In a high-tech underground war room far from Oakhaven Village, red emergency lights flashed across glowing monitors.
Computers hummed softly, and dozens of analysts sat at their desks, typing rapidly as spectral maps flashed on a large wall display. Streams of numbers and fluctuating energy readings raced across their screens, while warning symbols began appearing one after another.
At the center of the command bridge stood Director Vance, his sharp eyes fixed on a glowing red point on the map.
"Give me a status update, immediately" Director Vance commanded with a loud voice, his voice cold and steady.
"Sir! A massive spike of spectral energy has just been detected in Oakridge Town, twenty kilometers west of Oakhaven!" an analyst reported urgently. "Energy levels have passed Rank 3 and are rapidly climbing! Current reading i s at Rank 4: Dread Class!"
The room immediately grew tense at the word of the analyst.
Several analysts exchanged nervous glances. A few stopped typing for half a second before forcing themselves back to work. The red warning lights continued to flash across their faces, casting long shadows over the walls.
Director Vance frowned deeply. Rank 4 threats were terrifying entities, monsters capable of controlling minds, causing widespread destruction, and slaughtering entire squads of standard Exorcists.
More importantly, a sudden appearance of a Rank 4 threat could mean that something far worse was already happening beneath the surface.
"Was there any warning?" Vance asked, hoping that their advance tracking and detection have any clue regarding the sudden appearance.
"None, sir!" another analyst replied. "There were no previous fluctuations, no abnormal spectral activity, and no reports from local Exorcist patrols!"
Vance's eyes narrowed. "Then why did the system detect it only now?"
The analyst looked at each other and then one of them answered while hesitated. "We... don't know, sir."
For a moment, the only sound in the war room was the low hum of the computers.
Then another alarm suddenly blared into the already alert r oo m.
WARNING: SPECTRAL ENERGY CONTINUING TO RISE.
The red point on the map pulsed brighter.
Director Vance stared at it in silence, his brow frowning deeply. "...That's not good."
"Yesterday at midnight, our long-range sensors picked up a sudden, massive spike inside Blackwood Cemetery," the analyst explained, pulling up a secondary graph. "However, that spike lasted for less than thirty seconds before completely vanishing into thin air. Patrol teams sweeping the perimeter of Blackwood found no emerging ghosts or residual traces, so we assumed it was a system glitch caused by the Blackwood Anomaly."
The analyst clicked his mouse, bringing up a police report on the main screen.
"However, three hours ago in Oakridge Town, a man was possessed by a lingering grudge spirit. Under its control, he brutally attacked his own family. Our vanguard team arrived on the scene and neutralized the possessed killer, but... they were too late to save the mother and her young child."
Director Vance closed his eyes for a short moment, letting out a heavy sigh. "A tragic loss."
"It gets worse, sir," the analyst continued, his voice trembling slightly. "Following local protocol for supernatural casualties, the bodies of the mother and her child were taken to the local crematorium to prevent grudge resurrection. But during the burning process, the mother's intense grief, anger, and love for her slain child fused with the residual dark energy from the possessed killer. Her soul didn't pass on. It turned into a grief-driven Dread Class phanto m !"
"I understand that much." Director Vance said, he knew better than most people in here on h how a ghost can emerge. most are byproduct of human own action.
On the main wall screen, a bright red arrow appeared, moving at incredible speed across the regional map.
"Where is it heading?" Vance demanded sharply.
"That's the problem, Director!" the analyst shouted, pointing at the screen. "Based on what is seen here, It isn't heading to Oakridge so it's goal isnt to attack Oakridge Town, atleast for now, sir! The phantom is moving in a straight line directly toward Blackwood Cemetery!" Director Vance’s eyes narrowed deeply and frowned when he heard that. He can obviously know the danger if a dread rank ghost reached to Blackwood Cemetery.
Blackwood Cemetery sat atop an ancient burial ground saturated with centuries of concentrated malicious energy. If a Rank 4 Dread Class ghost reached that cemetery, it would absorb the vast ambient ghost energy stored in the soil, instantly evolving into a world-ending Calamity Class monster.
"We cannot let that thing reach Blackwood Cemetery!" Vance ordered, slamming his fist onto the console. "Dispatch all nearby Vanguard squads immediately! Intercept it before it crosses the perimeter!"
"Sir, we tried!" the analyst reported in a panic. "The phantom's movement speed is absurdly high! It's drifting through the sky like a storm cloud, ignoring physical terrain! At this rate, it will reach the gates of Blackwood Cemetery before any of our Vanguard teams can set up a seal barrier!"
Director Vance stared at the red line on the map as it rapidly approached the quiet, isolated graveyard.
"What about Agent Reed and Agent Martha in Oakhaven?" a voice asked from behind.
"They are intelligence operatives, not heavy assault specialists," Vance replied grimly, his face dark. "If a Rank 4 Dread Class entity invades Blackwood Cemetery... we can only pray the mysterious 'anomaly' inside the grounds doesn't react."
Meanwhile, at Blackwood Cemetery...
B stepped through the open iron gates, carrying her heavy bundle of five library books and her large, fresh apple pie wrapped in plastic. The stick of her yellow lemon lollipop was still tucked comfortably in the side of her mouth.
She stopped on the dirt path, looking up at the sky.
The bright orange sunset from earlier was rapidly disappearing, swallowed by heavy, dark clouds rolling in from the west. The air felt thick, cool, and damp, carrying the sharp scent of oncoming rain.
"Looks like it's going to pour," B murmured around her lollipop, her child-like voice soft in the quiet evening air.
She picked up her pace, her high leather boots making fast, steady sounds against the dirt as she walked toward her small wooden cabin sitting in the middle of the cemetery.
She stepped onto the wooden porch, pushed open the heavy metal door, and slipped inside, shutting out the dark evening.
"Home sweet home," B sighed happily.
She walked over to the wooden table by the window and carefully set down her treasures. She placed the five library books in a neat stack on one side and set the heavy, fresh apple pie right beside them.
She reached up with two fingers, pulled the white paper stick of her yellow lollipop out of her mouth, and tossed it willy-nilly over her shoulder. The paper stick landed harmlessly in the corner of the room, near her broom.
B took a step back, admiring her loot. She had books to read, fresh pie to eat, and a plush couch to sleep on. It was a perfect setup for a rainy evening. The soft sound of raindrops tapping against the window made the little cabin feel even warmer and safer.
Then, she looked down at her clothes.
The bottom half of her simple white dress was covered in faint brown dirt stains from when she had kneeled on the street to help the old grandmother pick up her dropped apples, along with a few dark spots from wiping the fruit clean.
"Ah," B pouted slightly, plucking at her stained hem. "Got it dirty."
She couldn't stand lying on her soft, clean couch while wearing dirty clothes. It went against her core values of absolute cozy comfort.
With a tiny, tired sigh, B shuffled toward the small wooden wardrobe in the corner of the cabin. She opened it and stared blankly at the neatly folded clothes inside.
Changing clothes meant effort.
Effort was troublesome.
But dirty clothes were also troublesome.
B stood there silently for several seconds, caught between two terrible choices.
"Time for another shower," B decided with a small nod.
She walked over to the table, picked out a simple dark red dress and a fresh pair of black shorts from her bundle of new clothes, and carried them into the small bathroom.
She pushed the plastic door shut, turned the metal handles above the basin, and let the warm water fill the tub.
Outside the cabin, the sky turned pitch black.
The wind completely died down, leaving the graveyard in absolute, eerie silence. High above the ironwood trees, a thick, milky white fog began to roll over the stone graves, rising up from the ground like cold steam.
Inside the quiet bathroom, B stripped off her dirty white dress, stepped into the warm water, and let out a long, happy sigh, completely oblivious to the cold, unnatural fog gathering outside her window.
Author's Note
EliteToeCollector
Thank you for reading!