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Paranormal Patrol

The remaining letters plastered on the door are mismatched and peeling. The cracked glass is dirty and tacky with residue where a few of the stickers have fallen off and have yet been replaced. You double check the business card you've been fiddling with for the last half hour. You hope that you're mistaken, that this isn't the place you've been looking for.

Sadly, you're at the right location.

Floorboards creak under your weight as you enter the dim office and the first thing that hits you is the musty smell of dust and old things. One of the old things in question, an antique wooden desk that any collector would kill to posses, shudders at the intrusion of fresh morning light, rustling the massive stacks of paper upon its surface. A deep male voice grumbles thickly from this dim corner, promising all sorts of unpleasant promises.

A held breath later and a kyrii's shaggy little head peeks up from the other side of the paper mountain. The only way to describe this individual is dull. Dull grey hair and fur, dull lusterless brown eyes, and a shapeless dull suit. His eyes narrow dangerously as he gives you a quick once over but seems to find you acceptable and arches back into a spine cracking stretch and yawn combo.

crack crack crack

I'm Tav. What can I do for you?'

You hold up the poor abused business card and before you even get a chance to say anything the bland kyrii reaches across his desk and snatches the card from your trembling fingers. Tav holds the card out then brings it close to his face, and holds it out again in an attempt to bring it into focus. You'd swear you could hear him muttering 'gotta find those glasses' under his breath. Tav's lips move as he reads the words on the card. He pauses at the end then rereads it again before rolling his eyes and dramatically gesturing towards you with the card.

So you'll be wanting Ein then? Should be in the back, I'll get him.

The kyrii groans to his feet, the old wood floor echoes its own complaint as he moves stiffly across the room and disappears through the only other door in the office. You take this as an opportunity to look around the questionable headquarters of the equally questionable "Paranormal Patrol." You notice a folder laying atop Tav's desk with the name EIN ALRICKS printed on the cover in big official letters, being the nosy individual you are you flip it open. The first page is filled with simple stats.

Name: Ein Alricks
DOB: August 14, 1979
Age: 29
POB: Haunted Oak Hospital
Species: Techo
Color: Skunk
Height: 6' 1
Weight: 180 lbs
Mother: Shirley Alricks
Father: Jeffery Alricks
Siblings:1 older sister (Patricia), 1 younger sister (Madeline)
Education: High School Degree from Haunted High School.
Current Occupation: Paranormal Consultant Assistant

The next page appears to be a psych evaluation. The document is filled with a cramped scrawl and it is almost impossible to read in some places, as if someone jotted them down as an after thought.

Relationship with family is amicable, if not warm, and is especially fond of his mother. Holds women in high respects, must have been brought on by living with so many women when growing up.
Is unable to back away from a challenge. Which can be both good and bad depending on the situation. He is especially fond of eating contests, for example. While the free meal is always appreciated, the gassy after effects are not. If he must suffer, all must suffer.

Modest, but not shy. Ein will gladly share information that is best left unshared. Be it gossip or TMI.

An active and restless individual. Has a habit of pacing around rooms when anxious. Has taken to carrying around a small pink rubber ball to bounce in order to keep himself occupied.

Is extremely attached to his angelpuss, Fluffy. The creature follows him everywhere and it is not uncommon to find Ein mumbling his paranormal theories to it.

The following page is titled simply
Paranormal Exposure

Ein's first exposure to the supernatural occurred when Ein was roughly 25 years old. Ein had brought home a prototype for a new house hold appliance that would prevent food from ever growing stale. While Ein was setting the appliance up in his apartment, his angelpuss, Fluffy, jumped onto the counter and knocked the appliance onto the floor. The appliance broke and the chemical being used as insulation leaked all over the floor, where the angelpuss ran through it in her attempt to flee the scene of the crime. It is believed that Fluffy licked the insulating compound off of her feet and swallowed some. The chemical proved to be highly poisonous and the angelpuss died shortly afterward.
Died, but not passed.
Fluffy's soul has remained on the realm of the living, where she seems content to follow Ein where ever he goes.

The last page is a sheet of paper that appears to have been ripped from a journal.

Just as you're getting ready to turn to the next page you hear the sound of angry voices arguing from the back rooms.

NO! DON'T PUT THAT IN TH-

Before Tav gets a chance to finish that sentence there is a loud explosion that causes the building to tremble. Dust falls from the ceiling in clouds that cause you to cough and choke. You manage to get yourself under control by the time Tav returns to the main room with a slightly singed and bemused looking krawk close behind him.

Oh yeah. Hey Ein, you've got a visitor.

Ein looks up at you with an open and curious face. He extends the hand that isn't wrapped up in paper towels out for you to shake.

Hey, I'm Ein. What can I do for you?

You continue to stare at the proffered hand, particularly at his slightly blackened finger tips. He gives you a wary glance of his own and slips his hand into the safety of a pocket.

You must be here for business then, why don't I take you down to my lab, Tav snorts inelegantly from his desk and Ein pointedly ignores it as he continues, and I can't show you what it is I do.

You take this into consideration. You glance at the soot covered Ein and the small trail of smoke that rises from a still smoldering lock of his hair and decide against it. It would probably be easier to deal with your spook problem yourself than hire the assistance of these two.

As you beat a hasty retreat you hear Ein ask Tav in a quizzical sort of tone,

Man, what a weirdo.

Just Another Day at the Office

The equipment is heavy and the straps are cutting into my shoulders, causing the tips of my fingers to tingle. I'm hot, sticky, and up to my knees in Neopian sewage and all I can think about is a that nice ham sandwich I left behind at the office. We'd received an emergency summons to flush out some low threat spooks that had apparently decided it'd be fun to squeeze through the pipes and goose pets as they sat on the pot. I start to mutter darkly about whiney civilians and the indecencies of interrupting a man at lunch when I realize that if I'm not careful I'll start to sound like that old sonnova gun.

Tav's ear is pressed against the slimy cement wall, his eyes closed tight while his mouth hangs open. Tav calls this his "Spiritual Conducting Mindset." I'm tempted to toss a few skittles in his mouth.

The old man stops abruptly and he shoots his arm out, smacking me in the abdomen. My partner's eyes snap wide open and I'm booking it before my mind has a chance to figure out why my legs are hauling me down the corridor we'd just come down. We're no more than a few feet before an gut wrenching screech nearly ruptures my ear drums.

The paranormal presence seems to thicken around us as we run. It gettin' to the point where I'm able to see activity, even without the assistance of those over-priced "Spook Specks." I might be mistaken, but when there is some serious spooky going on that even a non psychic like myself is almost choking on it I would assume that it would be wise to avoid that general vicinity.

ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?

Tav's a few steps behind me, the man might be twice my age and half my height but he can run when he needs to. It comes with the territory though. Sometimes if you can't appease the apparitions or snare the spooks you've got to out run the devils. Tav's not much of a distance man, he usually uses up all his adrenaline in the first few seconds, but he uses those precious moments to clever himself up a righteous plan.

Most of the time.

Surely you are not suggesting that running AWAY from the scary sound is a bad idea!

Don't call me Shirley. The man's logic is flawless, but I can't help but feel like I've seen a situation like this on the Animal Planet t.v. channel. The spooks being the hungry lions while Tav and I are less graceful versions of the gazelles. In case you've missed that program, it doesn't end well for the gazelle. I feel the urge to tell him this.

THIS NEVER ENDS WELL FOR THE GAZELLES!

I realize just how stupid that must sound to him just a little too late. In the silence that follows my statement I can practically hear the gears in his old head turn to try and riddle out my statement. He manages to wheeze out a response before I can explain myself.

What in the name of *gasp* F-Fyora *wheeze* is THAT supposed to mean?

Dunno why he's so out of breath, I'm the one lugging around 90lb. equipment. If we get out of this alive we are going to have a serious talk about splitting the equipment load.

IT'S A TRAP, TALVON, A TRAP! WE'RE RUNNING INTO A TRAP!

I dunno what annoys him more, the fact that I figured out we were running right into an ambush or that I called him by his full name. I'm kind of surprised the paranoid old sod hadn't thought of this possibility sooner. But then again I suppose if I had a snarling sewer spook riding my tail I'd be a little fear stupid too.

Oh no wait, I do have a snarling sewer spook riding on my tail.

This is why Tav and I work together though. He does all the smart making and I make the big bads regret ever crossing paths with the Paranormal Patrol. It isn't my responsibility to get us out of paranormal problems, that's what he's for. Just as I'm about to shout this fact back to him Tav's got a handful of my jumpsuit and he's dragging me down into the filthy sewer waters by it. So now I'm hot, face down in things I really don't want to think about, and I've got an angry phantom chasing after me.

But hey, at least I'm not hungry anymore.

The poltergeist flies over our heads which buys Tav the two seconds he needs to catch his second wind. I unhook the spray nozzle to my ghost goo'er just in case that S.O.B is able to do a quick turn around.

Set up a secure location while I bait our target into following me. Once it's in position you do a goop like there's no tomorrow...

The "Because if you mess this up there won't be a tomorrow" goes unsaid.

I pretend not to notice how nervous he looks and he ignores how badly the spray nozzle is shaking in my hands. We've gone up against some serious spooks before, but none of them have caught Tav so off guard before.

Tav's charged down the sewer passed me that I realize our Big Bad's been missing in action for awhile now. I mean taking into consideration the fact that it saw where we ducked down, it should have doubled back by now. I squirm a little in my hidey hole and try to convince my heart to slow down a little.

It doesn't work.

EIN!

In my time working with Tav I've discovered a few things about the man. Simple things really, like that he's not a fan of sports or he likes to put chocolate candies in his coffee.

You also come to learn that Tav doesn't raise his voice unless there's some pretty serious trouble a'brewing.

And I dunno about you, but I consider a large tidal wave of spooks and spectrals chasing after my boss as some serious trouble. The slap of Tav's feet on wet ground is the only warning I get before he's rushing past me as fast as his short legs will carry him.

ABORT! ABORT! MOVE MOVE MOVE!

Adaptability and being able to think on your feet can save your life when working in the paranormal field. It's also a skill I'm still trying to learn. But in my defense I don't think any amount of training will prepare a guy for the sight of a tidal wave made out of ghosts. There's a loud roaring sound and a blinding ocean blue light that crashes down upon my world like a tsunami.

Ow.

The momentum of that swoop flings my body into the a cement wall and I'm not gonna lie it, stung a bit. The last thing I really remember is hearing a loud crack as the slime pack on my back explodes under the sudden pressure.

Double ow.

The pack was designed to hold my ectoplasm disintegrating compound at a high pressure for optimal spraying abilities. Puncturing holes in it is like punching a nail into a can of spray paint. Not pretty, not safe, and not something you want strapped to your back.

Tav's smacking my face as I come through and I'm looking forward to the day that I can return the favor. My head's a throbbing and I'm pretty sure I'll be walking a little funny for a few days. But Tav's looking a little panicked and dripping what appears to be blue snot.

Mmmuurrr.. did we win?

Tav leans back on his heels and runs a hand through his mess of grey hair. He grimaces at the mess and wipes it off on my pant leg.

Yeah kid, we won.