be a ghost hunting alternative universe (inspired by the Ghost Hunt anime), but I didn't finish it.
TW: Language, mentions of violence, ghosts, supernatural...
---
“Today we have a very special guest, a man shrouded with much controversy, and a dark mystique—Mr. Kylo Ren!” Announces a very excited Richard O’Neil, a famous reporter who now hosted his own talk show. He was just passing middle-age with graying hair and a dignified demeanor. He smiles kindly at the camera, before turning his attention to his guest.
The screen flickers from O’Neil to a dark figure in the chair opposite. The lighting is dimmed to candlelight, as if to set the mood into something more mysterious and dark as suggested. Kylo Ren’s black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and is wore round-framed glasses that looked particularly awkward on his face. His clothes were, of course, black, although he did wear a polished looking suit. His expression was positively uninterested, and an awkward silence filled the room, until he seemed to realize, much to his anguish, that it was his turn to speak.
“Thanks, Richard,” he says in a deep, monotone voice.
To which, Richard shifts in his chair, he had a history of dealing with the less approachable characters, so this was no different. “We’re so glad you took the time to come and speak with us today, Kylo, as it is indeed a rare opportunity. Shall we waste no time in getting into the details?”
Ren inclines his head in agreement, but says no more.
“Excellent, then could describe to our viewers who may not know who you are, what it is you do?”
“I have the ability to receive, and interpret messages from different energies or entities. I use this knowledge to aid those who might be dealing with particularly strong, or negative energies.”
“You communicate with the dead?”
Something flashes across Ren’s impassive face, and his jaw clenches as he responds dryly, “I don’t see dead people.” He seems to settle back again to boredom, “communication implies far too much. There is no conversation, there is only suggestions.”
“Suggestions?”
“It is like a faulty radio. Only bits and pieces get through. From that I have to interpret what it means.”
“Interesting… Then how can you identify a person’s deceased loved one?”
“To be frank? I cannot.” Ren adjusts the glasses as they slide down his prominent nose, “Not for certain. Speaking to your dead family is not what I advertise. It is not like a movie, where the projected outline of a person appears before your eyes… However, I do get visions and emotions from the entity. That can lead me to the assumption, that this is indeed that person.”
“What do the dead look like, then?”
Ren cocks his head to the side, seemingly undecided between amusement and irritation, “Nothing. Like I said, I can’t see them.”
“So, do you sense any entities in the studio, at this moment?”
“No.”
Richard O’Neil chuckles lightly, “How disappointing. What would you suggest, to those who aren’t as sensitive to the spirits as you, whether or not they have a real problem on their hands?”
“Your pets.”
“Pardon?”
“Animals are particularly sensitive to these energies, and if they sense something that they feel is a danger—they will react first. If your pet starts acting more restless, or even frightened, then you have a problem.”
“And if someone doesn’t have pets?”
“People are animals too… Trust your instincts—”
Rey mutes the television, slamming the magazine down on the counter, “What a load of horseshit.” She really couldn’t understand who believed this shit. It was all a hoax to get more money from those too naïve to know otherwise, or too desperate for any kind of answer.
A young girl stands in a dark hall way, watching the door creak open, the light is blinding. The man’s figure disappears into it, and she screams after him… “Don’t leave me all alone!” The figure pauses, and he says something… “I’ll be back, wait for me.”
“Rey, Rey,” she is snapped back from her daydream by her very fussy, very short boss.
Rey was twenty years old, in college, but currently off for the summer working her part-time job at the local trinket shop. She had long brown hair that she kept tied back in a ponytail, and freckles that had gotten significantly worse with the warming weather. “Ah, sorry Maz,” she mutters apologetically.
The short woman frowns, but it isn’t an angry one so much as concerned. “Rey, I hate to tell you this, but I’m shutting down the shop early this season.”
Rey shoots up, off her stool, “ What? Why?!”
Maz smiles almost dreamily, “The husband surprised me with a cruise.”
Rey tries to hide her desperation; she really was counting on this job to get her through the summer. And she didn’t have a backup plan. “Ah, that sounds nice.”
Maz nods, and looks at her kindly, “I will pay you for the weekend too, as you have paid vacation.”
She’s pretty sure that she hasn’t been working long enough to get a paid vacation, but she doesn’t complain. Maz was always good to her. “Thank you, Maz.”
The woman gives her a grin, and pats her on the shoulder, “Don’t forget to lock up before you go.”
She nods, and watches Maz leave for the night before continuing with her closing duties. On her way out, she snags a newspaper from the rack, figuring it was time to start perusing the Help Wanted ads.
She walks the quarter of a mile back towards her house. She lived in a small suburban town where nothing ever happened and everyone knew each other. Maz, she had not known long, but knew well. Street lights that were years old, that glowed a soft yellow guided her route home. Shedding little tear drops of light that she stepped into.
Within passing the park, Rey hears a soft whimper. She spots a dog whose collar appears to be snagged on a bush. It was thrashing and tugging, but when it pulled too have Rey heard the dog wheeze. She knew the dog: it lived in a house not far from here, and was notorious for running away. She shook her head and approached. It whimpered again, as she reached him, but she ignores it as she pulls the collar free from the bush. Once it was free the dog tears away from her, racing back to wherever it came from. She scoffs at the typicality; Rey never was good with dogs or cats. They seemed to avoid her.
----
“Thank you for the insight,” O’Neil says in what you don’t need to be a medium to sense is a condescending tone.
Kylo bites the inside of his cheek and nods, not trusting himself to speak at present. It would likely have been rude. Which prompts O’Neil to fire his next question.
“Now, are you the only one in your family that possesses these particular talents?”
His hands grip the leather chair’s arms dangerously tight. This was not a topic brought up in the dress rehearsal. It was not what he came here to discuss. Nonetheless, he gives a short answer, hoping to move on quickly, “No, my mother did as well.”
“And your father?”
He can taste blood in his mouth, “ No .”
“You were present at the murder of your father, did you sense some spirit entanglements with the case?”
Ren stands and rips off the mic. He throws it to the floor as he storms out of the interview. All he can see is red, and all he can taste is the salty, iron blood in his mouth. But he can’t feel anything. So, he stops in the hall and punches the wall. The drywall cracks under his fist, and his hand goes through with a satisfying crunch. He hears startled gasps behind him, and turns to see two middle aged women looking scandalized by his behavior. So, he breathes… And slowly pulls his fist from the hole. As he straightens up he gives the women a brief nod before continuing on his way out.
He calls his agent in the parking lot, “I specifically said no questions relating to that .” Each word is enunciated carefully in fury.
Snoke on the other line sounds bored, “Can you blame them? It was all over the news… It’s probably the only reason you got this interview to begin with.”
“It’s not what I came to talk about.”
“Did they talk about your stuff?”
Ren scoffs, “Hardly. They treated me like I was a joke .”
“Better than a monster.”
Ren breathes in deeply, remembering the headlines that followed him around for a year and a half now. Monster , kills his own father… Will they plead insanity? “That’s not the point. I’m not going back in.”
“If that is what you deem best.” Snoke had a way of making Kylo feel small or inadequate. “I got a case for you.”
Kylo pinches the bridge of his nose, remembering the last few cases he had received as anything less than satisfactory. Two faked possessions, and one paranoid old man. “It better be good.”
Snoke lets out a chuckle, which is sinister enough to give Kylo goosebumps through the receiver. “ Oh,” he said, “it’s a good one.”
----
Rey spent the majority of her night re-watching Scrubs and eating chocolate as she flipped through the Wanted ads in the newspaper. She doesn’t find anything of interest, until she come across a curious personal ad. Brave soul needed, must be tech savvy and able-bodied. Respond at 555-4790. Which, unable to contain her excitement, Rey calls at some time passing midnight. Surprisingly, a voice answers that sounds equally as awake. “Hello, this is Finn from DPI speaking, how can I be of service?”
Rey shifts, “Hello! Um, hi, this is Rey, calling, I saw your ad in the paper…”
“Oh! Hello, Rey! Yes, I need someone to help set up my tech to conduct research.”
“I know my way around computers, and I’m sure I could adjust to your needs.”
“Perfect!” Finn chuckles on the other line, “Say, why don’t we met up tomorrow, you know, at a normal hour?”
Rey blushes, and looks up at the clock that reads much embarrassingly late. “Yeah, sounds good. Where do you want to meet?”
Rey goes to sleep content. And in the morning she heads to the local library with a spring in her step. She waits at the entrance, until she sees a bright, handsome man approach. He is wearing just a regular pair of jeans, and a Ghostbusters tee shirt with a brown leather jacket thrown over it. There was a patch of red at one shoulder. Instantly, she knows that is Finn from the ad, so she waves him down.
“Hey,” he greets with a mile-wide smile of beautiful pearly whites.
She likes him already, she decides. “Hey, it’s Rey,” she offers her hand.
He shakes it, “Finn,” and then gestures for her to follow him. He leads her over to a recluse table, tucked behind a few bookcases that will give them some privacy. It feels very spy movie-esque, which amuses her greatly. Finn begins. “My research is a bit of a sensitive topic, so don’t laugh when I tell you.”
Rey wants to laugh, just at that statement, trying to imagine what ridiculous thing Finn could be researching. However, his expression is so serious that she cannot fault him for it. Instead, she nods, “Ok, I’ll keep an open mind.”
Finn nods, “that’s all I ask… So, the business is called Discrete Paranormal Investigation.” He pauses, as if to wait and see if Rey has gone off screaming yet. She hasn’t. “I’m trying to use technology to explain… Well, the unexplainable. To get some answers. I know it sounds crazy, I really do… But your job isn’t necessarily to believe. It is to help set up the equipment and make sure it is accurately recording.”
Rey can’t honestly say she is interested in such research… But she really doesn’t have the opportunity to be picky. “Alright, I’m game.”
Finn looks, astonished, like he can’t believe she has just agreed. “That’s… Great! Look, there are, of course, safety measures that we will have to go over. But I’m so glad to have you on board!”
----
Hux didn’t understand how he always got dealt the shortest straw. The game was clearly rigged… First it was the poaching of seals in Alaska, then it was the economic impacts of wastes sites. And now, it was to follow around some nutcase as he supposedly solved a supernatural haunting. So, it had gone from freezing his ass off, to a landfill of smelly trash, to a ghost story. As it was likely full of shit, he’d like to go back to the landfill of trash. At least the landfill was honest.
Nonetheless, it was a job, as a sultry reporter, to go to anything that his boss assigned him. And as he boarded the plane, to go to a small town in Connecticut, he seriously contemplated quitting. However, the flight itself wasn’t bad, and the hotel accommodations was definitely better than the previous jobs. He counts it as a victory, as he scopes out the neighborhood, which is also surprisingly pleasant. Around noon, the next day, he gets a call from his boss telling him the address of said haunted site.
When he pulls up the site, after following a long, winding dirt path he can’t contain the shiver that crawls up his spine. Although skeptical, he cannot deny that it is a fitting place for a haunting. The building is a quaint, and wooden with paint peeling from abandonment. The lawn was overgrown, and somewhere in the weeds a sign that said St. Claire’s Primary School on it.
There were already two vehicles scattered on the lawn, so Hux pulls his little rental up to the side. He gets out and immediately lights up a cigarette, the nicotine soothing and reassuring. He glances over at the big, black van, and sees a young girl with brown hair and freckles appear from behind it, lugging a huge box in her arms. “Who are you?” he drawls, not offering to help as finishing this cigarette is much more important at the moment.
She doesn’t seem to mind, just shots him a small smile as she adjusts the box in her grip, “Rey, I’m Finn’s assistant.”
“Finn?” he asks.
Only they’re interrupted by a man who comes charging out of the building, “wooah Rey, that’s the heaviest box.” The man, Finn, Hux assumes tries to take the box from her hands.
She refuses, “This is my job . Forget it. You can untangle all the wires in the back.” With that she disappears into the building.
Finn smiles after her, and then turns his attention back towards Hux. “Finn of DPI, at your service.”
“Hux, with the US Weekly,” Hux says automatically, before posing a question, “DPI?”
“Stands for Discrete Paranormal Investigation, which is what we are.”
Hux can feel a headache coming on, filled with the distinct fear of not finding one normal person here. “Nice. Who else is here?” he gestures toward the other car.
“Finn! I could really use those wires now!” calls Rey from inside.
“Working on it!” he shouts back before nodding at Hux, “sometimes I think I work for her. The owner of the place is inside, along with a priest.”
Hux nods as Finn runs back to the van to untangle said wires. He drops the cigarette, and stubs it out with his boot. It looks like the subject to his story has not yet made an appearance, so he decides to head inside.
Inside, he spots Rey unpacking in one room what looks like a series of cameras and monitors. He doesn’t waste his time on it, and instead moves further down the hallway. It looked like a two story building, with maybe six classrooms downstairs, a main lobby, and a staircase at the end of the hall. Everything was made of wood, which made him question the age of the it, all questions for the owner when he met them. He carried on upstairs, and followed the voices into the first room on the left.
“This was where the first sounds were made,” says an older woman to a young man.
The young man has dark, curly hair and a knowing smile. He wore a green tee shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. The priest, Hux assumes is the first to notice his entrance. “Hello?”
Hux nods, “I’m Hux, with US Weekly.” He turns to the older woman, “You’re the owner, I assume?”
She nods, “yes, I am Shelly Williams, I’ve owned the property for many years. It was passed down to me.” She gestures towards the young man, “this is Poe Dameron, he is a dear friend and a priest.”
Dameron gives him a nervous smile, “I’m not a priest yet, but I am skilled in such matters as this.”
Hux raises an eyebrow, “And what is this , exactly?”
Dameron looks ready to respond, but the old lady does before he can, “A haunting.”
----
Kylo arrives late to the location, but already feels unsettled the moment they pull up. His assistant, Phasma gets out of the car first, and opens the door for him. He is already pulling on his gloves, before he steps out, not willing to have an unwanted transmission while he toured the place. His senses were already heightened enough. “It certainly looks the part,” Phasma says as they approach.
Ren doesn’t comment. He begins to walk the perimeter of the building, from the outside, as he often did. When he hears chatter from inside the building. Then a pause. “Kylo Ren!”
“Mr. Ren!” another voice calls, and he is forced to stop and turn around. An old woman comes bustling out the building towards him. She grabs his hand, and he thanks himself for his precaution in the car, “I’m so thankful that you’ve come… I fear that I will pass soon, and I had no idea what to do with the place.”
He gives her a sharp nod, “of course, Mrs. Williams.”
Phasma jumps in to save him, “we are just checking the perimeter, and then we’d like to ask you to give us a tour of your lovely school.”
“Of course, of course,” the woman nods, “first, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of the team.”
Kylo tries his best not to groan. The more people, the worse it was to get a clear picture. Their energies would knock his senses off balance. And they were messy and loud. He glanced over at the crowd standing in the entranceway.
“That strapping young man, is Poe Dameron a priest— “
“Almost one,” he interjects.
“The grumpy looking one,” Mrs. Williams continues.
“I resent that—!”
“---Is a reporter for US Weekly. And the other two are Finn from DPI and his assistant, Rey.”
He nods politely to them, and then turns his attention back to the task at hand. Luckily, Phasma is able to steer the woman’s attention away from him with conversation. Which is what he paid her for, truthfully. He continues to walk the perimeter alone, trying his best to ignore the mix of conversations.
“How long did you say you’ve owned this building for?” Phasma and Williams continue to chat about the school itself. Some information relevant enough for him to listen every so often.
“—do you think he knows what color is?” the girl says sarcastically to the other two.
The reporter chuckles, “just as long as he doesn’t go around saying, I wear black because it matches my soul, I’ll ignore it at present.”
He returns back after a cycle, and stops before the owner. “I’m ready to see the inside.”
----
Rey can’t help but find it ironic that she ended up in this situation. After all, she had been calling Kylo Ren’s bullshit at the interview while sitting in Maz’s shop not so long ago. Now, she was trailing behind the tall, dark, mysterious man in person. And he was taller in person, like, really tall. The chatter of information filled the stale air around them, but Rey did pick up a few things. Although the history of the building itself did not really interest her, apparently it had been a school for less fortunate kids in the early nineteenth century, and was used up until the sixties when finally they got better facilities.
They’re just about to finish up an uneventful tour, when Kylo Ren suddenly stops mid-step. His foot even hovers a moment. Rey awkwardly bumps into the back of him. “What the hell— ,” she scoffs, only to be silenced by the palm of his gloved hand in her face.
“Phasma,” he says calmly, before his body suddenly goes limp, and is falling to the floor like a pile of wet, unexpected noodles. His assistant is there, however, catching him like this is completely normal.
Needless to say, everyone else is quite startled. They back up, creating some space for the pair while Ren’s head was carefully cradled in Phasma’s lap.
“What the fuck was that— ?” says Hux from the corner, looking vaguely impressed. As if he could at least commend the man for superb acting skills.
Phasma shakes her head, “It happens when he had a particularly strong connection with the entity.”
Finn looks down at the man, who still shows no signs of moving with concern, “Is he… alright?”
She nods. “Yes, he should come out of it in a few minutes.”
“How often does it happen?” Rey asks. She had a feeling that having such a big guy collapse frequently was not a great advantage.
Phasma shakes her head, “Not often.”
And suddenly he jerks awake like he had been held underwater. His body shudders for breath, and his eyes are glazed over. They flicker back and forth, unseeing, but as though seeing everything. It lasts an eerie moment, before he blinks. The brown of his eyes were clear again. Wetting his lips, as if they are dry, he wildly searches the room. His eyes land on Rey.
She feels uncomfortable under his gaze… It looks haunted . She tries to look away, but she can’t quite do it… Not when he raises his hand, and points directly at her. “Something is on you.”
Rey’s blood runs cold. “You’re crazy ,” she accuses, her own mouth dry and the words come out flat.
A shiver runs down her spine as she turns away and storms down the hall.
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