Chapter 39: "The Bunny, the Goat, and the World's Worst Petting Zoo"
In which the Mercers discover that dimensional gateways attract terrible neighbors, a rabbit carries an axe, and Garrick continues to believe bazookas solve most problems.
The Mercer Battle Wagon tore through Havenbrook like subtlety had personally offended it.
Green armor.
Reinforced plating.
Roof-mounted weapon systems.
Enough glowing equipment to make passing drivers question whether the military had started taking design advice from comic books.
Inside, Garrick Mercer leaned over the steering wheel with the focused expression of a man who had been waiting his entire life for someone to say:
CITYWIDE GHOST EMERGENCY.
Selene Mercer was considerably less enthusiastic.
Which was why she was currently staring at six separate monitors while her husband tried not to drive over a mailbox.
"Left."
"I see it."
"That's a mailbox."
"I also see that."
The Battle Wagon swerved.
The mailbox survived.
Barely.
Selene returned her attention to the sensor display.
The situation was getting worse.
Green markers blinked across the city map.
Dozens.
Then disappeared.
New ones appeared.
Then vanished too.
Not faded.
Not moved outside the sensor radius.
Gone.
Selene's expression tightened.
"That's wrong."
Garrick glanced over.
"What kind of wrong?"
"The interesting kind or the horrible kind?"
"The horrible kind."
"Oh."
His excitement diminished by approximately twelve percent.
Selene expanded the map.
A cluster of weak spectral signatures had appeared near the eastern residential district.
Eight seconds later?
Gone.
Another cluster near downtown.
Gone.
A stronger reading crossed into city limits from the north.
It lasted thirty-one seconds.
Then disappeared.
Garrick's smile vanished completely.
"Something's eating them."
"That's my conclusion."
And that was a very different problem.
Ghosts were not all the same.
That was one of the first lessons the Paranormal Department had drilled into Garrick and Selene when they'd officially joined.
Before the Department.
Before the serum.
Before the armor.
Before the government had looked at two extremely enthusiastic paranormal researchers and said:
Would you like funding, combat training, and legally questionable biotechnology?
The Mercers had believed "ghost" was a fairly simple category.
Dead person.
Spectral body.
Unfinished business.
Occasional screaming.
They had been very wrong.
The first type really did begin that simply.
A human died.
For whatever reason—regret, grief, fear, attachment—the soul failed to move on.
It lingered.
And in the beginning?
Most were harmless.
Confused.
Sad.
Sometimes not even fully aware they were dead.
Those were the spirits shamans had dealt with for thousands of years.
Not ghost hunters.
Ghost helpers.
Guides.
People born with or trained in supernatural abilities who could communicate with lost souls, calm them, untangle whatever held them to the world, and send them where they were supposed to go.
The Paranormal Department still worked with shamans.
The Mercers?
They preferred machines.
Mostly because Garrick had once tried meditating with a shaman for two hours and fallen asleep so hard he'd started snoring.
But the principle was the same.
A harmless wandering soul wasn't something to shoot.
It was someone who needed help.
The problem began when they stayed.
Months.
Years.
Decades.
Regret didn't remain clean.
Neither did anger.
Neither did grief.
The longer a soul remained on Earth, the more Yin energy accumulated around it.
Ectoplasmic energy.
Same thing.
Different terminology.
Modern researchers liked ectoplasmic.
Shamans preferred Yin.
Garrick preferred ghost juice.
The Department had officially banned him from using that term in reports.
The energy changed them.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
A spirit consumed enough ambient Yin energy?
Its form grew stronger.
Its emotions became exaggerated.
Its memories blurred.
Its regret stopped being something it felt and started becoming something it was.
Some learned they could speed the process up.
By devouring other ghosts.
Or souls.
Those were the dangerous ones.
A harmless dead man who regretted never saying goodbye to his daughter might become, fifty years later, a creature that barely remembered the daughter at all.
Only the pain.
Only the anger.
Only the hunger.
Eventually?
The person disappeared beneath the ghost.
And then there was the second type.
Those had never been ordinary.
Supernatural humans.
Psychics.
Sorcerers.
Cultivators.
Shamans who had gone very, very wrong.
And creatures that were never human in the first place.
Beings born with supernatural power could absorb ghosts, souls, and Yin energy while still alive.
Some did it deliberately.
Some became addicted to it.
Some eventually accumulated so much spiritual power that flesh became unnecessary.
They abandoned their physical bodies entirely.
What remained was a complete ghost.
Not a dead person trapped by regret.
A supernatural being that had deliberately crossed over.
Those were stronger.
Usually much stronger.
And when the original being wasn't human?
Things got worse.
A supernatural creature's ghost retained qualities ordinary human spirits simply didn't possess.
Innate powers.
Stranger instincts.
Sometimes abilities that made conventional physics file a resignation letter.
Selene stared at the disappearing signals.
Whatever was hunting Havenbrook's new arrivals...
it was almost certainly not a newly dead accountant with unresolved tax anxiety.
"We can't locate it," she said.
Garrick glanced toward the larger scanner.
"Increase sensitivity."
"I already did."
"Directional spectral radar?"
"Nothing."
"Dimensional echo?"
"Nothing."
"Ghost sonar?"
Selene looked at him.
"Garrick."
"Right."
She leaned closer to the display.
Their technology was excellent.
It was also unfinished.
That distinction had kept them alive.
Too many researchers built one successful ghost detector and immediately concluded they'd conquered the supernatural.
Those researchers tended to stop answering emails.
Higher-level entities could suppress themselves.
Distort sensor readings.
Move through barriers.
Possess systems.
Or simply operate at energy ranges their equipment couldn't properly resolve.
That was why the Paranormal Department had classifications.
And why the Mercers had never gone hunting S-Rank entities.
Not because nobody knew where some of them were.
They did.
That was the problem.
They knew exactly where several were.
Everyone simply agreed that letting them continue minding their own business was healthier for civilization.
Their technology wasn't all-powerful.
Not yet.
Selene looked at the city map.
Whatever was consuming the weaker ghosts was beyond their current detection threshold.
Which was concerning.
Very concerning.
But it also wasn't the most immediate problem.
Because two signatures were not disappearing.
Two large red-orange markers pulsed on the screen.
Selene touched the first.
ENTITY CLASSIFICATION: C
Then the second.
ENTITY CLASSIFICATION: C
Garrick leaned toward the display.
"Two C-Ranks?"
"Yes."
His grin returned.
"Oh, now that's more manageable."
Selene stared at him.
"Your standards are broken."
"They've always been broken."
Fair.
A warning appeared.
The city camera network had obtained visual confirmation.
Selene opened the first feed.
A grainy traffic camera showed something moving between parked cars.
Tall.
Human-shaped.
Dragging an axe.
The figure stepped beneath a streetlamp.
Garrick's face immediately lost its smile.
"Oh."
The thing wore a rabbit costume.
Or what had once been one.
The fabric was rotten and stained dark with age.
One ear hung sideways.
The other had been torn almost completely off.
Its face was hidden behind an old rabbit mask cracked straight down the middle.
Darkness leaked from the eye holes.
Not shadow.
Not exactly.
Something thicker.
Like smoke that had forgotten how to rise.
The axe dragged behind it.
SKRRRRRRRRRCH.
Metal scraped asphalt.
A man on the camera ran across the road.
The rabbit's head snapped toward him.
Too fast.
Then the feed distorted.
Static.
A scream.
Selene immediately pulled up another camera.
The man was alive.
Bleeding from one arm and crawling behind a parked car.
The rabbit ghost was walking toward him.
Slowly.
Like it enjoyed the anticipation.
"Bunnyman," Selene said.
Garrick's hands tightened around the wheel.
He knew the file.
Everyone in the Department did.
Originally human.
Virginia.
Serial killer.
The exact history was messy—too many contradictory reports, local stories, disappearances, and bodies.
But death hadn't improved him.
The man had become a ghost.
Then he'd started eating.
Other wandering souls first.
Then weaker ghosts.
Every one made him stronger.
Every one made whatever remained of the original human smaller.
By Department estimates, Bunnyman had killed enough people and consumed enough spirits to reach C Rank.
Not world-ending.
Not city-destroying.
But more than enough to slaughter normal humans.
And he enjoyed it.
The camera zoomed.
Bunnyman raised the axe.
"Not tonight," Selene said.
Garrick slammed the accelerator.
The Battle Wagon roared.
Then Selene's second monitor flashed.
"Wait."
Another camera.
Near Havenbrook Central Park.
Trees bent unnaturally.
Roots crawled across pavement like snakes.
Streetlights had disappeared beneath leaves.
And standing between the trees was something seven feet tall.
Half man.
Half goat.
Long curved horns.
Dark fur over its lower body.
Human-like torso stretched too lean.
Its eyes glowed a dull yellow.
A bow rested in one clawed hand.
Not manufactured wood.
Living wood.
Twisted branches had grown together to form it.
The creature turned toward the camera.
And smiled.
Not wildly.
Not stupidly.
It knew what the camera was.
Then a vine rose from the ground.
Wrapped around the pole.
The camera feed went black.
Selene exhaled.
"Goatman."
Unlike Bunnyman, Goatman had never been human.
Or at least not completely.
Its Department records classified the original creature as a supernatural entity of uncertain origin.
Some reports called it a forest spirit.
Others a cursed hybrid.
Others something much older wearing a shape humans could understand.
Eventually, it had abandoned physical existence and become fully spectral.
That alone made its baseline considerably stronger than most human ghosts.
It had limited control over vegetation.
Exceptional night vision.
Enhanced physical strength.
And a bow capable of firing condensed Yin energy.
Most importantly—
it could think.
Not brilliantly.
But enough.
Garrick frowned.
"Which first?"
Selene looked at both signals.
Bunnyman was near civilians.
Three injured already.
Goatman had appeared in the park.
Several late-night joggers were still inside.
"Split the difference."
Garrick looked excited again.
"You mean—"
"Battle Wagon takes Bunnyman."
"YES."
"We intercept Goatman after containment."
"Also yes."
Selene tapped the roof-weapon interface.
"Machine gun online."
The turret rotated.
WHIRRRRRR.
Garrick smiled.
"Daisy's angry older brother."
"Do not name the machine gun."
"Too late."
Selene closed her eyes.
"What did you call it?"
"Petunia."
"...Drive."
Bunnyman found his fourth victim near a convenience store.
Fortunately for the victim?
The Mercer Battle Wagon found Bunnyman first.
The young man was lying behind a sedan, one leg bleeding badly where the axe had clipped him.
Bunnyman stood over him.
The rabbit mask tilted.
Slowly.
The axe rose.
Then headlights flooded the street.
Bunnyman turned.
The Battle Wagon came around the corner at approximately the speed of poor judgment.
Garrick leaned on the horn.
HOOOOOOOOONK!
The ghost stared.
Selene hit the firing control.
The roof-mounted ghost machine gun opened fire.
THRUM-THRUM-THRUM-THRUM!
Compressed ectoplasmic rounds ripped through the street.
Bunnyman jerked sideways.
Too late.
The first burst hit its shoulder.
The second tore through its torso.
Green-black vapor sprayed backward.
The ghost flew through a bus shelter.
Glass exploded everywhere.
The injured civilian stared.
Garrick lowered his window.
"HI!"
The man stared at him.
"Stay down!"
The window went back up.
Selene looked at Garrick.
"Excellent medical support."
"I'm reassuring."
"You shouted at him."
"Reassuringly."
The broken bus shelter exploded outward.
Bunnyman came through it.
Fast.
Much faster than something carrying an axe that large had any right to move.
The machine gun fired again.
Bunnyman phased.
The rounds passed through him.
Then his body solidified on top of the Battle Wagon.
BOOM!
The entire vehicle shook.
Selene looked upward.
"Roof."
"I noticed."
The axe came down.
KRAAAAAANG!
The roof plating dented.
Garrick winced.
"Hey!"
Another hit.
KRAAANG!
"That was expensive!"
Bunnyman screamed.
It wasn't human.
Not anymore.
The sound came from somewhere behind the mask—
high and low at the same time.
Like a man laughing while an animal died.
Garrick's expression changed.
"Okay."
He unbuckled.
"Now I'm annoyed."
The side door opened.
Garrick launched himself out.
His white-and-green armor activated.
Boosters ignited along his back.
FWOOSH!
He shot upward.
Straight at Bunnyman.
"GET OFF MY CAR!"
His armored fist connected with the rabbit mask.
BOOM!
Bunnyman left the roof.
Crossed the street.
Went through a billboard.
And vanished inside a laundromat.
Selene stepped out more gracefully.
Her own armor sealed completely around her.
White plates.
Green energy channels.
Helmet.
Possession barrier.
Mind-defense field.
Internal Yin circulation.
Boosters activated.
She rose into the air.
The injured civilian looked up at her.
"Ma'am?"
"Emergency services are two minutes away."
"Is that thing dead?"
A crash came from the laundromat.
Selene looked toward it.
"No."
The civilian started crawling faster.
Smart man.
Inside the laundromat, washing machines began shaking.
One lifted off the floor.
Then another.
Then twelve.
Garrick hovered beside Selene.
"Telekinesis?"
"Residual poltergeist control."
"That's cheating."
"Garrick."
"Right."
The laundromat windows exploded.
Washing machines flew into the street.
The Mercers separated.
One machine missed Garrick by inches.
Another hit the Battle Wagon.
CRUNCH.
Garrick gasped.
"He hit Petunia!"
"The machine gun?"
"The Battle Wagon!"
"You named both?"
"Focus!"
Bunnyman emerged through the smoke.
Mask split wider now.
Inside there was no face.
Just green-black fire.
He charged.
Axe swinging.
Selene drew her Ghost Rifle.
Three shots.
PEW! PEW! PEW!
First hit the axe.
Second hit the chest.
Third hit the knee.
Bunnyman stumbled.
Garrick dropped from above.
Ghost staff extended from his gauntlet.
KACHUNK.
He swung.
The staff hit Bunnyman across the back.
The street cratered beneath the ghost.
Bunnyman screamed and twisted impossibly fast.
The axe caught Garrick across the torso.
His barrier flashed bright green.
SHHHHNNNG!
Garrick flew backward.
Hit a parked delivery van.
The van rocked.
His armor display flashed:
BARRIER INTEGRITY: 74%
Garrick stared.
"Okay."
He stood.
"That would've cut normal me in half."
Selene fired again.
"You're welcome for the armor."
"Love you too!"
Bunnyman lunged for her.
Selene waited.
Waited.
Waited.
Then fired the Ghost Net.
FWUMP!
Glowing ectoplasmic mesh wrapped around the rabbit ghost.
Bunnyman crashed onto the road.
The net tightened.
He screamed.
The axe fell from his hand.
Garrick flew forward.
"Got him!"
Bunnyman's body flickered.
Selene's eyes widened.
"No—"
The ghost became intangible.
Partially.
The net slipped through one shoulder.
Its arm emerged.
Reached for the axe.
Selene threw a Ghost Bomb.
PING.
The small green sphere landed directly beneath Bunnyman.
His head tilted.
BOOM!
A sphere of concentrated ectoplasmic disruption swallowed the street.
Not fire.
Not fragmentation.
Pure anti-ghost force.
Bunnyman slammed back into solidity.
The net snapped tight again.
Garrick landed with both boots on the trapped ghost's chest.
"Stay."
Bunnyman shrieked.
"I SAID STAY!"
Selene raised the Ghost Bazooka.
Garrick saw it.
"Oh."
He moved.
Quickly.
The bazooka charged.
Green-white light gathered in the barrel.
Bunnyman thrashed.
The rabbit mask turned toward Selene.
For one instant—
something human appeared behind the cracked eye socket.
Hatred.
Not confusion.
Not regret.
Hatred that had been fed for decades until nothing else mattered.
Selene's expression hardened.
Whatever man this had once been was buried beneath too many murders.
Too many devoured souls.
Too much Yin.
"Containment conversion authorized."
She fired.
WHOOOOOM!
The blast consumed Bunnyman.
The street turned green-white.
The ghost screamed.
Then the scream broke apart.
Body first.
Mask.
Hands.
Axe.
Everything dissolved into streams of corrupted ectoplasmic energy.
The Ghost Net contracted around it.
Containment coils built into Garrick's armor pulled the released energy inward.
Not the souls Bunnyman had once consumed.
Those were long gone or already fragmented beyond recovery.
What remained was the monstrous structure he'd made of himself.
Yin.
Ectoplasm.
Corrupted spiritual mass.
The containment cartridge filled.
HOSTILE ENTITY CONVERSION: 63%
Garrick lifted it.
"That'll power the south lab for a month."
Selene looked at the destruction.
Broken bus stop.
Damaged laundromat.
Three wrecked cars.
One injured man now being reached by paramedics.
Another woman sitting on the sidewalk with a bleeding forehead.
A teenager holding his shoulder while emergency workers checked him.
No bodies.
No deaths.
Good.
"Take the win," Selene said.
Garrick looked at the Battle Wagon.
One washing machine was embedded in the hood.
He looked wounded.
"At what cost?"
Selene grabbed his arm.
"We have another C-Rank."
Garrick stared at the washing machine.
"I'll remember you."
"Garrick."
"Coming."
Havenbrook Central Park had become a forest.
Technically?
It had always been a park.
Trees.
Grass.
Flower beds.
Benches.
A duck pond.
Now?
Roots had torn through paved paths.
Vines covered streetlights.
Tree branches had twisted together into walls.
The playground looked like nature had decided children had enjoyed it long enough.
The Battle Wagon couldn't get farther than the entrance.
Selene stared through the windshield.
"No vehicle."
Garrick looked at the giant wall of roots.
"Petunia could make it."
"No."
"With momentum—"
"No."
They stepped outside.
Armor sealed.
Boosters activated.
Both rose above the root barrier.
Below them, civilians were scattered through the park.
Several had taken shelter behind a maintenance building.
A jogger lay beside the path with a Yin arrow embedded in the ground inches from his leg.
The energy radiating from it had burned his skin badly enough that he couldn't stand.
Another woman was trapped beneath roots.
Alive.
Terrified.
And somewhere deeper inside the park—
TWANG.
Selene moved.
An arrow of compressed green-black energy passed through the space where her head had been.
It hit a tree behind her.
The entire trunk exploded.
Garrick stared.
"That seems unfriendly."
A second arrow came.
Garrick raised one arm.
His Ghost Barrier unfolded.
A curved green shield appeared.
BOOM!
The arrow struck.
The barrier cracked.
Garrick's eyes widened.
"Oh."
Selene drew her rifle.
"Different power level from Bunnyman."
"No kidding."
They landed.
Something moved among the trees.
Hooves.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Clop.
Clop.
Clop.
Garrick whispered:
"That's creepy."
Selene looked at him.
"You fought a serial killer in a rabbit costume ten minutes ago."
"Different genre."
The Goatman stepped into view.
Seven feet tall.
Long horns.
Arms slightly too long.
Dark fur wet with spectral mist.
Its face was disturbingly human from the nose upward.
Below that?
Goat.
Its mouth opened.
Rows of flat teeth.
That somehow made it worse.
Predators were supposed to have fangs.
Flat teeth meant it looked like it could politely ask for lettuce before murdering you.
The bow grew in its hand.
Actual branches extended from its wrist, twisting together.
The string formed from green energy.
Goatman studied the Mercers.
Then spoke.
"Gate."
Its voice sounded like wind through dead leaves.
Selene raised her rifle.
"You came for the Gateway."
Its eyes shifted toward her.
"Warm."
One hoof scraped the earth.
"So much..."
The creature inhaled.
"...food."
Garrick's expression darkened.
"Yeah."
He extended his staff.
"We're going to need you to not call our city food."
Goatman looked at him.
"Small man."
Garrick glanced at Selene.
"Did the seven-foot goat just call me small?"
"Emotionally, perhaps."
"Rude."
The ground exploded.
Roots shot upward.
Selene boosted into the air.
Garrick wasn't fast enough.
Vines wrapped his ankle.
Then his waist.
Then both arms.
They tightened.
His armor groaned.
WARNING: EXTERNAL COMPRESSION
Goatman drew the bow.
Selene fired.
Goatman turned.
Her first blast hit its shoulder.
Green ectoplasm sprayed.
The second—
a wall of roots rose.
Blocked it.
The third—
Goatman fired its arrow through her shot.
Both energies collided.
BOOM!
Selene spun through the air.
Goatman immediately redirected toward the trapped civilians.
That was the difference.
Bunnyman had been crazy.
Cruel.
Predatory.
But simple.
Goatman thought tactically.
It understood leverage.
Threaten civilians.
Force the hunters to respond.
One arrow formed.
Aimed toward the maintenance building.
Selene's eyes widened.
"Garrick!"
"I SEE IT!"
He flexed.
The serum in his body pushed already-superhuman muscles against the vines.
His armor amplified the force.
White-green plating strained.
Then—
SNAP!
One vine broke.
Then another.
Garrick ripped both arms free.
The arrow released.
TWANG!
Garrick threw himself between it and the building.
Ghost Barrier.
Maximum output.
The green shield expanded.
The arrow hit.
KRAAAAAK!
The barrier shattered.
Garrick was thrown backward.
He hit the maintenance building hard enough to crack the wall.
But the civilians behind it remained untouched.
Mostly.
One screamed.
Another yelled:
"IS THAT A GOAT?!"
Garrick slid down the wall.
"Technically!"
Selene flew straight at Goatman.
No more ranged exchange.
She drew the Ghost Blade.
Green-white energy extended from the handle.
Goatman swung its bow.
The living weapon transformed.
Branches twisted.
Bow became staff.
CLANG!
Selene's blade hit wood.
The wood held.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Interesting."
Goatman shoved.
She flew backward.
It was strong.
Not Garrick strong.
But stronger than any ordinary human.
Another root rose behind her.
She cut it without turning.
Then three more.
Slash.
Spin.
Boost.
Her armor carried her over the fourth.
Goatman pulled vegetation from every direction.
Bushes.
Roots.
Tree limbs.
Even flowers.
A rose bush tried to strangle Garrick.
He stared at it.
"Absolutely not."
He punched it.
The bush exploded.
"That's for Valentine's Day prices."
Selene landed beside him.
"Focus."
"I am focused."
"On the ghost."
"Also the economy."
Goatman raised both hands.
The entire park moved.
Trees bent.
Roots rolled beneath the soil.
The ground rose like something enormous was breathing underneath it.
Selene checked her sensors.
Energy climbing.
Fast.
"He's drawing Yin through the vegetation."
Garrick looked around.
"So stop him?"
"Brilliant."
"Thank you."
They separated.
Goatman sent roots toward both.
Garrick charged through them.
Not around.
Through.
His armor's boosters fired behind him.
Roots snapped across his shoulders.
One wrapped his arm.
He kept going.
Another hit his barrier.
Green light flashed.
Still going.
Goatman's eyes widened.
That was probably the moment it realized Garrick Mercer had never encountered a problem he couldn't interpret as:
run at it harder.
Garrick lowered his shoulder.
"HELLO!"
He hit Goatman like a truck.
BOOM!
Both flew through three trees.
Goatman recovered first.
A clawed hand grabbed Garrick by the helmet.
Then slammed him into the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Selene winced.
"He's going to complain about his neck tomorrow."
She fired the Ghost Net.
Goatman saw it coming.
A wall of vines intercepted.
The net wrapped around vegetation.
Useless.
Goatman smiled.
Intelligent.
Selene smiled back.
"Good."
The vines tightened around the net.
Exactly what she'd wanted.
She triggered the charge.
ZZZZZZZK!
Five hundred volts of ectoplasmic disruption raced through every connected vine.
Straight back to Goatman.
The creature convulsed.
Garrick rolled free.
"Oh, that's clever."
"Thank you."
Goatman screamed.
Plants across the park shuddered.
Its control weakened.
Selene pointed.
"Now!"
Garrick drew the Ghost Bazooka.
Goatman's eyes widened.
For perhaps the first time in its supernatural existence, it understood what it felt like to regret standing in a straight line.
"Smile!"
"Garrick."
"Right."
He fired.
WHOOOOOOM!
Goatman crossed both arms.
Roots formed a shield.
The blast hit.
For two seconds, the barrier held.
Then it disintegrated.
The Goatman flew across the park.
Hit the ground.
Rolled.
Stopped beside the duck pond.
Steam rose from its body.
Still alive.
Still moving.
Still dangerous.
Selene landed.
Ghost Rifle aimed.
"Containment?"
Garrick looked at the creature.
Goatman slowly pushed itself upright.
Its yellow eyes moved between them.
Then toward the city.
It was thinking.
Calculating.
Unlike Bunnyman, it understood defeat.
It also understood escape.
Its body started becoming transparent.
Selene's scanner screamed.
"He's phasing!"
Garrick threw a Ghost Bomb.
Goatman vanished.
The bomb detonated.
BOOM!
A shockwave spread across the pond.
For one horrible second—
nothing.
Then Goatman reappeared halfway through a tree.
The disruption had forced it solid.
It screamed.
Selene fired.
One rifle blast hit its chest.
Second hit the shoulder.
Third struck the leg.
Garrick launched the Ghost Net.
This time?
Nothing intercepted it.
FWUMP!
The net wrapped around Goatman.
The creature hit the ground.
Roots immediately began rising.
Selene activated her staff.
She drove it into the earth.
A circular Ghost Barrier expanded around Goatman.
Not defensive.
Containment.
The roots hit the inside of the barrier.
Stopped.
Goatman stared at them.
Then at her.
Clever enough to understand.
Trapped.
Garrick approached with the bazooka over one shoulder.
"You know..."
He looked at the creature.
"I kind of respect the bow."
Goatman hissed.
"But you shot at civilians."
Garrick's expression hardened.
"That's where respect ends."
Selene checked the containment reading.
C-Rank.
Stable.
Hostile.
Irrecoverably transformed.
No indication of a human soul structure they could safely separate.
She looked at Garrick.
"Do it."
The Goatman pulled once against the net.
Then spoke.
"Gate..."
Selene paused.
The creature smiled again.
"...more coming."
Garrick's face changed.
"What does that mean?"
Goatman laughed.
A horrible, dry sound.
"Warm world."
Its eyes glowed brighter.
"Open door."
Selene's stomach tightened.
Then Goatman's body surged with energy.
Containment readings spiked.
"Self-detonation!" she shouted.
Garrick didn't hesitate.
Bazooka raised.
Fire.
WHOOOOOOOM!
The blast hit before Goatman could release the stored Yin.
The ghost's body broke apart.
Green light rushed outward.
The containment barrier caught it.
For several seconds, the park became a glowing sphere.
Then everything collapsed inward.
Silence.
The Ghost Net fell empty.
Selene's containment unit filled with condensed ectoplasmic energy.
HOSTILE ENTITY CONVERSION: 71%
Garrick exhaled.
"Well."
Selene looked around the park.
Damaged trees.
Broken paths.
Several injured civilians being helped by emergency responders now entering from the southern gate.
One man with a burned leg.
One woman with a sprained shoulder after being thrown by roots.
Two teenagers covered in scratches.
No deaths.
Again.
They'd made it.
Barely.
Garrick rested the bazooka against his shoulder.
"Two C-Ranks in one night."
Selene didn't answer.
She was looking at her scanner.
The small ghosts were still appearing.
Still disappearing.
One.
Three.
Six.
Gone.
Another stronger signature crossed Havenbrook's western edge.
For perhaps two seconds.
Then—
nothing.
Garrick walked beside her.
"Still happening?"
"Yes."
His humor vanished.
Selene increased the scanner's sensitivity.
Nothing.
Expanded the spectral band.
Nothing.
Checked dimensional disturbances.
Nothing.
Whatever was out there was hunting ghosts across Havenbrook without appearing on a single Mercer system.
Not once.
Not even a shadow.
And that...
was worse than either C-Rank.
Bunnyman was insane.
Goatman was clever.
This thing?
This thing knew how not to be found.
Selene stared at the empty section of the screen where another ghost had just vanished.
"The portal concentration drew them here."
Garrick nodded.
"You expected that."
"I expected an increase."
She looked toward the distant glow above their district.
"Not this much."
The lab barriers should have contained more of the leakage.
They hadn't.
Yin energy had seeped beyond them.
Through the property defenses.
Into Havenbrook.
Not enough for humans to notice.
More than enough for ghosts.
Their technology was improving.
Tomorrow's systems would be better than today's.
Next year's might make tonight's equipment look primitive.
That was how science worked.
But right now?
There were things in the dark that their machines couldn't see.
Garrick glanced toward the scanner.
"S-Rank?"
"No."
Selene shook her head.
"We don't know."
That was the problem.
Their equipment couldn't measure what it couldn't detect.
"Could be B."
"Could be A."
She looked at the empty screen.
"Could be something else entirely."
Garrick was quiet.
Which, for Garrick Mercer, was basically a national emergency.
Selene turned toward him.
"No chasing it."
He opened his mouth.
"No."
Closed it.
"We report this to the Department."
He sighed.
"Fine."
"We upgrade the city net."
"Fine."
"We review the lab barriers."
"Fine."
"And we do not attempt to exterminate something above our measurable combat threshold."
Garrick looked personally wounded.
"You're taking all the fun out of science."
"I'm keeping you alive long enough to do more science."
He considered that.
"Acceptable."
Behind them, paramedics carried the injured jogger toward an ambulance.
Another civilian sat wrapped in a blanket.
A little girl who had been in the park with her older brother stared at Garrick's armor.
Then at Selene.
Then at the scorched crater where Goatman had been.
"Are you superheroes?"
Garrick immediately straightened.
Selene saw it happen.
She knew exactly what was coming.
"No," she said.
Too late.
Garrick put both hands on his hips.
"Well—"
Selene grabbed his arm.
"We're researchers."
The girl looked disappointed.
Garrick whispered:
"Researchers can be superheroes."
"Battle Wagon."
"But—"
"Now."
He allowed himself to be dragged away.
The girl waved.
Garrick waved back enthusiastically.
Selene climbed into the vehicle.
The damaged hood groaned.
A washing-machine-shaped dent remained from Bunnyman.
Garrick stared at it again.
"Never forget."
Selene started the engine.
"You are mourning sheet metal."
"It had a name."
"You named it tonight."
"That doesn't make the bond less real."
The Battle Wagon rolled out of the park.
Behind them, Havenbrook slowly settled.
Ambulances moved.
Police blocked damaged roads.
Department systems began receiving Mercer combat logs.
Two C-Rank entities had entered the city.
Two C-Rank entities were gone.
No civilians dead.
For one night?
That counted as a victory.
But Selene kept one eye on the ghost sonar.
Weak signature.
Gone.
Another.
Gone.
Another.
Gone.
Something powerful was moving through Havenbrook.
Something their technology couldn't see.
Something that was making every lesser ghost unfortunate enough to cross its path disappear.
Garrick glanced at the display.
"You think it's feeding?"
Selene watched another marker vanish.
"Yes."
"Getting stronger?"
"Possibly."
He frowned.
"So we have a giant invisible ghost somewhere in the city eating other ghosts."
"That's the working theory."
A pause.
Garrick looked through the windshield.
"...Still better than taxes."
Selene stared at him.
"What?"
She turned back to the scanner.
Outside, Havenbrook looked peaceful again.
Streetlights.
Quiet houses.
Trees moving gently in the wind.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing frightening.
Nothing that suggested a predator beyond their equipment was moving somewhere above those rooftops.
Selene's eyes narrowed.
"Whatever you are..."
Another signal vanished.
"...we'll find you eventually."