Tim awakes to a hurried shake and the scent of Jane and Lance, his eyes barely able to open to find their worried faces..

  “Huh? What’s going on.”

  “Edward called, it's an emergency.” Lance says.

  “What happened?” Tim tries to get more serious, to quickly get to his feet, but the nap hasn't made him feel better. The exhaustion is fully upon him now, even with all of his strength his arms and legs feel so heavy, take so much effort to move, that it's an exercise in sheer will power to stand.

  “One of Darik’s friends has turned up dead.” Lance sighs.

  “What? Who?” He asks while stumbling slightly, earning a look of concern from both of his friends.

  “Edward said his name is Clark.” Lance answers.

  “Cristine is still in the cell?”

  “Yes, Edward confirmed before calling me.”

  Was it a coincidence then? No, Lance wouldn’t bother to wake him up if it was.

  “So...” Tim starts to question.

  “Edward, like you, has additional senses. While on his way home, he sensed something and investigated. He found Clark dead, and his parents unconscious. After investigating the body, he found it had wounds that match accounts of the Kamaitachi attacks.”

  “When they bite someone they take out chunks from them that don’t bleed.” Jane notes.

  “The Kamaitachi? I thought Ed took care of it?” Tim asks.

  “As did he.” Lance says.

  “How’d it get past the wards?”

  “They were either used up or disturbed enough that the circles broke.”

  “I need to hurry, go and get the Naclfe suit and bring it to me as soon as you can. I’ll improvise until you do.”

  Jane opens her mouth to protest but stops, biting her lip as she looks down and rubs her arm.

  “I’ll be ok.” Tim puts her forehead on hers.

  “It's one of the things that can hurt you, and you look...” She whispers.

  He doesn’t know what to say to make her feel better, there isn’t really anything to say. He could barely keep up with the Kamitachi before, and now his body feels like the heaviest thing he’s ever had to lift.

  Edward will be good backup, but he can’t travel as fast as Tim, and in order to protect the five targets left, they’ll need to split up. Then again, it's not like the targets are completely helpless this time, maybe they have more backup than just Ecto.

  “I’ll be safe, and I’ll be prepared, promise.” He tilts her head up to him and smiles.

  “But—”

  “Nope! No buts.” He kisses her cheek. “You believe in me right?”

  “I... sure, yeah, but Tim, that's not how real life works.”

  “I’m a superhero now, if real life doesn’t work that way, then I’ll make it.”

  Jane rolls her eyes and sighs.

  “I’m serious.” Tim continues, suppressing a yawn. “The world doesn’t work that way? Fine, I’ll just change it then, change for you, for me, and for everyone.” He nods confidently. “I can do it now, because I’m Prehistoric Kid, and I'm going to make your worries, go extinct.”

  Jane can’t help but snort and smile, turning her face back towards the ground and shaking her head.

  “You’re an idiot.” She sighs.

  “I'm your idiot,” He corrects, “and I’ll see you soon.”

  ***

  It’s far from the time to practice weird transformations, but the Meganeura provides too many benefits for Tim to ignore. Insects can tire, fatigue, but they’re more resistant to it than vertebrates, and he needs every extra way to manage his exhaustion that he can find.

  It’s mostly due to major differences in their circulatory system, Tim isn’t an expert but he understands the basics. Mammals aren't amazing at breathing all things considered, birds are better, but their circulatory system is all concentrated in their torsos, insects perform respiration all over their bodies via organs called Spiracles. Different parts of their bodies receive oxygen independent of each other, making circulation faster, the more oxygen you get the more energized you get, hence it taking the edge off.

  It’s also quickly proving to be his fastest transformation, which is extra necessary if he was going to keep his promise to Jane. It’ll also take some minor theft but he didn’t feel particularly bad about it as he transforms into a small, Cretaceous bird and zooms through the doors of a Walmart.

  At this point he’s not particularly concerned with many eye witnesses, too much has happened to not be on Site-51’s radar, so when people see him carrying off an unopened carton of salt he finds it more amusing than anything.

  Iron, and especially steel, is common in any city, and there’s more than enough iron in any sign or street post that Tim can use as a weapon. Salt, while technically plentiful in basically all life, seems to need to be in a more pure form to counter ghosts, and honestly as fun as beating spirit over the head with metal rods is, Tim quickly learned the value of the seasoning's defense over the offense of the metal.

  Back outside and into the night air, his dragonfly form makes it to Tim and Darik’s neighborhood in record time. He goes human and lands on Darik’s roof, his knees buckling as he lands.

  “Fuck.” He shakes his head and smacks his cheek a few times with his free hand, the case of salt in the other. Transforming is making the effects worse, making him light headed.

  As he extends his senses to search for Darik, he hears his heart pumping faster than normal, and his enhanced touch lets him notice the tip of his fingers are stuttering. It reminds him of the symptoms of low blood sugar he had learned about in school, which tracks enough in his head. His healing factor could probably keep him going for days, but it needs to pull from something, and whatever it is he’s low on.

  “God damn it!” He yells as he doesn’t find a trace of Darik in his apartment, where is he?

  PK jumps down to the door and breathes in through his nose, working the myriad of scents against his pallet until he finds the one he’s looking for.

  “Got it.” He says to himself and jumps back up, catching his foot on the edge of a roof, breaking it and sending him tumbling onto the top of it.

  He shakes his head and wobbles up, keeping a tight grip on the salt as he hones in on Darik’s trail. It’s going towards the school, Henry’s house is near there, good, that kills two birds with one stone..

  “How far away is Ecto?” PK says into his wrist while he leaps across rooftops.

  “He’s nearly to Bradly’s house, so he’s a while yet from being able to support you.”

  “That’s fi-fine, I just...” He shakes his head again, his mouth couldn’t keep up with his mind, the hypoglycemic like effects feel like they’re intensifying by the minute. He might be too weak to fight, too keep his promise, but his resolve steels as his calamity sense picks up a target closing in on Henry’s house.

  One, two, three, six people are inside? Darik, Henry, his girlfriend, Henry’s relatives probably. Too many to protect against something with razor wind. He’ll need to get it outside, keep it outside, but it’s closing in faster than him.

  He doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to burn through himself anymore than he already has, not for these people. But it apparently doesn't matter as his body stubbornly acts, tossing the salt in the air and jumping up, his vision fading as his transformation sputters, growing and shrinking and melting in and out of itself before he finally becomes the arm sized insect once more, and grabs the salt case from the air like a dragonfly would snag a fly.

  Before he knows it he’s past the house, following his calamity sense to hone straight onto the Kamaitachi, its ghostly body looking even stranger under the effects of PK’s compound eyes, indescribable, covered in colors that don’t have names.

  PK pushes his front leg through the box and rips out a canister of salt as he approaches, crushes it, then rains the mineral down onto the ghost like napalm. Its ectoplasmic form bubbles and it howls up into the sky, its eyes tracking PK.

  PK sees it launching its razor wind attack from a mile away, it's the obvious next move, but even in his fastest form yet he can’t dodge it. The projectile slams into him, cutting his box in half and ruining multiple canisters of salt, even more bursting as they make contact with the street. His exoskeleton holds against the attack, but as he tumbles through the air, PK realizes his wings aren’t nearly as tough. The pain doesn’t register until he hits the ground, sharp pangs coming from the ruined wing shooting through his body as the Kamaitachi sneers and closes in on him. He digs his 5 free legs into the ground and beats his one good wing, blowing the salt scattered all over the ground up into a defensive cloud that covers the weasel like a sandstorm tearing through a desert.

  He can do this, he can do this, he already has the ghost on its backfoot, or that's what he thinks, until it darts from the cloud and its scythe swipes through his body, his vision going black then comes back after he slumps to the ground. He struggles to get back to his feet as the Kamataichi comes around for a second strike, and he is barely able to beat his wing, sending him scraping across the ground and whipping up another wind of salt.

  As a Meganeura, he’s able to see all around him, in three hundred and sixty degrees, an alien sensation, a useful tool, and an enormous distraction in his state and in a fight. That, combined with wanting to intercept the ghost before it enters Henry’s house, he totally forgot the reason he went for Darik first. The fight has escalated enough for a few people to leave their houses, some running, some pointing, some recording and yelling angrily about why their phones aren’t working, but the right person hasn’t shown up yet, he needs more of a scene.

  His form stutters, wings and legs sucking in and out as his mass grows, shrinks, and grows. A crest sprouts from the back of his head as his compound eyes struggle to retract into reptilian ones, his two extra legs refusing to disappear until PK has put on nearly a ton of weight. The Kamaitachi’s blades find purchase as he morph finishes, the fifteen foot tall, thirty three foot long Parasaurolophus shuttering in pain. PK’s four ton, tan and stripy black body stumbles, as his bright red nasal crest begins to rumble.

  A beautiful, bizarre, alien song begins to emanate from PK, one the Earth hasn’t heard for more than sixty five million years. The sound shifts and changes as it travels through the bone and soft tissues in the crest, the melody shaking the ground all around him as the soundwaves travel for miles, like the low rumble of an elephant. Dogs bark, birds leave their perches in flocks, and most importantly, people begin to leave their houses, including Darik.

  This adds more bystanders to the equation, but the park across from the school remains empty. All PK has to do is lure the Yokai there, and make sure Darik follows. His form drops to human, his limbs fully shaking after two more transformations, and he weakly shoves his arm into the ground. He grits his teeth and rips out rebar, turning and smacking the Kamiatch across the face, sending it up into the air. He snaps the bar in half and sends it like a spear into Henry’s yard, before launching himself after the ghost.

  He means to bash the Kamaitachi again but the jump makes his vision fade and he misses the follow up, instead flying past it. Luckily, he has its attention and it chases after him as he angles himself down towards the middle of the park, his eyes doing a once over to make sure his hearing and smell didn’t miss any innocents. He doesn’t try to land with any style or grace, simply landing with a loud crash, and struggles to his feet, using the rebar rod as support as the Kamaitachi descends, smearing and beginning to chuckle.

  “You’re going to die.” It taunts.

  “You can-” PK pants, trying to catch his breath. “Talk huh?”

  It doesn’t follow up with another remark, it simply smiles and chuckles as it approaches with its arms spread out, ready to finish off PK with a deadly hug. PK raises up the bar and takes up as close to a samurai stance as he can, and smiles as he hears the beating of insect-like wings.

  “You hear that weasel, it's the...” He tries to quip but needs to hold up the bar and parry a scythe as the ghost doesn’t give him time to finish. He tries to jump over the second, but it swipes through his legs, making his body convulse as his legs finish coming up. His eyes roll up into the back of his head as he briefly loses consciousness again, then finds himself being dropped on a path out of someone’s arm, the beating of hummingbird wings fading with a crackle of energy.

  “I thought you said this shit was taken care of.” Darik spits on the ground as the Kamaitachi narrows its eyes at them both, Darik raising his half of the rebar and bouncing it against his shoulder.

  “Give me... a second.” PK struggles, “I promise I’ll have something clever to say.”

  “Nothing you say is clever.” Darik’s hair begins to raise up as the park illuminates with red light, a red slit of energy forming in front of his gut.

  It opens up and grass begins to pour out of it, covering his body with it as other parts morph into plant matter. Bouts of insect chitin begin to rise up from the grass, giving Darik’s new form clawed hands. Meat comes out next, growing into a full bulls head before its meat is stripped away back into the hole, leaving just the skull that raises up and fuses with Darik’s head.

  “Gross.” PK struggles to stand up.

  “Fuck off.” Darik says as the glowing red dots in the skull track the Kamaitachi, now slowly stalking around them in a circle, apparently wary of the newcomer.

  “Need a name by the way?” PK looks up, Darik’s new form makes him twelve feet tall, and as wide a build as the Hulk.

  He snorts, the breath funneling from the skull so hot it comes out as steam, even in the summer hair, “Not from someone who chose to put “Kid” in their name.”

  “I like the way the C and the K flow together.”

  “Its shit,” Darik readies the rebar as the Kamaitachi circle tightens, “Doesn’t demand any respect, too many syllables, nah, you definitely ain't naming me.” The grass strands begin to tighten like muscles as Darik initiates the first attack, leaping at the Kamaitachi and bashing its head into the ground, sending the dirt and grass flying up into the sky, obscuring PK’s vision, save for Darik's glowing red eyes.

  “How bout you call me Chimera.” He says as brings the rebar down again, “name straight out of myth.”

  “If you know so much about myth,” PK dashes forward as he sees the Kamaitachi rise up behind Chimera as the dirt settles, “maybe fight a ghost a little smarter yeah?”

  PK swings the bar to the side, but the weasel blocks it with his scythe, while his other one passes through Darik’s back and out his gut, though it seems like the claw stops short at the red outlined hole in space that floats just inches away from Darik.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  The Kamaitachi turns on PK, fangs bared, and tries to bite down on its weakened prey, until some eyeballs pop up on Chimera’s back, all focusing on the ghost. The rebar in his hand gets sucked from his claws into his plant form, then juts out of his back just below the eyes, skewering the Kamaitachi, stopping it bite short and allowing PK to clumsily back off, falling onto his ass.

  The ghost turns and scratches at Chimera, the tips of its blades barely entering him, A new arm sprouts under the rebar and lets Chimera hold the ghost at a further distance, then his torso begins to spin around as he lowers the ghost to the ground. The rebar sending up mud and grass, a huge chunk slapping into PK’s face.

  He quickly wipes it off and stumbles up, “Quit fucking up the park you moron, it phases! That’s not doing anything.”

  “Seems to be working to—” Chimera looks at the tip of his spear, the ghost missing.

  The Kamaitachi shoots up into the air and begins to circle them, a tornado forming under it that quickly sweeps up PK into it, before a grass strand wraps around his ankle. Chimera starts reeling PK down as more strands lock himself to the ground, but the Kamiatschi emerges from the whirlwind and launches razor wind slashes at him. One hits the skull, doing nothing, another the hole, nothing, and then the third hits his legs. The grass parts of Chimera’s amalgamated form apparently don’t match the durability of the rest, and his legs sever, the tornado catching him and PK and they begin to spin.

  PK’s first instinct is to transform, but it doesn’t work, exhaustion tearing through him because of the attempt. He tries to track the ghost’s movements, but his eyes aren’t having it, his body just isn't listening to him after trying to transform. He should’ve went for his amp too, should’ve grabbed food when he went for the salt and dug into it as he flew here, maybe that would’ve bought him something.

  Maybe eating the salt could be enough? There’s plenty of intact canisters still intact nearby, or maybe the grass? But wouldn’t he have to transform to even metabolize that properly? Could his human body handle it? He doesn’t get the opportunity to ponder anything further, as a slash rips through him, and he blacks out.

  He comes to and wonders how long he’s been out, it couldn’t have been long, he isn't dead yet, but the park’s torn apart, and Darik’s hulking form is taking heavy breaths, on one knee with another hand planted on the ground for support.

  The Kamaitchi cackles as it launches a slash, severing the arm and making Darik fall forward until another one sprouts and catches himself, only for more slashes rip through him and send him backward, falling next to PK on the ground.

  Tim tries to lift himself up, but his whole body is shaking, his heart racing, his fingers and toes numb, and it’s steadily creeping from them into his hands, feet, and up his limbs. God he’s hungry, he just wants to eat and eat and eat. His thoughts are consumed by it, he just needs to consume something. Consume?

  PK’s eyes flick to Darik lying by him, his body reformed but clearly under the effects of the Kamaitach’s attack. Whatever pool of healing his powers has, it was still ample, but just like Tim’s, Darik’s healing factor can’t compensate for the supernatural damage. But what if he was stronger? Had better material to work with than grass, bugs, and beef?

  “Chi-ch-ch-” PK tries while painting, his breaths becoming faster, his heart beating faster. “Chimera!” He wills out. “Take a chunk!” His arm trembles as he moves it across towards the hulk.

  Darik doesn’t hesitate and grabs Tim as the Kamaitachi launches a final assault. Tim's eyes roll into the back of his head as Darik’s power rips a chunk out of his arm, spraying green blood across the park. The chunk of flesh floats up and the crimson void begins to deconstruct it, consuming every bit of meat and sucking it in.

  The Kamaitachi lifts a scythe high above its head, goes to bring it down on Darik, before it's blown away by the force of Darik’s void reacting, warping. Tim himself is blown away and into a jungle gym, its metal bars bending from the impact. He forces his head up and watches as the chasm continues to go berserk. The red outline explodes like a lava lamp as Kirby dots begin to pour out of it, then the light flickers from green to red, faster and faster and faster, lighting up the park like a Christmas themed rave. The hole stutters in and out of existence as the green and red mix into a sickly brown, the brown holding, exploding with more dots as the crimson glow reasserts itself. The hole opens up wide and begins expelling twisted spires of organs and flesh into the air that land onto the ground with loud, disgusting plops and squelches, they begin to grow gnarled dinosaur skulls as the organs rupture and spew green blood that brown and rots as it covers the ground. A Tyrannosaurus Rex head sprouts from the mouth and shrieks up to the moon, before its lower jaw falls off and it sinks back into the organs, exploding in yellow, green, white and red puss. Darik’s void briefly shuts, cutting off the organs, causing them to rot and die faster and faster in a noxious cloud of steam.

  Then it opens up wide, the shine of red reflecting off of masses of meat as the rabidly burst through the threshold and dig themselves into Darik. A neck forms off the back of his right shoulder, first the bones, then the veins, then grass before it’s covered in layers of muscles, a small T.rex skull forming on its top, deep sunken eyes holding tiny red light. Red Kirby dots flow from half of its face that refuses to build itself any further, exposing muscle and bone.

  The orange and white shell of an Orthocone extends from Chimera’s left arm, the ancient mollusk tentacles intertwining with the grass tendrils before 4 erupt wildly half way down his arm, wrapping around both pieces of rebar. A beak spouts from the top of his wrist and snaps wildly, as the arm grows thicker and thicker with scales and feathers and shark teeth and incomplete snake bodies. Tree bark mixes with Stegosaurus plates and runs down his back, before a wood and meat tail forms behind him, an Ankylosaurus club mixing with a Stegosaurus thagomizer appearing at the end of it.

  All the added mass grows Darik to nearly 20 feet tall, and makes his body so hot it's more than just his breath that creates steam now. It apparently wasn’t a pleasant process either, as Darik wavers and takes a knee, panting.

  “What the fuck was that?” Chimera asks as he stands tall, his shadow covering PK.

  Tim tries to answer, but it's taking everything in him to even stay awake, but he is able to manage a smile as he sees the Kamaitachi shrink away.

  The ghost shoots up, the T’Rex head tracking its movement, then suddenly unleashes a beam of energy from its mouth that blows away the tips of its jaw. The energy engulfs the weasel and sends it falling back to the earth and into the ground. It springs up in front of PK, determined to finish the job, but Darik’s tentacles whip out and skewer its top and lower half with the iron weapons. The other two tentacles reach over and twist the embedded rebar into a circle around the ghost and then pulls it in.

  Chimera snaps the tip off and bashes the ghost's head over and over and over again, knocking fangs from its head as they constantly pop back up. The Kamaitachi struggles to break free, its scythes scraping at Darik and launching razor wind that only manages to split the outer layer of plant matter.

  Darik continues to bash and bash it, until it shrieks angrily, twisting its body around like a worm trying to struggle off of a fishing hook. It rips and tears against the iron, until it rips itself in half to escape and falls to the ground. Darik goes to skewer the ghost again but it sinks into the ground with a chuckle, then emerges right under the boy, spinning like a drill through the middle of his form. Darik’s body shudders and he falls to a knee as the Kamaitachi goes to dive bomb him, still spinning like a drill, laughing, when the roar of a motorcycle drowns out its chortles.

  It tries to stop in midair as fear replaces its smile, but it doesn’t have time as an eerie green beam makes contact with its center torso and it explodes, leaving only its neck, head, and right arm. It turns to face the fast approaching Ecto and lets loose one last slash, and Ecto hits his bike’s brakes. He launches into the air and gets inches from the weasel, and fires another beam. It makes contact and only the beginning of a scream escapes its mouth as the Kamaitachi is entirely destroyed.

  Tim's vision fades as Ecto begins to approach him as Darik shrinks, relief washing over him as he can finally pass out, a ping of guilt hitting right before he falls unconscious.

  He wakes up with a start, coughing on food as it's midway through sliding down his throat. He pounds his chest as he kaffs, Ecto placing a hand on his back and rubbing it.

  “Yo-you’re ok.” He pats gently.

  Tim manages to take in his surroundings now, and sees the faces of Darik, Henry, and his girlfriend. His hand shoots up and touches at his face, and he sighs in relief as he feels his mask still on. He was being fed while unconscious, so he was worried even more people knew his identity now, but of course Lance would’ve included a feature that let the mask move with his mouth.

  “You lied to me!” The small girl yells at him as Ecto brings a plate from a nightstand and sets it on PK’s lap.

  “Huh?” PK narrows his lenses at her.

  “You said you were an alien! That that thing was an alien.”

  Darik scowls at her, “Shut the fuck up Emma, now isn’t the time.”

  “I thought I was going to get abducted!” She yells back and an argument quickly breaks out between them, with Henry trying to mediate.

  “Do you n-n-need help?” Ecto asks PK, both of them turning their attention towards each other.

  “Uh.” He lifts his arm, still heavy, and flexes his hand, still numb. “I can manage.”

  “I’m... I’m sorry.” Ecto balls up the bed’s sheet in his hand, which causes Tim to realise he is in fact, in a bed. This recent trend of him passing out and waking up in random places needs to stop.

  “For?” Tim hand shakes as he takes a fork and plunges it into some cut up, rare beef and it’s the best damn thing he can ever remember tasting.

  “I wasn’t fast enough... I-I-I, you weren't hea-heal-healing when I grabbed you. You-ou were losing so much blood.”

  “I didn’t realise you cared so much.” PK drops his fork and Ecto catches it.

  “Of course I do.” Ecto whispers. “You’re Lance’s friend, I don’t... he can’t lose another one.”

  “Well, you saved me, I’m good Ecto.” PK winks to him. “We gotta talk business though, anything notable happen in the aftermath?”

  “A lot of diff-different emergency crews showed up, police, am-ambulance, among others. The park is completely taped off now as some “cleaning cr-crews” handle everything. I... they’re Arch, so...”

  “Great.” PK sighs.

  Yet another thing to add to his plate, Tim wouldn’t be shocked at all if Arch can manage to do something with his blood, not to mention whatever bio-hazard Darik left.

  “Co-come on, keep eating.” Ecto brings the piece of meat up to PK’s mouth and he opens it with a sigh.

  “This is embarrassing.” He grumbles as he chews.

  “Yeah...” Ecto says as he brings up another piece. “Di-Digi said protein i-is the best fo-for replenishing your healing fac-factor. Carbs next.”

  “Right, where are we by the way?”

  “My house.” Henry answers as the background argument begins to lull. “Not like I was going to let you get propped up on a motorcycle after saving me and my girl twice.”

  PK extends his senses and picks up who he assumes is Henry’s parents on a lower floor. He lives right next to school, the houses there generally larger, on occasion nicer, then the rest of the neighborhood. It really depended on the family and how much they interact with all the drug dealers around. Henry, despite being a user himself, always seemed to be on the nice and big side, his parents not interacting with any dealers as far as Tim ever noticed.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He says with hesitant genuineness.

  Tim has never liked Henry, and honestly liked him even less than Darik. He has a good family, a good home supporting him, and he still chose to do drugs and harass people. That made him a worse person in Tim’s eyes.

  “Anyways!” Emma yells for PK’s attention. “You shouldn’t lie! Heroes don’t lie!”

  PK turns to Darik with an eyebrow raised, and Darik answers with an eye roll.

  “Of course heroes lie, we have secret identities.” PK puts simply before he eats another bite of steak.

  “Wait... I guess that makes sense.” Emma goes quiet and thinks way too hard on the topic.

  “Emma, Henry, get out, I need to talk to them.” Darik suddenly says, gesturing to the door.

  “What the fuck? It's my room, dickhead.” Henry scowls at his friend.

  “Fine, you can stay, but Emma should fuck off.” Darik sighs.

  “Don’t be mean to me!” Emma shouts.

  Henry sighs, “Babe, he looks serious.”

  “Wha? Are you going to make me wait in the hallway! What if your parents see me and start talking to me! I won’t be able to make anything up!”

  “Do they not know we're in here?” PK asks.

  “We snuck you in as they gawked at the police.” Henry rolls his eyes.

  “Baaabe.” The tiny girl pulls at Henry's shirt.

  “Darik, just let her stay.” Henry sighs.

  “Fine, but if she interrupts us I’m throwing her out myself.”

  Emma makes a zipping motion and then throws away the key, causing the entire room to share a look.

  “You don’t need to throw away the key if—” PK starts before Darik cuts him off.

  “It doesn’t matter, shut up and listen to me.” Darik looks directly into Tim’s lenses. “What are you doing about Cristine?”

  “She’s contained, told you already.”

  “You’re wrong, fucking obviously.” Darik doesn’t stop staring. “She sent that ghost, didn’t she?”

  Did she? Maybe the way her powers work is that whatever spirit she ensnared needs to follow her last orders? Or maybe the Kamaitachi was just evil and wanted to go through with killing them anyways? To which, it partially succeeded, something it doesn’t seem like Darik’s crew knows about yet.

  “It... was probably still following its last commands.” Tim reasons, swallowing his last piece of meat. “And we’re pretty sure that was her only Yokai not contained.”

  “Probably? Pretty sure?” Darik scoffs. “Are you fucking with me? Ae you fucking stupid? She’s trying to kill my friends, she ran a fucking sword through me, and you come at me with salt circles and maybes.” Darik grinds his teeth. “You don’t have any fucking clue if you actually really have her under control do you?”

  “Who’re you talking about?” Emma asks.

  “Cristine.” Darik answers without looking away.

  “Cristine? Cristine has powers?” Emma covers her mouth as a mix of hate and fear washes over her face, Henry grimacing with disgust before going over and hugging her.

  “Chimera, it's not very professional to drop a real name like—” PK begins but Darik slams his hands against the bed frame.

  “Don’t you dare fucking brush me off with some shitty joke!” Darik yells. “This isn’t a joke, you need to tell me, convince me that—”

  “Boys! Come down here for a moment.” Henry’s father calls from, PK detecting a deep sadness in his voice.

  Shit.

  “Coming dad! Come on Darik,” Henry says while putting a hand on his shoulder, “You know we can’t keep the old man waiting.”

  “I’m coming too babe!” Emma says and clings to Henry as he opens the bedroom door.

  “Stay put, we aren’t done.” Darik says and heads out, shutting the door.

  “We need to leave.” Ecto says in a low whisper.

  “I know, but I...”

  Then he hears a wail, a scream so pained it sounds like a young boy's heart was just ripped out, then frantic sprinting upstairs.

  Tim goes to try and hop out of the bed, but he’s still too weak, his body still shaking, and the door swings open. Darik sprints towards him, grabbing Tim by the chest of his costume and lifting him up.

  “Where the fuck is Cristine, Tim?” He demands as a slit in space opens in front of his chest.