Ah, Hello?

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe raised his ears, as though to ask what she meant.*

“She might be right. You got all that mold and sludge on your back.”

*The dog rolled right side up.*

[ghostychildren]

“You’re so stinkyyyy!!! So dirty!!! And now we have to wash you with a SPONGE!!”

She teased the dog, putting her hands on her hips

“And a bucket of water!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog whined. Water would damage him. Kilroy patted him and shook his head to assure him otherwise.*

“But we should go home.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yes! I am very tired of this place now!”

She holds her head up high, practicing her ladylike posture as she walks out of the room

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Kilroy chuckled and followed after her. Roscoe shook as though to remove some of his grim and ran after her. He nudged her, somewhat disfiguring her proper walk, Kilroy imagined.*

“Me too.”

[ghostychildren]

She squeaked with a small startle, then smiled at Roscoe

“Silly doggy! Look, you hold your head up like this so that boys know you’re proper and confident!”

She makes an example, as if she was teaching the the dog

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Watching her, his mechanisms clicked in acknowledgement, and he tried to mirror her by raising his head and arching his back. Kilroy thought he looked like a show dog.*

[ghostychildren]

A bit of giggling

“You must have some Irish setter in you! You act quite like one, and you pose like one, too!!”

She had to hold herself back from petting. He was still gross, after all… she didn’t want yuck on her hands

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog happily wagged his tail, still happy at her tone. Kilroy sped up to join.*

“What does that mean?”

[ghostychildren]

“Well… you had him tracking… and then when he was being silly like me, he just… kind of looked like one…”

She quieted down, playing with her fingers anxiously

“…Those are the dogs my daddy said his friend used for hunting…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh. That’s fun. Don’t be embarrassed, dear. I’m not well versed in dogs. And hey, maybe he is part Irish Setter.”

*He chuckled, patting the dog’s head, seemingly not minding the dirt on his claws.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Well he’s a good boy! No way to deny that!” Don’t even have to test!!!”

She smiled at Kilroy and the dog

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked. True. Purebred or mutt, dogs were good boys. And Roscoe certainly was.*

"He's very happy you say that. Heel, Roscoe. Let's take Victoria home. Can you do that for me? Can you keep us safe?"

*The dog barked and pulled towards the front entrance again.*

[ghostychildren]

She took Kilroy’s hand, making sure to keep behind roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe raised his ears, as though to ask what she meant.*

“She might be right. You got all that mold and sludge on your back.”

*The dog rolled right side up.*

[ghostychildren]

“You’re so stinkyyyy!!! So dirty!!! And now we have to wash you with a SPONGE!!”

She teased the dog, putting her hands on her hips

“And a bucket of water!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog whined. Water would damage him. Kilroy patted him and shook his head to assure him otherwise.*

“But we should go home.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yes! I am very tired of this place now!”

She holds her head up high, practicing her ladylike posture as she walks out of the room

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Kilroy chuckled and followed after her. Roscoe shook as though to remove some of his grim and ran after her. He nudged her, somewhat disfiguring her proper walk, Kilroy imagined.*

“Me too.”

[ghostychildren]

She squeaked with a small startle, then smiled at Roscoe

“Silly doggy! Look, you hold your head up like this so that boys know you’re proper and confident!”

She makes an example, as if she was teaching the the dog

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Watching her, his mechanisms clicked in acknowledgement, and he tried to mirror her by raising his head and arching his back. Kilroy thought he looked like a show dog.*

[ghostychildren]

A bit of giggling

“You must have some Irish setter in you! You act quite like one, and you pose like one, too!!”

She had to hold herself back from petting. He was still gross, after all… she didn’t want yuck on her hands

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog happily wagged his tail, still happy at her tone. Kilroy sped up to join.*

“What does that mean?”

[ghostychildren]

“Well… you had him tracking… and then when he was being silly like me, he just… kind of looked like one…”

She quieted down, playing with her fingers anxiously

“…Those are the dogs my daddy said his friend used for hunting…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh. That’s fun. Don’t be embarrassed, dear. I’m not well versed in dogs. And hey, maybe he is part Irish Setter.”

*He chuckled, patting the dog’s head, seemingly not minding the dirt on his claws.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Well he’s a good boy! No way to deny that!” Don’t even have to test!!!”

She smiled at Kilroy and the dog

[temp-war-profiteer]

“POPSIEEEEEEEEE”

Carpophorus is home from daycare. He squeals as he runs from room to room, looking for Kilroy

@babyfromwhere

*He jumped up, not expecting the yell. He whipped around and ran to meet him halfway from his workroom.*

“My dear! There you are!”

- The War Profiteer

[babyfromwhere]

Carpophorus holds up a piece of paper to him. It’s just a bunch of scribbles

“Daddee day! Miss keen say daddee day!! Fo’ yew!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He softened his gaze and knelt down to look at it.*

“F-Father’s Day… f-for me? Oh goodness. Thank you, baby.”

[babyfromwhere]

He giggles, waiting for Kilroy to take it before bouncing up and down, flapping his arms excitedly

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took the picture and held it to his chest, before coming in to give a big kiss to his cheek.*

“C’mere, kid. My little artist.”

*He opened his arms for a hug.*

[babyfromwhere]

“YAYYYY!!!!”

He ran to hug Kilroy, squeezing him with all his baby strength

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kissed him multiple times all over his cheeks, feeling silly.*

“You’re so strong, my big boy! With these freshly molted wings. Cutie pie, you are. The best angel a dad could hope for.”

[ghostychildren]

“Eeeeheheheel”

He buried his face into Kilroy, squirming at the kisses in delight

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe raised his ears, as though to ask what she meant.*

“She might be right. You got all that mold and sludge on your back.”

*The dog rolled right side up.*

[ghostychildren]

“You’re so stinkyyyy!!! So dirty!!! And now we have to wash you with a SPONGE!!”

She teased the dog, putting her hands on her hips

“And a bucket of water!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog whined. Water would damage him. Kilroy patted him and shook his head to assure him otherwise.*

“But we should go home.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yes! I am very tired of this place now!”

She holds her head up high, practicing her ladylike posture as she walks out of the room

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Kilroy chuckled and followed after her. Roscoe shook as though to remove some of his grim and ran after her. He nudged her, somewhat disfiguring her proper walk, Kilroy imagined.*

“Me too.”

[ghostychildren]

She squeaked with a small startle, then smiled at Roscoe

“Silly doggy! Look, you hold your head up like this so that boys know you’re proper and confident!”

She makes an example, as if she was teaching the the dog

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Watching her, his mechanisms clicked in acknowledgement, and he tried to mirror her by raising his head and arching his back. Kilroy thought he looked like a show dog.*

[ghostychildren]

A bit of giggling

“You must have some Irish setter in you! You act quite like one, and you pose like one, too!!”

She had to hold herself back from petting. He was still gross, after all… she didn’t want yuck on her hands

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog happily wagged his tail, still happy at her tone. Kilroy sped up to join.*

“What does that mean?”

[ghostychildren]

“Well… you had him tracking… and then when he was being silly like me, he just… kind of looked like one…”

She quieted down, playing with her fingers anxiously

“…Those are the dogs my daddy said his friend used for hunting…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe raised his ears, as though to ask what she meant.*

“She might be right. You got all that mold and sludge on your back.”

*The dog rolled right side up.*

[ghostychildren]

“You’re so stinkyyyy!!! So dirty!!! And now we have to wash you with a SPONGE!!”

She teased the dog, putting her hands on her hips

“And a bucket of water!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog whined. Water would damage him. Kilroy patted him and shook his head to assure him otherwise.*

“But we should go home.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yes! I am very tired of this place now!”

She holds her head up high, practicing her ladylike posture as she walks out of the room

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Kilroy chuckled and followed after her. Roscoe shook as though to remove some of his grim and ran after her. He nudged her, somewhat disfiguring her proper walk, Kilroy imagined.*

“Me too.”

[ghostychildren]

She squeaked with a small startle, then smiled at Roscoe

“Silly doggy! Look, you hold your head up like this so that boys know you’re proper and confident!”

She makes an example, as if she was teaching the the dog

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Watching her, his mechanisms clicked in acknowledgement, and he tried to mirror her by raising his head and arching his back. Kilroy thought he looked like a show dog.*

[ghostychildren]

A bit of giggling

“You must have some Irish setter in you! You act quite like one, and you pose like one, too!!”

She had to hold herself back from petting. He was still gross, after all… she didn’t want yuck on her hands

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe raised his ears, as though to ask what she meant.*

“She might be right. You got all that mold and sludge on your back.”

*The dog rolled right side up.*

[ghostychildren]

“You’re so stinkyyyy!!! So dirty!!! And now we have to wash you with a SPONGE!!”

She teased the dog, putting her hands on her hips

“And a bucket of water!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog whined. Water would damage him. Kilroy patted him and shook his head to assure him otherwise.*

“But we should go home.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yes! I am very tired of this place now!”

She holds her head up high, practicing her ladylike posture as she walks out of the room

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Kilroy chuckled and followed after her. Roscoe shook as though to remove some of his grim and ran after her. He nudged her, somewhat disfiguring her proper walk, Kilroy imagined.*

“Me too.”

[ghostychildren]

She squeaked with a small startle, then smiled at Roscoe

“Silly doggy! Look, you hold your head up like this so that boys know you’re proper and confident!”

She makes an example, as if she was teaching the the dog

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe raised his ears, as though to ask what she meant.*

“She might be right. You got all that mold and sludge on your back.”

*The dog rolled right side up.*

[ghostychildren]

“You’re so stinkyyyy!!! So dirty!!! And now we have to wash you with a SPONGE!!”

She teased the dog, putting her hands on her hips

“And a bucket of water!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog whined. Water would damage him. Kilroy patted him and shook his head to assure him otherwise.*

“But we should go home.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yes! I am very tired of this place now!”

She holds her head up high, practicing her ladylike posture as she walks out of the room

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe raised his ears, as though to ask what she meant.*

“She might be right. You got all that mold and sludge on your back.”

*The dog rolled right side up.*

[ghostychildren]

“You’re so stinkyyyy!!! So dirty!!! And now we have to wash you with a SPONGE!!”

She teased the dog, putting her hands on her hips

“And a bucket of water!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*His tail wagged around, slapping around at Kilroy’s legs. The dog stretched into her pets and rolled over onto the dirty ground.*

“Oh goodness…”

[ghostychildren]

More giggling. She was much happier knowing her body was with her family. Abruptly, she pulled her hands away from Roscoe, still smiling

“Ah! Dirty doggy! Now you need a batthhhhh! Stinkyyyy!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Well, you made friends with this little pup.”

*He patted Roscoe’s head.*

“Jokes aside, of course, dear. You can do all things, just the same.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled, giving Roscoe some more rough pets

“Who’s a good boy!! Who is it??? You! You are! The best boy!!!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried. Maybe I just don’t look in a mirror too often.”

*He chuckled.*

“Hm. But, we can work on making things easier for you.”

[ghostychildren]

“I’d like that very much! Can you still make friends as a ghost? I hope so. I want to have friends, you know!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I’m sure he did. I wish we could find some record of his… Like his signature, so that you could have a piece of him…”

*He pondered, taking the angry letter as the best next thing.*

“What now, my dear? How do you feel? I know that… being dead had raised some distressing symptoms.”

[ghostychildren]

“Yeah… touching things is harder now. And I keep forgetting to breathe. Did you know you go invisible if you forget to breathe???”

She tapped her chin in thought

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He fingered through the letters, finding it interesting that families were discontent. Of course it made sense, but he had the foolish impression that they didn’t care what happened to the girls.*

“Hm…”

*He found it unfortunately ironic that this suing likely led to the inability for these ghosts to know what happened to them. Bankruptcy was revenge, but it was also the final wound for the girls. To die and wake in a decrepit place, unloved and abandoned. Maybe if it functioned just a little longer, they would have been able to return home.*

“I think your dad came here in person to collect you.”

[ghostychildren]

“Oh, good.! Daddy probably put me on our family plot, then!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Ooh, rough pets. That was new for the dog. He let out an eager bark. Kilroy chuckled as he was being pulling. It was nice to find some levity in the dreary place; and hope for the little girl.*

[ghostychildren]

“Let’s go, let’s go!!!”

There were a few offices. But luck was on their side, because the first filing cabinet had s folder in one of its drawers

Inside was a scathing letter written to the asylum. About “how could you let this happen, for the amount I paid, etc”. There were more letters in the folder, too. One very angry letter, saying that the asylum “better not bury his daughter in their pathetic little graveyard” and that he was not only coming to collect her, but he was going to “sue the asylum into bankruptcy”.

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Perfect. Sounds like an easier place to explore than here. Let’s go.”

*He whistled for Roscoe to turn this ship around and bring them out of the morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

She excitedly ran towards the little dog, petting him roughly and then going back to Kilroy and pulling him after Roscoe

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her and returned the soft smile. She was doing quite well with all this.*

“Ah! Maybe they do. Would that be in the offices?”

[ghostychildren]

“…maybe.! I never went in there…. But they’re on the first floor.!”

She squeezed his hands, becoming a little more excited at the prospect of her body being where she wanted it to be

[temp-war-profiteer]

“…it looks so much dirtier from the outside…”

Victoria shrinks down a bit, clutching Kilroy’s hand tighter as she looks up at the decrepit asylum.

“…I didn’t realize it was this bad…”

@ghostychildren

*At her fear, Roscoe pawed her. Following their plans for the body recovery, Roscoe was accompanying the two of them to sniff around. Kilroy took a breath and let her squeeze him.*

“Yeah? I suppose nobody has been cleaning it… Are you ready?”

- The War Profiteer

[ghostychildren]

“…Not really…”

If they found her body… then that meant she was dead for sure… she didn’t want that. She wanted to be in denial. It was so much easier not knowing…

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He looked down at her with a frown.*

“Yeah… That makes sense.”

*Roscoe barked.*

“I’ll… try to… Well, I’ll do the searching, ok, dear?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I can tell you where things are, if you need help…. I… was here for a while.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Thank you, dear. That’s more than I can ask for. Roscoe stay close to Victoria.”

*He stepped up to the door to start this frightful mission.*

[ghostychildren]

“…perhaps they sent me home… that would be nice, at least. Then my family could have seen me after I died. Even if I hadn’t known…”

She pat Roscoe anxiously, trying to soothe herself despite speaking to the dog

“It’ll be okay, puppy…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe wagged his tail and licked her hand. Kilroy perked up.*

“Oh. That would be great news. If we don’t find you here, then we know that your family got to love you one more time.”

*He braced his shoulders to bash into the door and open it.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Is it stuck?”

She saw him bracing

“…Did you have much trouble getting inside last time..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He blinked.*

“Not… really… I just thought it would be easier than…”

*He un-tensed and just went for the handle.*

[ghostychildren]

“..I… do not want you to hurt yourself.. that is all.”

She steps inside, glancing around

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That’s v-very nice of you.”

*He went on his belt to unclip his flashlight. Hopefully that would make the search easier.*

“Well, you weren’t in the isolation room. Did you have a bedroom here?”

[ghostychildren]

“….I… did, yes… I didn’t use it much… it was upstairs…”

She glanced downward.

“The third floor…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Ah. I see. Thank you, dear. I can… go on ahead and you can stay with Roscoe if that would be better for you. I know this is hard.”

*He shined the light towards the staircase to illuminate the way.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Can I be in the middle? I don’t wanna be front or back…”

She gently pet Roscoe again, before playing with her dress

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Roger that, Miss. Roscoe? Take the rear.”

*The dog slowed down to stay behind Victoria. Kilroy smiled once he got there, and gave her hand another squeeze.*

[ghostychildren]

She squeezed back, closing her eyes a bit

“…The first and third floors have bedrooms… the second floor has all the treatments.. The ones they can’t do in your room… I did not like them very much…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. That made more sense why she seemed so afraid.*

“You can close your eyes on that floor. I’ll lead you safely up. You don’t need to remember it…”

*He put his foot up on the first step, one of the many in their grueling journey.*

[ghostychildren]

“…Okay…”

She held tighter, whimpering as she shut her eyes to the point her eyelashes could get tangled

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Good job.”

*He whispered back, and began to scale the stairs up to the first landing, somewhat wondering what it would look like.*

[ghostychildren]

A narrow hallway, doors going down while a few straight jackets are hanging up or littering the hallway floor. White on white, with little accents of mold.

“…Before I woke back up in isolation…. I was having rotational therapy up here…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned, his eyes darting to take in all of it before they’d go up higher.*

“Rotational… Were the kids here known to hurt themselves? Other people?”

*He tried not to shine his flashlight down the hallway. It felt rude… and he was afraid of seeing something or someone in the hall.*

[ghostychildren]

“Some of them.. I think I heard the doctors say it… was mostly for mania…? I didn’t know what they meant… it wasn’t fun… I hated being spun around like that….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He glanced back to her and to the hallway.*

“I don’t think they knew what that meant either. Let’s keep going…”

*He thought about these poor girls… He usually wasn’t violent when he was manic. Perhaps self-destructive, that was true. But these children likely just wanted to escape.*

“They put you in one too?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm. You get put in a chair that’s in the air, and they spin it and spin it until you get so dizzy you pass out.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused and turned around fully to face her.*

“What the Hell are you talking about?”

*Roscoe barked at Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

“…It’s… supposed to calm you down..”

She bit her bottom lip, opening her eyes to finally face him and the room

“…you go in the chair and they spin you so you pass out, and your supposed to be calmer, I think… I think the doctors had books about it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed. He didn’t mean to sound rude. He just couldn’t believe it.*

“I’m very sorry. That’s not pleasant.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Well it certainly felt less than pleasant…”

She fidgets, glancing down the hall.

“I can show you, if you want… but you have to hold my hand.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He certainly didn’t expect the offer. And it wasn’t necessarily apparent to their mission, but he supposed that her body technically could be there. Besides, more than the mission, it was important because she was being brave.*

“Of course. We can see it, if it would make you feel better, for me to understand what you saw.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If you want to. I don’t mind…”

She held out her hand for him

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He took it firmly, and finally shined the flashlight down that hallway.*

“Let’s do this…”

*He seemed to hype himself up.*

[ghostychildren]

She sniffled, squeezing and holding on tightly to him, and then on her other hand holding onto Roscoe.

“…um… I can tell you whatever you wanna know— b- but only if I know… daddy told the people that they weren’t allowed to do some stuff to me, because he was paying more money for it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The three of them walked in a line into the hallway. Kilroy scanned up and down the walls to get a better picture. It was so quiet in here.*

“Yeah?… He did? Hm. That’s strange… Considerate, I suppose?”

[ghostychildren]

“Mhm!! I love my daddy….”

She giggled

“He said it was because I was better than a lot of— even most of— the other girls.!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“I don’t doubt that. You’re very nice. I’m glad you liked him. I liked my dad too.”

[ghostychildren]

“Daddy’s are very nice, you know!!”

She squeezes tighter as they pass a room with the door open, a medical table of some kind, it seems.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He hesitated, peeking his head in the room, wondering what it was. It didn’t seem like that was the room they were stopping in, but it was interesting.*

“They are, aren’t they? They’re very nice, and strong. Teach you how to be brave and smart. Moms… just are there to make you self conscious.”

[ghostychildren]

“And tell you that you’re not acting right…”

She squeezed

“Not nice…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“No…”

*He frowned.*

“But you’re nice.”

*He changed it to a smile.*

“What’s in this room, do you know?”

[ghostychildren]

“This one…? Um— I’m not fully sure…. Girls went in there… um- and they never came out right.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*That made him go cold. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and run away from it.*

“Oh. L-Let’s g-go, then. No n-need to be t-there.”

[ghostychildren]

“…okay.”

She whimpered

Kilroy kicked something, it skidded across the floor

An orbitoclast

[temp-war-profiteer]

“EEK!”

*He yelped, jumping in place and nearly dropping his flashlight. Roscoe growled and sniffed after the thing. Kilroy slowly approached, seeing that it wasn’t alive for Roscoe to hunt.*

“Ice pick…”

*He scowled at the sight. It reminded him of poor Wren who died at the hands of such a thing. He remembered how much they tried to ease her pain with bandages and pulling at it. Bad memories.*

[ghostychildren]

“…oh. Then… that’s…. Why…?”

That’s why the girls were all different…

“…yucky.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“D-Don’t worry about that, M-Miss… You don’t need to know what this is. It c-can’t hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. They took Wren for this, didn’t they?”

*He snapped his fingers at Roscoe.*

“Take it. So we can melt it down.”

*The dog wrapped its tendriling probes around the pick, to collect it as a sample. Like a spider, it wrapped it in tissues. Roscoe learned that from Kilroy.*

[ghostychildren]

She stared.

“Oh… that’s… something…”

She closed her eyes again and kept walking

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Mm… Good job, Miss.”

*His tone was gruffer, not like how he talked to children. For that brief moment, his authoritative anger showed. He took a breath once the dog put the pick away.*

“…Tell me when we get to the ‘spinning’ room.”

[ghostychildren]

“It’s on the left… you’ll know because the room is bigger…”

Indeed, there was a door, and then the rest of the hall. No other doors to indicate more rooms.

Inside is a few bookshelves, a clipboard, and the impossible-to-miss large mechanization in the middle of the room. A chair suspended above the ground, connected to a hook in the ceiling, which had a rotational piece connected to some more machinery.

“….This is where they did it….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*As they stepped inside, he shook his head. He couldn’t believe it was real. Roscoe, already focusing on recon, looked at the bookshelf for the book she claimed supported the doctors’ practice.*

“Looks like it. Centripetal force machines… Gosh. I hope this never killed anybody.”

[ghostychildren]

Practical Observations on Insanity, By Joseph Mason Cox

“You sit in the chair, and they spin you around. They said it made you more docile….. they usually only did it to me when I was wound up from…… their other treatments.”

She glanced away

“This is the last place I remember being before waking up in my isolation room….”

Indeed, her scent was notable. Like she was one of the last people in there.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*The dog scanned the title and tucked it into its compartment to show Kilroy later. The man himself perked up at her claim.*

“Oh! Let’s check then.”

*He raised his flashlight, first onto the chair itself, even though it was clear she wouldn’t be here.*

[ghostychildren]

“It’s angled like that so you don’t fall out…. We had the straight jackets on, of course…”

She hesitantly walks around, playing with her fingers. She hated this room… she always believed she’d been behaving very rationally regarding her other treatments… she wished daddy hadn’t sent her to this horrible place.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He followed her, shining the flashing light into the nooks. He tried to sniff around, seeing if he could smell a body.*

“Right… You know, uh…”

*He didn’t think this was a good idea to say, so why was he saying it?*

“You’ve already got the training to be an astronaut.”

[ghostychildren]

“…What’s that?”

She turned, tilting her head slightly

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Someone that flies to space, or to places like the Moon. They experience a lot of forces, so they do centrifuge training, which is spinning.”

*It felt nice to talk about something light, despite the reality of their situation and its gravity.*

[ghostychildren]

“You can go to the moon, now? Wow….”

She thought

“Do they have moon farms? With moon cows?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled.*

“I wish we did. Not yet, dear. We haven’t been back in a long time. They stopped after the early two-thousands. But we haven’t been to the Moon since… what? The seventies? Nineteen-seventies, I mean.”

[ghostychildren]

“…..shame.”

She tried to hide her disappointment

“Oh well…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh! We’re going back though! By the thirties, I believe we’ll be doing more missions.”

*He put on a bigger smile with his hands in surrender, trying to assure her.*

“And we can watch the broadcasts together.”

[ghostychildren]

“…Do you think they’ll find the cow that jumped up there?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused a little with an ‘oh’ mouthed on his lips. So, that’s where the cow idea came from… He was glad he didn’t say anything, since he was one step away from telling her his half brained scheme in college about bringing cows to the Moon to use their methane emissions for rocket fuel… It could’ve been a good relationship for a Moon colony. Methane, meat, and milk for the small price of tons of cargo and the first agricultural developments on another terrestrial object. Eh, maybe it was good his idea was nothing more than a scribble at his dorm desk. The last thing he’d want was plants on the Moon. Wouldn’t want to ruin a sacred place with the disgusting, terrifying organism.*

*He shook his head. He was ruminating, and it made him late in his response to her.*

“Wha- Oh! Why yes, I’m sure they will find him. And the… plate and the spoon, too.”

[ghostychildren]

She giggled excitedly.

“I hope so! I think it would be very lonely to be on the moon with no cow friends!”

She hummed, skipping around the room a bit

[temp-war-profiteer]

“That it would be… Or I’m guessing. I’ve never met a cow.”

*He returned, lightheartedly, checking the last few places in the room. Hm. It was strange to be happy in a place like this. But, it certainly made checking feel less scary.*

[ghostychildren]

“And I’ve never BEEN a cow!”

She giggled again at the thought, then ran over and gave Roscoe some surprise petting, before running back over to Kilroy

The clipboard was a sign-in sheet

On the page we’re only a few names. One of them, toward the top, was Victoria Adams

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chortled. She was having what Hermes taught him was called ‘zoomies’ for the animals in the house. Roscoe was excited by the surprise. He wagged his tail and instantly panted.*

*Kilroy’s joy subsided at this discovery. He took the page off for record keeping. Now he knew her last name.*

“Hey, Victoria… When people got this treatment, where did they put them afterwards.”

[ghostychildren]

“Usually their rooms. I was in isolation a lot, rather than my room, though! Because I kept misbehaving.”

She stood on her toes, trying to see what he found

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He sighed and rubbed his face. They were in isolation. She wasn’t there. But her soul was. Should they check again.*

“I suppose we can check your room anyway.”

*He didn’t intend to show her the document, but being as short as he was, it wasn’t hard for it to be revealed by her tactics.*

[ghostychildren]

She didn’t seem to care much about it, anyway.

“And if it isn’t here, then they probably sent me back home to North Carolina!!!!

[temp-war-profiteer]

“North Carolina? That’s where you’re from?”

*He turned fully towards her. He knew this last name, and now this. That would explain the Confederacy.*

[ghostychildren]

She nods proudly

“It’s the best state EVER! Not to be mean to the other states, but daddy says it’s good to be proud of it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He chuckled a second.*

“None taken. Yeah?… Well, you guys end up having the first aeroplane. So, that’s something prideful. B-But, uh… What do you like about it there?”

[ghostychildren]

“Hm… I dunno! I like my daddy! And he says he likes it! And you like the flying machine you said! So that’s why I like it!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*She was so sweet. Always caring about other people.*

“Why thank you. I hope you can see your dad again sometime… Roscoe, can you bring us to the third floor?”

[ghostychildren]

“You got this, puppy!!!”

She giggled, running after him, upstairs were more rooms, all with 2-4 beds in them. Names written on paper, though they were decaying or missing for a lot of them. It’d been long enough that most papers weren’t in the best shape here

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked and trotted up the stairs. Kilroy lagged behind, a little tired from climbing. As they got there, he shined the light around, taking in those details.*

“You… had… roommates?” He wheezed.

[ghostychildren]

“Well, when I was in my room, yes.”

She hummed

“Her name was Noelle! She was older than I was!”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Noelle…”

*He decided to commit that name to memory, in case she was the other soul around here. He leaned over his lap to finish panting and stood up straighter to follow her to wherever her room was.*

“Oh, she was? Was she a good… role model for you? Or I suppose, get along with you?”

[ghostychildren]

“We were nice!! I liked it when we played pick up sticks together! We weren’t supposed to have them…. But Noelle hid them…”

She giggled, leaning in to tell the secret

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He smirked and nodded.*

“Oh how cheeky. She must have been clever.”

*Roscoe sniffed the floor ahead of them, scouting all of the hall they passed through.*

[ghostychildren]

The middle of the hall, to the left. The paper was faded and torn, all that was left up was “Noelle James and Vic”

Right under Victoria’s crossed out name was another scribbled in, but now long faded.

“Ta da! I got such a pretty view from the window!!! See?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Not a good sign at all… He supposed that her and Wren’s deaths were near the end of the institute’s life. This suggested otherwise. And a male name confused him. He wanted this paper too. He tie. It and tucked it away.*

“A window y-you say? Show me.”

[ghostychildren]

She skipped into the room, pointing at the window.

There were a few things sticks scattered around the floor, differently colored, likely remnants of the game Victoria had mentioned

The window overlooked a small part of the asylum’s cemetery, but mostly just outside it. There were lots of trees, and a separate smaller fenced off area

“That’s where we got to go and play outside! I learned how to make flower crowns down there!”

She hummed

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He kept his body small to not bump into anything as they came inside.*

“You played… down there?”

*He cut himself off. It wasn’t in the cemetery, per se. He supposed that wasn’t too strange.*

“What’s your favorite flower?”

*He tried to redirect, as he thought about what they were seeing. It didn’t look like much else had happened in her than what she remembered. Maybe her death was one of the last things that friend group shared.*

[ghostychildren]

“I liked daisies! They made the best crowns! But I can make them with dandelions, too!”

She giggled some more

“What about you?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“O-Oh, m-me?”

*He pointed a claw at himself, sputtering.*

“I d-don’t… Someone close to me likes lilies. That’s good enough for me.”

[ghostychildren]

“Those are pretty!”

She giggles some more, looking around the room, before staring at the beds.

“…I hope whoever was in here after me liked Noelle…! She was very nice and a good friend!”

She wasn’t up here, either. Victoria thought about where she would be, then. And she really liked one option, but absolutely hated the other. She didn’t want to go down there… The morgue. She went down there once, when she first got to the asylum. Never ran away from the doctors after that.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. It was a sad notion to consider someone taking her place, using her bed, when the girl was so vibrant and lovely. Then again, all of that sadness could be summarized simply by the fact that death was sad, and unfair.*

“Yeah… me too.”

*Roscoe barked again, after sniffing all around. He was signaling that the room was clear.*

“It looks like we have to keep going, Victoria. Is that alright? Or would you like to reminisce some more?”

[ghostychildren]

“…We can go.”

She looked down at her feet, fidgeting.

“All that’s left is… the downstairs stuff… that’s where the offices were…. And….. the um….”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He paused his gaze at the bed to look down at her. He could tell her tone changed, and he felt sympathetic, but he also took note of where she said.*

“Offices. Hm. Alright… And?”

[ghostychildren]

“…The place they keep dead bodies before burying them… it’s cold and scary…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“Oh.”

*Of course. That was the last resort… But it was more and more apparent that she would be there.*

“I think we should go there next, Victoria. I’m sorry.”

[ghostychildren]

“…If I’m not there, they probably sent me home.. a- and daddy would have buried me in our family plot… I can’t be down there… I can’t…”

She sniffles, eyes welling up with tears

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He came up to her and held her by her shoulders softly, rubbing them to try and stifle the incoming tears.*

“That w-would be great if you’re back home. You’d be with your father! Why don’t I look and I’ll come get you outside if you’re there?”

[ghostychildren]

“…What if I am..? I don’t wanna see it…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

“You don’t have to! I know it just… You wanted to know if you were alive or not. Would you believe me simply if I told you?”

[ghostychildren]

“…I think I have to by now… it’s all gone….”

She sniffled some

“…I don’t wanna be down there… I can’t be… daddy has to have my body…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned and knelt down to hug her.*

“I know, dear… I know. You’re going to be ok, w-whatever happens. I have to believe that.”

[ghostychildren]

She gives him a tight hug, nodding slightly.

“…Thank you…”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Of course."

*He took a deep breath, letting them have this last moment of respite in a hug, before they would have to journey for the body.*

"Whenever you're ready."

*He whispered, not to rush her, but to instead tell her that they had all the time in the world for this.*

[ghostychildren]

She held tight for a few more long minutes, then nodded

“…alright… I… I’m ready.”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"You're a good girl."

*He patted her back a few more times and stood up, holding her hand. He whistled for Roscoe to open the door for them and lead the charge down to this supposed morgue.*

[ghostychildren]

“…I’m a good girl… I can be brave…”

She repeated it like a mantra, squeezing his hand tighter as they walked down into the earth, past isolation and archival rooms, finally, a sign. Morgue.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He stayed quiet, perhaps listening to her mantra too, as they walked. At the sign however, he took a deep breath. Death wasn't pleasant for anyone, but the bodies in particular were a sore spot.*

"You're very brave. We're both brave."

[ghostychildren]

“We’re both brave. So brave…”

She whimpers slightly

“We’re all brave… all brave, right doggy.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*Roscoe barked. He stopped sniffing. It seemed like there were too many traces of human remains for him to get an accurate read on where Victoria would be.*

"He agrees. W-Where would the... newer bodies be?"

[ghostychildren]

“…All in there… I saw them, once…”

She whimpers, holding his hand tighter, closing her eyes as they stepped into the threshold.

An autopsy table, a cadaver rack, and a mortuary freezer.

It was creepy, but seemed… empty. For now.

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He frowned. He wished he could stop and ask her more about how she saw them, but he didn't want to keep her here long.*

"Can you look at yourself? Do you have a scar on your chest?"

*He tried to know where in this process she was, figuring that a ghost like Wren still had bodily injuries on her spirit.*

[ghostychildren]

“Um…. Don’t look.”

She turned around and pulled the front of her dress away to look at herself

“…Oh… um… yes. I do… it looks like a Y?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Oh! Of course. I'm not looking."

*He turned his head away, in combination with her turning around. Roscoe covered his face with his tail's fluff, mirroring whatever his master was doing.*

"I see. Thank you, dear."

*He realized that she could still be on the table... but with a scar, it was unlikely that they wouldn't already take her to storage.*

"We should look at the freezer, I believe."

[ghostychildren]

“Okay.”

She hurried back to Kilroy’s side.

Numerous toe tags riddled the floor. All roughly the same age, it seemed. One of them had a familiar name on it

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He bent down to read it. He was initially distracted by the details of her age and weight, but the cause of death made him pause. He sighed. It was that god damn spinner, wasn't it? His anger made him memorize the names of the director and physician, even though he would be unable to hunt them. They were already long dead.*

"Victoria... I see your tag. You're here, dear."

[ghostychildren]

She whimpered a bit.

“…So daddy never got my body..?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He gritted his teeth in a grimace.*

"It says that they ordered to contact your family. M-Maybe they were doing that?... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ghostychildren]

Another whimper. She grabs onto Kilroy and hides her face, standing there, before looking up

“…Will you check.?”

[temp-war-profiteer]

*He cradled the back of her head, still looking down at the tag.*

"Yeah, baby... I'll check."

*He said flatly.*

[ghostychildren]

She wipes her eyes a bit, fidgeting and trying not to look.

All the freezers are empty. They still smell of death, but it’s old, only lingering because they were closed.

The racks and table are empty, too. The place seems to have been practically cleaned out

[temp-war-profiteer]

"Goddammit... Hm. Well, I don't see anything in here, Victoria. No bodies, at all. Maybe your tag fell off. I think they might have sent your body after all."

*That would be good news, he supposed. He wished, however, he knew where to go to help. And it was always easier for the two ghosts before Victoria when he had a body in the same state.*

[ghostychildren]

“…W-Well… if you think daddy got it…”

She wipes her eyes, smiling slightly

“Oh.! M— maybe they have record of it.!”