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trigger warnings: slight gore, blood, descriptive language
★。／｜＼。★
CAM'S POINT OF VIEW
CAM quickly shut the door behind him as he and Lucy entered the basement. The room had a slight chill to it, but that was nothing unusual.
The ectoplasmic skull sat quietly on the table in the corner: it hadn't move at since he'd last been down.
As the two approached the jar, Lucy cast a glance sideways to him, "Do you want to or . . .?" she gestured to the small iron lever on the lid.
The boy breathed out, not removing his eyes from the visitor, "I can," he said not as confidently as he could've been.
In a quick matter of seconds he pulled the valve forward and then twisted it right, taking a step backwards next to Lucy again, feeling a chill up his spine.
Oh, this could go so wrong. He worried.
"You spoke to us," Lucy told the ghost, confusion laced in her voice, as well anxiety.
"You," it breathed out. Cam's eyes widened, "Oh you have got to be joking," he muttered.
"You. Come closer," the skull almost whispered. Cam wondered if it was any more surprised than them that they could hear it.
He took a few hesitant steps forward, glancing at Lucy who stayed back slightly.
"Thank you,"
"You can hear me," it almost sounded relieved.
"You can talk to us," Cam questioned, frowning slightly in confusion, but the anxiety hadn't left.
"No, no, no, no, no. We must be losing it Cam," the redheaded girl panicked, turning away from the ghost with her hands in her hair.
"No," it disagreed, "Finding it. I've been so lonely,"
"No, but this is an actual conversation!" Lucy exclaimed, turning around sharply to face it, "You're a Type Three!"
"Yes. So dangerous," it whispered. Cam scoffed under his breath, "Yeah we know that,"
"Not me. Them, if they find out," Cam's brow furrowed as he glanced over at Lucy and then the visitor again, "Who finds out?"
