The Approach
"The first official meeting of the Elm City Spirit Hunters is called to order," Soen says, banging a half-full water bottle on the hood of her '08 Civic. The hellhound's pink hair bobbed on the breeze as leaves swirled and danced around her feet, crinkling ominously. Pike crouched on the ground on her right, fussing with the things in his backpack. The chubby skunk had spent the afternoon preparing for their meetup, gathering what he perceived as a survival kit. As Soen spoke, Pike was trying to figure out if he brought batteries as he moved aside a folded rope net.
"Damn, I think I left them in the clubhouse... hey guys, we've only got 3 hours of flashlights. Is that alright?" Pike asked, scratching at his head while he dug around in the last of the pockets. This wasn't the first time Pike had forgotten to grab them from the charging station. It was starting to become an in-joke with the group, but at least it kept them from trying to overnight in the houses.
Mystic came around from the other side of the van, the otter adjusting the straps of his own backpack. "Again Pike? Here, I thought that gas station on Pemberton would have been a lesson to you. Remember getting locked inside of that walk-in fridge? Mighta saw the release latch if you had more than 5 minutes worth of batteries." Mystic approached Pike, bringing his hand out and spreading his fingers open, revealing three rechargeable battery packs, "good thing you have good friends," he said with a jab.
"Settle down, guys. Let's run through the case again, and then we can head inside. " Soen said, the others gathering close. "This is 444 Pemberton; it used to be a private estate for a local dance instructor. Apparently, folks have been wandering in lately, citing strange figures seen in the windows, waving them on or asking for help. Some are coming in and back alright, others... well, Mr. Jenkins wasn't so lucky." Soen places a newspaper clipping on the hood of the car. It showed a male fox dressed in infantile clothing, sucking on his thumb while drooling onto the ruffled bib. It was hard to tell in greyscale, but it almost looked like he was using a diaper and really using it at that!
"That's um...." Pike stammered.
"Yeah, he, uhhh, seems happy?" Mystic asked. They looked at each other before turning on Soen. "Are you sure about this?" Mystic continued his face a mixture of anxious fear and curiosity.
"Relax, most of these guys were just bums off the street. We're trained for this; we got wards, talismans and enough holy water to drown the place." Soen says, beginning to gather her things. "Look, it's getting dark out; I wanna be inside in the daylight so we can get a read on the place before any potential ambush." She spun on her heel and started walking toward the dilapidated mansion.
"Good point, Soen!" Pike said, closing in behind her. Mystic wasted no time falling into line as they began the steady march toward the grandiose house. The rough-hewn stone used for pavers was coated in dancing rivers of dry leaves in the soft autumn breeze.
Closing the distance on the house held its own level of intimidation. It wasn't the creepy facade, although the stereotypical white house with black shutters didn't help. It wasn't the terrifyingly vast attachments, with a large conservatory on one wing and what seemed to be a public access theatre attached on the opposite side. It differed from the seemingly bizarre kitchen on the house's second floor.
No, it was the fact that every glass surface held some sort of shade or shadow. Some seemed to spin and twirl, while others stood with authority. They all had one thing in common: they all seemed to be beckoning them.
"Hey guys, that's not good, right?" spoke Mystic, his eyes scanning from pane to pane.
"Don't worry about it; all the trees around us are casting those shadows. After all, shadows don't just move on their own." Soen said, hiking up her pack and walking with determination.
"I don't know about that, Soen; those trees aren't really in line to...." Pike spoke before being suddenly cut off. A crow swooped from the top of the house, skimming just over their heads. The trio ducked, emitting shrieks as they crouched low, hands over their heads for cover.
"Okay, I really don't like this place. Call it a day?" Pike asked, his eyes the size of saucers.
"No," Mystic and Soen said in unison, gazing at each other.
"What?" Mystic said with a shrug. I may not like the shadows, but you could be right, just the trees." He adjusted his pack before reaching a hand out to Pike. Come on, buddy, let's get this over with. Just think, if you got hold of a ghost, you could do so many experiments!"
"Mystic, you can't capture ghosts they..." he said before devolving into a rant on the transitive properties of energy and matter in posthumous mortals.
Above them, the shades began moving about, each seemingly working in preparation. The trio didn't notice as each one began to smile, a sickening light shining from eyes and mouths that should not exist. One by one, each of them began to vanish into a puff of smoke. After all, they had to prepare for their new guests.