Spectre Detective Agency (BEING REWRITTEN)

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖊

To understand what you're about to read, you must first understand how it came to be.

I was fourteen when I saw my first ghost. My friends and I lived on a street that was well known for the haunted house that sat nestled on the crooked corner. Of course, rumours circulated this ancient, crumbling house, but no one ever really knew the true story. Only the people involved, and they were all dead.

It was said that the father of three children went mad and flew into a jealous rage when he found out his much younger wife was seeing another man. He killed his eldest son by pushing him off the balcony. He killed his second child, his daughter, by choking her.

Perhaps the most bizarre of all murder cases was the last child.
No one knows what happened, and no coroner could figure it out.

The youngest daughter had no bruises, no sign of struggle, but yet, she was colder than ice. The cheating wife was stabbed to death thirty-three times. And the father himself hung from the rafters.

It was a dare that made my foolish fourteen year old self walk into that lonely house. After the deaths, no one would buy it, but no one wanted to tear it down, so there it sat, crumbling into ruin.

The front door had been broken and hung on its hinges, spray paint littered the walls and leaves, newspaper and rubbish swept across the floor in the light wind that blew outside.

I thought I was brave, the strongest out of my friends, and I had managed to actually walk into the house before getting frightened.

The air felt colder and tasted more stale than when I had first walked in. I had seen enough horror movies and paranormal movies to know that this wasn't natural. My skin crawled, and I could feel eyes watching me with every move I made.

The dare was simple. Go into the creepy house, take something from the kitchen, and bring it back.

I remember my feet walking across the floors, jolting at every creak the old house made. When I reached the kitchen, that's when I saw her.

She looked around my age, and she was huddled in the corner, her head buried into her knees as I heard sobbing.

Every fibre of my being told me to get the hell out of dodge, and I should've listened to that. I tried to speak to the girl but she couldn't seem to hear me.

The girl's body seemed to flicker, and that's when I stopped my advance. Almost as soon as my footsteps stopped, the girl slowly looked up.

It was her, the eldest daughter.

"Daddy? Why did you do this?"

Her voice made me wince, like a microphone going off in your ear.

My whole body was frozen in terror. How was I even supposed to respond?

"Daddy, you hurting me!"

I blinked, and then the girl was gone. Not taking any more chances, I took something from the bench and ran from the house.

For two years, I went to therapy. I believed that the girl would try and find me, looking for revenge. But it never came.

Instead of dropping the subject like my therapist suggested, I delved deeper. I read all I could on the supernatural. Spirits, ghosts, and all creatures that went bump in the night.

As I aged, I grew more and more curious. I began researching harder and going out to look for evidence. I wanted to prove I wasn't crazy.

But instead of finding answers, I found myself on the rader of the SDA. The Spectre Detective Agency. My snooping into the paranormal raised some eyebrows in the top secret government department, and finally, they sent someone to detain and interview me.

I was twenty-three and working some evidence in an old abandoned factory outside some small fishing town. It was supposed to be haunted by some sailor who died twenty years ago when the agent approached me.

It was a young woman full of smiles, and immediately, I didn't trust her. I didn't trust anyone who smiled so much.

Smiling people either knew too much or were untrustworthy with the truth. She introduced herself as Luci Mendes and struck up a conversation about the town.

She looked prim and proper, like she'd never seen a day in the mud at all. A tailored dress suit to match polished perforated white nurses' shoes. This woman turned out to be the one who taught me the ropes. The woman who taught me never to judge a book by its cover.

Yes, she was dressed nicely and smiled too much, but god damn could she hunt a ghost. Luci inducted me into the SDA, introduced me to the best investigators, and tucked me under her wing.

That was a year ago, and now, Luci Mendes has gone missing.

Her last known whereabouts was a dance school, not even a hundred and sixty kilometres away. Luci's last report came in ten days ago, and the SDA is growing worried.

They figured, since she taught me everything I know, maybe I could find her. So they pulled me off the desk, handed me a manual, and told me to have it.

I told them I didn't want to go alone, that I needed a partner. I hoped I would get someone brave, someone who would die for the job.

That's where Peter Warwick comes in.

Twenty- four, blonde hair, black rimmed horn-rimmed glasses, and a five o'clock shadow that never seemed to go away. Tall, annoying and yet the smartest guy I know.

He was good at his job, been in the field a lot more than I ha-

¸¸.•'¯'•¸¸.•..>>

"Prince, stop daydreaming!"

Blinking, I turned my head to glance at the man sitting next to me with one hand on the wheel. He held out a case file in his other hand.

"Sorry. What were you saying?" I asked as I took the file.

Peter rolled his eyes before pulling into another lane.

"I said, there's been reports of a haunting up near Esperance, and the boss wants us to check it out." He replied.

"What kind of haunting?" I asked as I flicked through the file.

"I don't know, some ghost trying to prove his ego," Peter replied as he picked up the half eaten burger that had sat nestled in his lap.

I grimaced as he bit into it, glancing at me and giving me a toothy grin. "Sure you don't want me to drive?" I asked as I watched him lovingly devour his burger.

"Quite sure, you know the rules, I drive, always," Peter replied, with a pointed look.

I glanced back at the file in my hand. "So, what's the plan?"

"The usual, we go in, we kick ass, we go for food."

"Warwick," I sighed, with a small shake of my head.

"What we always do, Prince, it doesn't really differ anymore," Peter replied.

Turning my head, I looked back out of the window of the moving vehicle. "Okay, well, wake me when we get there," I said as I leaned my forehead against the window.

"Sure thing," he said, sipping soda from his plastic cup.