Angeline sighed. ‘Endora is one of my favourite people in the world, but she’s also someone who hasn’t left the Ghost Club in years because she’s scared of what’s outside.’
‘Agoraphobia tends to distort her perception of danger,’ Edgar added.
‘At the moment she sounds like the smartest person I know,’ Dylan muttered.
‘More jokes.’ Gloom slapped him on the back, causing him to almost trip headfirst into the door. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
‘Me? With you?’
‘Of course,’ Angeline said as if it was the most obvious choice in the world.
Dylan sidled over to her and tried to convince her otherwise. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if I went with you?’
‘You’ll learn much more from Gloom. He’s one of the most experienced members we have. He knows everything you’ll need to know about catching. It’s not often you’ll get the privilege.’
‘But . . .’ Dylan grasped at whatever straw he could get his hands on. ‘Since I’m only new, shouldn’t it be you who gets the privilege to be with Gloom?’
‘That’s sweet,’ Angeline smiled, ‘but it’s better if it’s you.’
‘Would you like to investigate the castle grounds or peruse inside?’ Edgar asked.
Dylan opened his mouth but was cut off by Gloom. ‘Grounds,’ he said. ‘I always feel better working in the outdoors.’
Dylan felt a tightness creep around his neck.
‘We need to uncover more clues as to who our ghost might be,’ Edgar instructed.
Angeline nodded. ‘The more we know about him, the more we can try to guess what his problem is and help him resettle back into the afterlife.’
‘And end his increasingly energetic efforts to spook us,’ Gloom muttered darkly.
‘You really think this splitting up thing is a good idea?’ Dylan tried one last time.
Angeline laid her hand on his coat sleeve. ‘You’ll be just fine, I know it.’
Dylan wasn’t sure why, but for the first time since he’d become a ghost catcher, he almost believed it could be true.
‘If you need our assistance,’ Edgar said, ‘use the speed dial on the Tracker to call us.’
Dylan reached into his pocket and clutched the device tightly with both hands.
‘You’ll also be able to find out where we are by using the locate function.’ Angeline showed him the icon on the screen. ‘Enter the person you’d like to find. A signal will seek out their Tracker and a map with their name will appear immediately. Okay?’
Dylan tried it out and within seconds Angeline’s name appeared on a map where they were standing.
‘Easy.’ Angeline checked the time on her screen. ‘Unless we meet beforehand, let’s rendezvous in the castle foyer in an hour.’
Dylan watched his new friends walk away and with them went the tiny skerrick of confidence he seemed to have found in the last few moments. As they disappeared around a corner, he felt as if he was falling, tumbling helplessly into a black pit of fear, hopelessness and doom, a fall that would bring him face to face with . . .
‘Master Dylan?’
He jumped back and grabbed at his chest to try and stop his heart from breaking through the reinforced lining of his ghost coat.
Gloom’s lips filled with a mischievous smile. ‘I can tell by the look on your face that you’re already thinking of ways to catch this ghost, aren’t you?’
Dylan shook his head.
‘It’s no good trying to be bashful. I can spot talent when I see it.’ Gloom hoisted his axe over his shoulder. ‘Now let’s go get the blighter before he gets us.’
The only reason Dylan was able to move was his fear of being left alone in a damp, dark dungeon that had just been visited by a crazed headless ghost and his horse.
Gloom stomped up the narrow stairs that spiralled away from the lower levels of the castle. The endless clomp, clomp of his footsteps reverberated off the walls, thumping into Dylan’s head. Suddenly, the hideous beast of Gloom’s poem filled his thoughts, and he became the delicious-tasting young boy the beast would eat.
‘What happened to your leg?’ Dylan asked, more to block out the menacing image.
Gloom hesitated before answering. ‘Got into a bit of a fight.’ He paused. ‘With a demon.’
Dylan tripped up the next step and bumped his already sore head into the stone wall. His breathing quickened. ‘A demon?’
Gloom rounded suddenly on Dylan, his face lit eerily by the glow of his torch. ‘Savage, he was. Razor-sharp teeth and claws that could slice your throat into ribbons with one swipe.’
Dylan tugged at the collar of his coat and took a deep breath. ‘No one said anything about –’ he gulped – ‘demons.’
‘Probably because you don’t see them very often. But when you do . . .’ Gloom’s voice wheezed and he moved so close that Dylan could count his eyelashes. ‘. . . they can be nasty.’
Dylan squeezed his Tracker even tighter, held it up and scanned the area around him. There was no reading of spectral energies.
Or demons.
Gloom stopped before a wooden door as the stairwell spiralled above them. ‘According to the castle map, this should lead outside.’
Dylan’s heart leapt. An exit to the outside world. To more air. A chance to escape from this demon-attracting madman. In a lightning-fast movement, Gloom snatched his axe from his belt and swung it down. The handle clanged to the floor. He held the axe to Dylan’s face and smiled. ‘I haven’t missed yet.’
Dylan was unable to do much more than clutch his arms to his chest and nod.
And say goodbye to his brief life.
Gloom held up his axe. ‘This baby comes in handy more times than you’d think.’ He slipped it back in his belt and opened the door. The chilly night air stung their faces and a shadowy mist swirled around their bodies with each step.
‘Now it’s time for these.’ Gloom nestled his Ghost Goggles on his face and Dylan did the same. ‘It’ll be tough spotting any ghosts in this fog without them.’
His feet crunched along the gravel path while the castle leant over them like a sleeping giant.
‘Your best friend during your catchings is your Tracker. Helps you avoid any nasty surprises,’ Gloom said.
‘Like being run over by a headless ghost and his horse?’
‘Yes, exactly,’ Gloom answered earnestly. ‘It is quite the honour you’ve been given, being part of the most successful paranormal organisation in the world. We’ve even won awards for it: outstanding catchers, world-class techniques, best cupcake makers. What equipment we don’t have isn’t worth having. You’ll see, once you start using our gear you’ll wonder how you had any fun without it.’
Dylan was barely listening. His goggled eyes and torch were focused on the bushes on one side of them before flicking to the shadows and nooks of the castle on the other.
Gloom frowned. ‘You’re not having fun yet, are you?’
‘Not really.’
‘Are you afraid?’
‘No.’
‘It’s okay if you are. Being afraid makes us know we’re alive,’ Gloom pounded his chest, ‘and that we have blood pumping through our veins.’
‘Do you get scared?’
‘Sure I do.’ Gloom scanned the grounds. ‘Everyone does, but if you know what you’re doing the fear disappears and the adrenalin kicks in.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. When I’ve been scared I’ve found the simple trick of standing tall and taking deep breaths really helps. Go on, try it.’
Dylan stopped and took a shallow breath.
‘Deeper.’
He straightened a little more and tried again.
‘And another.’
Dylan did as he was t
old and found to his surprise he felt better.
‘Thanks, Gloom.’
‘You’re welcome.’
They walked further. Gloom looked through his goggles into the bushes, down into the moat and up the walls of the castle. There was no sign of paranormal activity anywhere.
‘Your first big catching can be hard. When I started, thinking about everything I needed to know was so overwhelming that I wanted to give up.’
‘That’s it exactly! How am I going to learn everything?’
Another wave of mist washed over them, and for a moment they were swallowed whole.
‘Everyone feels that way at first, but the more you learn, the braver you feel and the more you know how to take care of ghost business.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so.’ Gloom smiled. ‘If you work hard enough, study previous catchings and follow everything Angeline and Edgar do, you’ll get the hang of it.’
They walked in silence for a few moments, both keeping their eyes peeled for any unusual movements, sounds or spectral glows.
‘I also find poetry very soothing.’
Dylan’s head snapped around. Gloom had taken his notebook from his pocket. ‘I don’t think –’
Before he could object any further, Gloom was holding his poem under torchlight and began to read.
A Midnight Stroll
If at night
You can’t resist
Wandering alone
In a darkened mist
The tingle of dew
The air so fresh
Don’t go outside
I must protest!
For in the night
Strange things do lurk
And peculiar happenings
You’ll find at work
A hooting here
Even a scream
Oh no, your walk
Will be no dream.
For one night
Whilst walking thus
The wind did start
To run amok,
Footsteps behind
I did detect
Coming closer
Its breath on my neck.
On this night
I did run
But those quickening steps
I could not shun,
Panic-gripped and
Short of breath
I feared that I would
Meet my death.
Oh, black night!
I could not see
Where my feet
Were taking me
And over a cliff
I did fall
And now I’m dead
To one and all.
A triumphant smile glued itself to Gloom’s lips. ‘That’s one of my fav–’ He looked up to see Dylan hunched over, struggling with short, shallow breaths. ‘Is there something wrong, Master Dylan? What is it, dear boy? Is it the cold air? Did you see something?’ He turned this way and that. ‘Where did it go?’
Dylan felt as if a python had wrapped itself around his chest. His lungs constricted, his eyes bulged. He reached for the paper bag in his pocket, but his legs turned to jelly beneath him and were about to give up altogether when his Tracker began to flash and a picture of Angeline lit up before him.
He pressed the screen and a video stream of her appeared.
‘Dylan, we’re getting a reading. How soon can you and Gloom get here?’
‘Now,’ he wheezed.
‘Meet us in the library as soon as you can.’
Gloom slipped his notepad into his pocket. ‘Sounds like we’re back in business. You run.’ He held his bad leg. ‘I’ll be there when I can.’
Dylan needed no other invitation. He raced to the front of the castle and up the stairs, Gloom hobbling a little way behind. He followed the directions on the 3-D map and in minutes had arrived at the open doorway of the library.
He was about to call Angeline’s name but stopped and stood gaping, his words snatched away by the sight before him.
‘There’s nothing to worry about.’ Angeline tried to remove the horror that had stricken Dylan’s face.
‘This tends to happen from time to time,’ Edgar said. ‘And is perfectly normal in these situations.’
Dylan stared at his two friends, who looked pretty much the same as when he’d seen them last, except now they were suspended in midair. ‘What’s happening?’
‘Levitation.’ Edgar floated with a book in his hand. ‘Extreme manifestations of ghosts can sometimes not only exhibit force but can use their energies to hold heavy items or even suspend people in the air.’
‘How did it happen?’
‘Libraries are a bit of a weak point with us and we got distracted by all these books.’ Angeline shrugged. ‘He snuck up on us while we weren’t paying attention.’
‘How long does it last?’
‘We were levitated one time for four hours,’ Edgar sighed.
‘That was only once,’ Angeline said. ‘Usually it stops when . . . Aaah!’ They fell to the floor with a great thud. ‘. . . the ghost gets bored,’ she finished.
‘Are you okay?’ Dylan ran to her side.
Angeline dragged herself to her elbows. ‘Not a scratch. I told you these coats were great.’
Gloom stumbled into the room.
‘Everyone okay?’
‘Yeah,’ Angeline said. ‘Just a bit of levitation.’
‘Not paying enough attention.’ Gloom pointed out with a cheeky smile.
‘No, we – Dylan, watch out!’
A solid oak bookshelf reaching to the ceiling began to shift and sway, teetering backwards and forwards until it started to plunge – straight towards Dylan.
The shelf toppled forward, showering books to the floor. Dylan dived behind a lounge and only just managed to get out of the way before it crashed to the ground.
‘Good dive,’ Gloom admired.
‘Lately, I’ve had lots of practice.’ Dylan shrugged.
‘There he is!’ Still sparkling with silvery Ghost Powder, Angeline spotted the ghost as he flew from the library, but not before he pushed over another bookshelf and sent a flood of books to the floor.
Edgar checked his Tracker. ‘His spectral intensity has increased.’
‘Increased?’ Dylan asked.
‘He must be getting angry,’ Angeline explained.
‘He wasn’t angry before?’
Gloom waved a dismissive hand. ‘He was a kitten.’
‘So the present concentration of his spectral energies means he can knock me over?’ Dylan asked.
‘He might even knock you out.’ Gloom laughed, leaving Dylan confused about what he’d found so funny.
The rhythmic smashing of glass from the corridor splintered the air.
‘Time to go,’ Angeline said.
‘We all have to be extra careful,’ warned Edgar. ‘Will you be okay, Gloom?’
‘I’ll catch up as soon as I can.’
The three younger ghost catchers pulled on their goggles and scrambled over the bookshelf and into the corridor. They were immediately struck by a burst of cold air that slammed them into the wall. Edgar led the others against the bullying wind, inching his way forward, step by step. The smashing of more glass rang out from the floor above.
‘To the stairs,’ Edgar called out over the bustling wind.
They each grabbed hold of the banister and used it to hoist themselves up the stairwell.
When they reached the landing, the wind stopped abruptly. Chandeliers swayed and creaked, and empty windowpanes sat above mounds of smashed glass.
The ghost catchers stared at the trail of wreckage: vases thrown fr
om pedestals, curtains ripped from their railings, portraits of the Griswold family askew on the walls, each with a deep slash across its face.
‘He’s feisty,’ Angeline said.
‘Feisty?’ Dylan puffed. ‘He’s a maniac.’
‘Oh, he’s not that bad.’ Angeline led the charge. ‘Come on.’ Her boots crunched over broken debris and the cold air swirled around her neck and face. She surveyed the corridor with her goggles, searching desperately for a sign.
Then she saw him – a red wisp speeding past her and through a grand set of doors. She dashed forward and was about to wrench the door open when Dylan called from behind.
‘Wait! It might be another trap.’
‘Dylan’s right.’ Edgar looked at his Tracker and saw a strong red glow coming from inside. ‘He’s quiet, but he’s in there and he’s strong.’
Angeline slowly turned the handle, took out her retractable telescopic mirror and stuck it through the gap.
‘It’s like a classroom from a long time ago,’ she whispered. ‘There are some desks, a blackboard and a shelf with only a few books.’
‘What’s he doing?’ Dylan asked.
‘He’s sitting on a stool, staring at the keys of a piano.’ She frowned. ‘He looks younger than I thought.’
‘What should we do?’ Dylan asked.
‘I’ll go in and try to talk to him.’
‘Talk to him? But what if he gets angry again and throws something else at you?’
‘I have my ghost-catching equipment,’ she patted her satchel, ‘and you’ll be here to watch out for me.’
Dylan’s stomach sank. ‘Me? But –’
Angeline put her finger to her lips and pushed the door open without a sound. She took a few small steps towards the boy. He didn’t move. She moved a little closer, and still he stared down at the piano keys, his long hair falling over his face, his oversized coat hunched up over his body. Up close, his skin had a faint, white glow.
Dylan leant in from the door as far as he dared. His breath grew shorter.
‘Hi, my name’s Angeline. What’s yours?’
The figure at the piano didn’t answer.
Angeline inched even closer; she was now only metres away. ‘My friends and I don’t want to hurt you. We only want to talk.’ Her voice echoed around the cavernous, barely furnished room. ‘We’re worried you’re unhappy, that maybe someone has done something to upset you. We’re here to see if we can help.’
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