William's group departs, and Morgan is left with Casey to guard the unconscious and stinky Tanner. The room grows eerily silent as the footsteps from William's team grow distant and then cease entirely. Every drop of moisture or grumble of shifting rubble is fraying Morgan's nerves. Why did Morgan ever agree to this? A normal monster hunt was fine, if challenging, but ghosts were terrifying. Even the weaker, more harmless ones were scary. It was something about that lack of life, that lack of awareness from something that used to live and breathe like him that was haunting. And the forms they took that were human, but not quite human, were unsettling to say the least.
Time passed, and a screeching wail echoed down the halls, cracking the inviolable silence like fine china. Morgan is on his feet with his spear drawn. He sees that Casey also has his daggers drawn. But would these weapons do anything against a ghost? Their magic might have some effect, but the most effective way to deal with them was to find the ghost's tether and destroy it. That's what was so terrifying about ghosts. If you engaged in combat with them, you were fighting a losing battle until someone could find that tether. There were other methods like holy magic, but none of the boys knew any.
Then the screech begins getting closer like nails on a chalkboard, or claws on stone, Morgan realizes. A blue glow starts appearing in the entryway to the room, the only entryway. Morgan could've gone with William's group, but he was too afraid, and now it turns out that the danger was staying. What rotten luck. Massive, transparent blue claws grasp onto the door frame before a fiery face with empty eye sockets peers around the corner.
At that moment, a blur passes across Morgan's vision as Casey runs past him and dives out a window. Great, now he was alone. Before Morgan can decide if he wants to risk broken bones and follow Casey out, the ghost is on top of him. The empty sockets now fill with piercingly bright orbs, and the almost-human creature lifts its freakishly long arms to strike at Morgan. Before the claw even starts to come down, Morgan's vision fades and goes black as he passes out.
* * *
William's group enters the amphitheater with mana stones in hand to push back the curtain of darkness. The chamber is deathly still as it should be, but William is still at unease. They reach the altar in the middle of the chamber, and there is no trace of the hooded figures. It appears William was right, the reaper was only a manifestation caused by the ghost. But their troubles were not over; he hadn't told his skittish guildmates everything.
"So the reaper is a manifestation, which is good, but if the ghost keeps manifesting, it'll become real in time and with the town so close ..." William began.
"Fuck, you tell us this now? You mean the fate of the village rests on our ability to find that stupid ghost's tether and destroy it?" Timothy practically shouts.
"Yeah, that's about the sum of it," William says sheepishly.
Curses ring out from the other 3 boys.
"Son of a banshee, that trinket could be anywhere inside this giant complex, even buried under rubble," Lorenzo exclaims.
"Yeah, we'd better get searching before that ghost wakes back up. I think our best bet is in this amphitheater somewhere." William stated.
"Uggh, that's hardly better than the entire complex, this place is huge." Jeffries whines.
William begins searching the stage for any compartments that may contain the ghost's tether. The other boys begrudgingly do the same. After an hour, though, nothing had turned up, unless the ghost was tethered to random rubble, but they all doubted that.
"We don't seem to be getting anywhere; we probably don't have long before the next manifestation of the ghost. Probably time for a change in strategy, does anyone have any ideas?" William analyzes.
"Is getting the fuck out of here an idea?" Timothy asks unhelpfully
"We're here where the ghost ends the manifestation, but what if the tether is where it starts. We first saw the light appear in a 3rd-floor hallway window. Maybe we should search there too." Lorenzo offers.
"That's a good idea, let's make that the plan, Lorenzo, you take Jeffries and search the rooms in that area. Timothy and I will continue searching here." William decides.
"Why can't I go with them?" Timothy asks.
"Because you'll run for the hills the second you're out of William's sight." Jeffries jests.
The boys laugh at Timothy's expense.
* * *
Lorenzo and Jeffries rush along the halls to the 3rd floor. William was right, Ghosts typically manifest every 1 to 2 hours, 3 hours at the longest. It had already been too long since the first manifestation, and there were no guarantees that the next manifestation wouldn't bring the reaper fully into the world. Then they see the tell-tale blue glow in the hallway ahead. They were too late.
"Fuck," The boys say in unison.
"Fight?" Lorenzo asks.
"Fight," Jeffries confirms.
The only thing they could do now is stall the ghost on its normal trajectory to give William and Timothy more time. This was a bad plan. Jeffries didn't like bad plans. They were inefficient. They had no idea how powerful this ghost was, but it was summoning a fragment of death itself; there was no way it was weak.
The ghost's claws grasp the corner of the hallway in front of them as it slowly comes into view. Those long arms and claws, the fiery face, the vacant eye sockets. Jeffries would prefer not to have seen this particular ghost. His nightmares would have a new occupant.
Lorenzo fires a stream of fireballs from his outstretched hand, and the ghost … dodges. Ghosts don't dodge. Jeffries cannot reconcile this new information with what he already knows to be true. Ghosts are unthinking bags of hatred that cling to existence through an obsession with their former life. Ghosts don't do tactics, and they don't dodge, because they can't; simple thoughts elude them. As for instincts, those are for the living. Ghosts charge straight ahead, always. Even then, they're terrifying opponents because they're nearly invulnerable. Their inhuman forms can move in unexpected ways. And their frightening visages can paralyze an average person in fear.
Jeffries watches as a few fireballs clip the ghost, but pass harmlessly through, so definitely a ghost, but it's not acting like one. An intelligent ghost? The mere thought chills Jeffries to the bone.
"Jeffries! Are you just going to stand there? I'm nearly out of mana." Lorenzo shouts.
"Right! Excuse my error." Jeffries yells.
Jeffries jumps into the fray. Jeffries is an assassin. Assassins aren't exactly the right match-up for a ghost. But Jeffries had a secret weapon; his daggers were made from soul-steel. They had a debilitating effect on the living, but more important to the current situation, they could touch the dead.
Jeffries gets in close quarters and thrusts his dagger at what appears to be a core in the ghost's round torso. He'd never heard of this in a ghost before, but he figured slime rules apply: strike the core and it dies. The ghost dodges again, with the reflexes of a fellow assassin. That was vexing.
Jeffries and the ghost engage in a fierce melee. Claws and blades clash while Lorenzo harasses with fireballs at a distance to prevent the ghost from disengaging. The ghost dodges or blocks every strike from Jeffries while launching expert strikes at Jeffries' vital points with its claws. The more Jeffries fights with the ghost, the more he feels like he is fighting with his master, but not in a training spar; this is more like his master when he is serious. How did a ghost like this come to exist?
Lorenzo tries to cast another fireball, but it sputters and dies; he's out of mana. The ghost's eyes gleam brighter for a moment, and then it's no longer in front of Jeffries. Instead, it's touching a finger to Lorenzo's forehead. A finger and not a claw? Lorenzo crumples to the ground. Ghost's touch, already debilitating, but Lorenzo was also suffering from mana exhaustion. He's going to be out for a while.
The ghost returns its attention to Jeffries. But Jeffries realizes the ghost is only toying with him now. Jeffries didn't have the skill to even scratch the ghost; meanwhile, the ghost was holding back its true speed, so the battle didn't end too soon. What was wrong with this ghost? It was so human!
Jeffries kept pushing himself harder and harder. Sweat dripped off his body, and steam rose off his skin. More and more, he saw his master in front of him instead of the ghost. Before Jeffries completely lost his sense of reality, he surrendered. The ghost subdued Lorenzo with a non-lethal move when a lethal one would've been easier, Jeffries deduced. Jeffries' muscles were already over-exerted; better to submit and wake up with only pulled muscles than torn ones. Sure enough, as soon as Jeffries stopped moving, the ghost changed a claw into a finger and touched him on the forehead. Jeffries embraced the welcoming darkness. He would need to sleep for a week at least.