#gtsdau

[ghost-on-my-trick-till-i]

a sneak peak of a little somethin im working on

[ghost-on-my-trick-till-i]

snip-it from my fic that made me and my friends laugh a little

The first thing i notice when i reach my new location is that it wasn't all that different from the one I had just left. It was another home. Though instead of a bedroom this was a living room. The place was nice with sensible pictures on the walls, a small couch, a matching end table, and most importantly, a phone. So Sissel must live in an apartment, on at least the second floor… The second, not as nice or pleasant, thing I notice is a dead body.

[ghost-on-my-trick-till-i]

Ghost Trick: Small Difference

Chapter two

First, next>

or you can read it on Ao3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

fic below the cut

7:31 PM

Who am I?

Why did I die?

I’m hoping that following a chain of unusual events will help me uncover these mysteries.

At the other end of the phone line is the very man that had a stranger killed.

Our meeting – it's all so sudden.

I’m not sure I'm really prepared for what's to come.

When I entered the room I immediately noticed the strange air of the room. It was furnished quite spectacularly with dozens of photos of this older man hung on the wall, all placed within extravagant frames.

“Hmm, yes… if what I read in this file is true…” The blue man I saw at the phone began. “... this man could be quite a bedevilling bit of trouble for us. He needs to be erased – tonight.” The man closes the folder in his hands. “Confound that nearsighted Jeego! His skills are as feeble as his eyesight.”

“Not to worry, sir. I have already taken the next step, sir.” a larger blue man just across the small table with a strangely metallic mask says. The large man presses some inputs on a device then vigorously slaps the device. Then a large picture frame in the centre of the room spins wildly. On the other side of the picture lies a projection screen where an image of the man in red is now displayed.

“Hmm, yes. But, i say, the last thing i ever expected was to talk to the target himself…” The old man trails off. “Even if it was only over the telephone. I must admit, my good man, it put me in quite the tizzy there for a moment!” he laughs.

What is this place? These oddly luxurious furnishings… this oddly refined music… And that odd little machine… I've never seen a room like this before.

But one thing’s for sure… these people are assassins.

And what's more… That man in red is one of their targets.

The older man reopens his file.

That file that old man has… maybe it'll give me some information on my blondie.

I make the simple movement of going to the file from the phone, but as soon as I do the older man closes it.

“Hmm, yes. How much longer my good man?” he goes on.

“We are charging up our backup power now, sir.” his compatriot answers. “The process should be complete in about thirty minutes, sir.”

“Hmm, yes…” he pauses. “But confound that Jeego, I say! Every year, his “reliable range” gets shorter and shorter! He'll get coal in his next pay envelope, confound it!”

“Or might I suggest glasses in his next envelope instead, sir?” his assistant advises.

I glance at the, now closed, file. It seems that this file contains information on that man in red. But I can't read it when it's closed.

In my frustration I trick the file to see if I'm able to open it. To my surprise, and the old mans, it works and the file opens.

“Great Scott! D-Did you see that?” The old man jumps. “The file.. I say! The file reared up and snapped at me, my good man! Nearly bit my head off!”

“Not to worry sir,” the assistant replies without any emotion. “I've already seen to it that the target, Mister Yomiel, is no longer a threat, sir.”

“Bah! That isn't what I'm talking about man!” the old man exclaimed. 

Hmm, “Yomiel” eh? So that's his name is it? But this file… it's like it's written in a foreign language. I can't read it at all.

“Might I suggest putting the file away and relaxing, sir?” the assistant encourages.

Without responding, the old man snaps the file closed and the other types into his device, then slaps it just like before.

One of the paintings in the room flips around to relieve the fact that it holds a filing cabinet on the other side. The filing cabinet follows a path downwards to the old man and opens a drawer automatically. The old man extends his arm back and drops the file in the cabinet, in which it then retracts to its original position in the wall.

The assistant files more inputs into his device and slaps it, then the projector screen flips back into being a painting. Then the table flips over and I hear the phone fall below, and now on the table rests a bowl of fruits.

“You have a very important job ahead of you tonight, sir,” the assistant reminded. The older man sits back and grabs a patch of green grapes from the fruit bowl, and eats them.

Darn… the phone and I got set away so neatly, but to vastly different locations. How am I supposed to get back now? The only thing I've learnt is the name “Yomiel”

This is such a weird room. I've travelled through the phone line to get here, but where exactly is “here”? And who exactly are these people?

I enter the ghost world to take in my surroundings, and figure out how to get out of this strange place. I move to a nearby lamp then onto the projector. There's another lamp on the other side of the projector but it doesn't lead to anything.

Since it's the only thing I'm able to do, I trick the projector. The picture flips like it had done before and the image of Yomiel reappears onscreen.

“Egad, man! Are you trying to give me a case of the vapours?!” the old man gasps.

“My apologies, sir. But I did not touch it, sir.” the bigger man responds. “It appears that the equipment is still malfunctioning, sir.”

“Bah! Granted, technology is a convenient thing. But our use of it is just plain “off”, confound it!” the old man exclaims. “Hmm, yes… in any case… I don't wish to see the face of our current target, my good man.”

“As you wish, sir. In that case, might I suggest this, sir?” the large man says as he inputs into his device once again, ending with a hearty slap like usual.

The image on the screen changes from Yomiel to a woman I don't recognise. She dawns royal blue hair in two, triangular, buns, with a large bang on one side. Her outfit consists of a yellow tank top, a sleeveless jacket, and rolled up jeans. Underneath this all she wears some sort of slightly transparent, skin tight, bodysuit, that was ripped in many places. The entire outfit seems rather impractical to me.

“Hmm, yes… Sissel…” the old man says, thoughtfully.

“If everything goes according to plan tonight, we will have the power to change the world, sir.” the assistant says.

“Hmm, yes… it's a very important night, indeed, my good man. We can't afford to make mistakes.” the old man smirks. “And that's why we must get a hold of that Sissel… We must be very careful.”

Sissel… that must be this woman's name. Both of these names do seem strangely familiar, but from where? Did I know these people?

A “plan” huh? What could that be all about? Just what exactly are these men up to?

The assistant once again types on his device, ending it with yet another slap, and the projector gets put away.

“We are completely prepared for tonight, sir” the assistant says to his superior. Said superior continues eating his grapes.

“Hmm, yes… Now all we have to do is pluck the fruit of success!” he laughs.

One thing is clear, these villains are up to something. And another thing. There seems to be some sort of connection between these two people, “Yomiel” and “Sissel”. Why else would both of their names come up like this?

Now, I need to think of a way out of here. Most importantly I need to find a way to get the phone back up here, I'm stranded without it.

I know that if I trick the projector I can turn on the screen, but does that help me at all?

I decide to trick it again, to see if I can find an opening at all. The projector spins around again and turns on, bringing back the picture of Yomiel.

“Where is your head, man? I told you I don't wish to see this face!” the superior exclaims.

“My apologies, sir. It appears to be another malfunction, sir.”

“Well get it fixed, man, unless you want to see me malfunction!” the old man exclaims, emphasising “me”.

“Certainly, sir.” the assistant says as he re-inputs into his device, ending with the usual slap, and everything goes back into place.

I could’ve sworn I saw an opening there… I enter the ghost world again and take a good look at the cores around me.

Of course! The bottom of the projector screen has a jewel in it. If I enter that while it's spinning I could hop onto it and be put at the bottom!

I trick the projector once more, but this time I ghost into the jewel in the projector before it stops spinning. Now that I've reached the bottom I have a few more things to interact with.

“I say, this room is giving me the heebie-jeebies, my good man!” the old man says. “With the painting spinning around and the like! It's enough to give a man the jitters!”

“My apologies, sir. The room was just completed recently, sir. We are still trying to iron out the kinks, sir.” his assistant responds.

I look around to see what I can interact with now that I couldn't before. It's not much, just the fruit bowl and the device. I go to the fruit to see if there's anything I can do with it, nothing. That console that the assistant is always typing away at must do something though.

I move over to the console and trick it, hoping for something of use to happen, considering I don't know how the thing works at all.

To my delight, the console flips the table around again, bringing the phone back. Finally! My exit out of this weird room!

“It's a miserable state of affairs when I get startled by a telephone that doesn't even ring!” the old man exclaimed. 

Mere seconds later, the phone rings.

“Egad!” the old man gasped. “It's even more pathetic to be startled by the same telephone twice!”

“The problem must be solved, sir.” the assistant stated. “The “Mister Yomiel” problem, sir…”

What?! Yomiel?!

“Hmm, yes…” he pauses. “You did mention taking the “next step” a moment ago, didn't you, my good man?”

“Yes, sir. I sent “One Step Ahead” Tengo to his apartment, sir.” the assistant answers. “That telephone call must be him reporting in, sir.”

“Very good, very good!” the old man hummed, while picking up the phone.

Yomiel is in danger again!

I quickly enter the ghost world and head to the phone, this seems like an important conversation to be listening too.

“This is “One Step Ahead” Tengo.” a hitman that looks very similar to Jeego, says.

“And? Out with it man! Have you taken care of him?” the old man demands.

“No, he's on the bottom level of the junkyard.”

“What..?”

“It only stands to reason.” Tengo says. “They wouldn't call me “One Step Ahead” if I wasn't prepared to take him out before he was even in the right place.”

“I don't get it… but in any case, man, once you've done your job-”

“Then you'll promote me to head of the hitman division..?” Tengo cuts him off.

“No, man! Now you're even getting “one step ahead” of me!” the old man exclaims.

“We can discuss my new salary later.”

“Great Scott! Now you're even getting one step ahead of your last one step ahead!”

“I'll get back to my job now, sir.” Tengo says.

“Confound it! You're even hanging up one step ahead!”

Tengo hangs up and the old man puts the receiver down.

“What did he say, sir?” the assistant asks.

“He asked me to raise his salary.” the old man grumbles.

“What will you do, sir?”

“Maybe I'll give him some of Nearsighted Jeegos pay.”

Yomiel… I can't lose him! He's my only lead if I ever hope to solve this mystery of me!

I trick the phone and quickly go to the location the hitman called from, somewhere in the junkyard presumably, but it wasn't a place I recognised.

At the junkyard I'm now in a building I haven't seen before. The place is full of sciencey looking things that I can't even begin to imagine what they do. 

There's doors on both sides of the room, the hitman walks over to the door on the left and leaves.

Taking a look at the cores around the place, it doesn't look like I have any way to follow him.

Instead I used the phone to get to the lower part of the junkyard, where I had left Yomiel.

Yomiel was now sitting on a broken couch that was amidst a bunch of other garbage. 

“Is it possible that..? No, that wouldn't happen so suddenly.” Yomiel appears to be theoriesing about something, but I'm not sure what.

Yomiel continues thinking to himself until he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs. He jumps up from the seat and stands in a cautious way.

Maybe it's that assassin that was here to kill Yomiel?!

I look over to see someone who is very much not the assassin I saw earlier. He's old and short and most noticeably he has a pigeon resting on his head.

“You don't look like the type to be rummaging around here.” the pigeon man says. “What's a guy like you doing here at the junkyard?”

“I was sent an anonymous note to meet someone here. They said they had important information about something I'm looking into.” Yomiel answers.

“Something you're looking into? You a detective or something?”

“No, it's just a personal situation I suppose. But I have a feeling that whoever sent that note isn't coming.”

“A man like you is quite striking. I swear I've seen you somewhere before” the pigeon man mentions.

“I was on the news a lot some ten years ago. Probably from that.” Yomiel answers.

“Ah yes, it's coming back to me. You're that criminal from Temsik park.”

Criminal..? Yomiel’s a criminal?

“Hey, I've done my time and I'm past that now. In fact I work for the police.”

Yomiel works for the police? What an interesting guy.

“I don't care about that sorta stuff. I only remember that day because that's when that meteorite fell.” the pigeon man mentions.

“The meteorite? You know about that?” Yomiel asks, slightly shocked.

“I'm retired, and I spend my free time looking into that” the pigeon man answers.

“What a coincidence, I'm also looking into the meteorite.”

“You a scientist?” the pigeon man asks.

“Something like that.” Yomiel smirks.

“You said you worked with the police right?”

“Correct.”

“Eh, you're probably trust worthy enough. Come up to my office and I'll tell you what I know about the meteorite.” pigeon man offers.

“I like the sound of that.” Yomiel says as he leaves up the stairs with the old man.

In an attempt to follow them I follow the same path I did to get to the upper level before. I hop to the ladder, to the tire, to the mannequin, to the blender, to the fan, to the flag. I see the duo walking above me but I realise that there's no way into the building from out here. 

I wonder if the pigeon man's office is the room I saw the hitman in earlier?

I return to the phone and travel over to the room I was in earlier.

When I get there, nobody's here. I probably just got here quicker than them. So I decide to wait it out a bit.

As expected, both the pigeon man and Yomiel walk in. 

So this is the pigeon man's office. All these machines must be for investigating the meteorite they were talking about. Despite that, I still can't imagine what any of the machines do.

The pigeon man and Yomiel walk forward and just as Yomiel is walking by the window…

BANG!

Yomiel falls down to the ground. The pigeon man does nothing but stand in, presumably in shock but he doesn't express much on his face.

Shoot! I was trying to prevent that from happening! To be completely honest I got so caught up in their conversation I forgot what I was here for.

I quickly move over to Yomiels body. Hopefully I'll be able to save him.

“Well that was unexpected.” I hear the pigeon man say just before I enter Yomiels core.

I enter his core and I see his remaining soul bobbing peacefully. 

“Are you awake?” I ask. The lamp told me that it usually takes a while before souls gain consciousness so I didn't expect an answer.

“Who's there..?” the soul answers.

I say nothing, I'm shocked I even got a response.

“Who are you?” the soul asks. “Don't ignore me like that.”

“Eh? Sorry, I'm not used to talking with the dead.” I respond.

“Dead? So I'm dead. That's unfortunate.” he says.

Personally, I'd describe being dead as more than “unfortunate”.

“You don't know what my life was like.”

“Eh?! How did you..?” I cry out.

“Though, to be fair, I don't know what my life was like either. I can't seem to recall a thing.” 

“Ah… the newly dead tend to not remember anything. I still don't. But your name is Yomiel if that helps.” I tell him.

“Yomiel, huh?” he pauses for a moment before the small blue soul in front of me transforms into the man in red. “I'm assuming this is me then. No other dead bodys around here for me to be.”

“That's right…”

“That really is unfortunate, I can't remember why but I know that me dying really isn't good.” Yomiel sighs.

“You also work for the police, if what I've heard is true.” I tell him.

“The police? That feels a bit odd, but I don't have any reason not to trust you.” he pauses. “Maybe I got killed because of my involvement with the police.”

“You seem to have been killed because of some sort of involvement, but in what way I'm unsure.” I tell him.

“What a weird way of putting it.”

“I’m still figuring things out, I don't know a lot but I'm telling you what I do know.” I say.

“Figuring it out? Are you some sort of detective or something?” he asks me.

“I wish I knew, I haven't regained my memories at all.” I tell him.

“Is that why you're a little blue thing instead of an actual person? It's a little weird to talk to something so clearly incorporeal.” he asks.

I'm just going to pretend I know what that means. “Yeah that's why.”

“Incorporeal means not physical.”

What? Can he read my thoughts?

“You seem to be thinking really loudly, I'm afraid.” Yomiel chuckles.

Shoot! 

“Maybe you should just stick to speaking out loud if you don't want anyone to hear your thoughts.” he suggests.

“The Lamp didn't say anything about this…” I mumble.

“Lamp?” 

“Let's just move on…” I begin. “I'm here to save you.''

“Save me? But I'm already dead.” Yomiel says, confused.

“Yes, but I have powers if the dead, and one of my powers is to go back four minutes before someone's death.” I state.

“Go back four minutes..? Interesting…” Yomiel trails off.

“And I'm going to use those four minutes to save you.” I assure him.

“Well get to it. I don't want to be dead any longer than I have to.”

“Right, let's go…”

Once again the world warps around me as I go back into the past, four minutes before Yomiels death.

The image of the junkyard comes into view as I witness Yomiels last four minutes, for the second time today.

I watch Yomiel descend the metal staircase of the junkyard.

He continues forward. “What is going on? I can't help but feel that there's something more sinister happening. Even before that hitman tried to kill me there was-”

The man was then cut off by the ringing of the phone nearby.

Curiously, it seems that he was just about to talk to that old man on the phone just four minutes before his death. I guess I wasn't gone for long at all.

“Who'd be calling the junkyard at this time?” the man asks aloud, but this time I know exactly who's calling.

Yomiel walks over to the phone to answer the call. There's a few slight moments before Yomiel speaks again.

“What a familiar accent. I just heard someone with the same one.” Yomiel remarks.

Unsurprisingly, it's going exactly as I remember it, other than the fact that I can't hear what that old man is saying.

“Whoever that was must be the one who wants me dead. How curious, what possible business could foreigners have with my life?” Yomiel puzzles before returning the receiver to its home. 

At this point I had left the junkyard to that weirdly refined room, so everything after this is brand new to me.

Yomiel walks away from the phone, towards the chair I had found him sitting in earlier.

“I was called here to the junkyard because someone claimed to have useful information, but guessing from that attempt on my life it was a trap. However, I came out of it unscathed, and the hitman was crushed beyond repair right in front of me. A most unusual turn of events indeed.” he ponders to himself. 

He seems really confused about the whole situation, not that I blame him.

“First, the crossing gate lifted, then the guitar played, after that a bicycle bell, and I could've sworn I saw the bike moving a little bit after that. Then a ladder extended unusually, finally the latch holding that wrecking ball let go." I can't see his expression clearly underneath his shades, but his furrowed eyebrows gave me all I needed.

“Most curious events indeed…” he trails off.

I looked up at the upper level of the junkyard to see if I could spot the hitman, Tengo, anywhere. Just in the corner of my vision I see a blue and black shuffling about.

Returning my attention to Yomiel, he sighs before sitting on the broken sofa. 

“Why in the world would such a helpful spirit be here? Did something die when… No, I was here and nothing of the sort happened.”

What..? Spirit? How in the world does Yomiel know that I'm a spirit?! It doesn't take a genius to figure out that something otherworldly was happening but a spirit? And said so confidently? I wish that Yomiel had his memories just so I could ask him questions!

“These powers are unlike anything I've ever seen before. But they don't seem to be particularly strong, but certainly useful in their own sense.” Yomiel continues.

Is this not his first encounter with a ghost? Maybe he’s died before and has been saved. Maybe that's why Lampy knows so much about this guy.

Yomiel picks up a miscellaneous piece of trash. “Why does this have to be happening today of all days.” he grumbles as he throws the piece of trash upwards to the upper level of the junkyard. “Talk about terrible timing.”

I glare daggers with my non-existent eyes at him. Why does it seem like he's frustrated that I'm here?! I saved his life, didn't I?!

“I guess I can't be so ungrateful, I would be dead without this mischievous little spirit.”

That's better.

“I wonder if they’re still here. If anyone's there, move something.” Yomiel prompts. 

At this point, I had already left, so nothing happens.

“Must be gone already, wonder what they’re doing.”

I must admit, I do wonder what would happen if I moved something now.

Yomiel places his hand on his chin. “Is it possible that..? No, that wouldn't happen so suddenly.” 

Those words sound familiar, this must've been around the time that I had returned.

Yomiel continues thinking to himself until he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs. He jumps up from the seat and stands in a cautious way.

The pigeon man comes walking down the staircase.

“You dont look like the type to be rummaging around here.” the pigeon man says. “What's a guy like you doing here at the junkyard?”

“I was sent an anonymous note to meet someone here. They said they had important information about something I'm looking into.” Yomiel answers.

“Something you're looking into? You a detective or something?”

“No, it's just a personal situation I suppose. But I have a feeling that whoever sent that note isn't coming.”

“A man like you is quite striking. I swear I've seen you somewhere before,” the pigeon man mentions.

“I was on the news a lot some ten years ago. Probably from that.” Yomiel answers.

“Ah yes, it's coming back to me. You're that criminal from Temsik park.”

Right, I had forgotten that Yomiel seems to be some sort of criminal. I can't imagine what crime he’d commit though.

“Hey, I've done my time and I'm past that now. In fact I work for the police.”

“I don't care about that sorta stuff. I only remember that day because that's when that meteorite fell.” the pigeon man mentions.

“The meteorite? You know about that?” Yomiel asks, slightly shocked.

“I'm retired, and I spend my free time looking into that” the pigeon man answers.

“What a coincidence, I'm also looking into the meteorite.”

“You a scientist?” the pigeon man asks.

“Something like that.” Yomiel smirks.

“You said you worked with the police right?”

“Correct.”

“Eh, you're probably trust worthy enough. Come up to my office and I'll tell you what I know about the meteorite.” pigeon man offers.

“I like the sound of that.” Yomiel says as he leaves up the stairs with the old man.

The duo walk up the staircase silently, when they get to the top of the stairs I notice Yomiel looking around suspiciously. He eyes the things that had moved earlier, like the crossing gate and the bike. 

Below me, I can hear the blender turning on, then the fan not long after.

When near the entrance to the building I witness something particularly peculiar. Yomiels gaze glides up, right where the hitman sat. Yomiels’ eyebrows raise quickly and he averts his gaze down to the ground.

Could he have seen the hitman? Why didn't he say anything? 

Then both the pigeon man and Yomiel walk in the office. 

The pigeon man and Yomiel walk forward and just as Yomiel is walking by the window…

BANG!

…

Somehow after witnessing that I'm left with more questions than I had before.

“So those are my last moments?”

“H-Huh?! You're here too?” I stutter.

“I just seemed to come with you, and you seemed so concentrated before so I didn't want to say anything.” Yomiel chuckles. “But that reaction was pretty priceless.”

“Don't scare me like that. If I was alive I think I would've had a heart attack.” I murmur.

Yomiel pauses, and a frown appears on his face. “You saw that too right?”

“Saw what?” I ask.

“I looked right at that hitman, and didn't do anything.” Yomiel clarifies.

“Ah, yes, I did see that. I also thought that was strange.”

“Now I wish I knew what was going through my mind. This was completely preventable.” Yomiel huffs.

“Well after you've been brought back to life I'm sure you'll know the answer.” I tell him.

“Get on with that saving me thing won't you?” Yomiel demands.

“Yeah I'll do that.”

I gather my will and the world begins to warp. In my vision I see the grains of sand again before everything re-materialises before me.

“The office? Aren't I downstairs?” Yomiel asks.

“Yes, but we start out where you died, it's a little inconvenient.”

“Well the hitman is outside and we are inside. You can use the phone to move around, right? Travel to the lower junkyard and we’ll have more of a chance there.” 

“Yup! Let's go!” I boast.

Did I ever tell him that I can travel through the phone?

I move from the soul to a step ladder, onto a kettle, then to a lamp, then finally I arrive at the phone.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

“It… isn't working” I mumble.

“How are we supposed to get out of here now?” Yomiel barks.

“Umm… I uh," I sputter. “I dont know.”

“Fantastic, we’re stuck here.” Yomiel grumbles.

“No, no! I'll figure something out!” I assure him.

“Maybe someone has to be using the phone to move across the line. Like how you can only get new numbers when people are using the phone.” Yomiel suggests.

Okay, I definitely didn't tell him that.

“Maybe you're on the right track here. But how can we get anyone to call the junkyard?” I ponder.

I move back down to the step ladder and see a core below the floor. I enter that and find myself in a lower room. The room is full of even more sciencey stuff than the other and papers are strewn across the walls. In the centre of the room, the pigeon man is sitting at a desk.

“There he is, maybe we can get him to call the junkyard.” I suggest.

I go up and return to the phone.

“First we need him up here.” I say.

“Maybe try to make some noise, it might lure him up here.”

“Hmm…” I think for a moment. “Oh I got an idea!”

I make my way towards the kettle, sitting on a small, portable, stove. I close the spout of the kettle.

“That’ll make some noise!” I beam.

“Heh, not bad.” Yomiel smiles.

The stove must already be pretty hot, because it only takes a few moments for the kettle to begin to whistle loudly.

“Augh, what a horrible sound” I wince.

I move down to the lower floor to see if the pigeon man has noticed, and sure enough, he's moving towards the staircase.

“Success!” I beam.

“Don't celebrate so soon. We still have to get him to call the junkyard.” Yomiel reminds me.

“Right… that might be a little trickier.”

“We might be able to use sound to our advantage again,” Yomiel says.

“Mhm,'' I hum approvingly.

I notice a paper on the wall with a core just within my reach. I travel around the room using paper and other science machines strewn about to see if I can find anything of note.

Most things in the room are not interactable, and the things that are just move in small ways. I do notice another phone just outside the door, beside the staircase, but it's just as useful as the one upstairs.

“Look down there. There's a hatch on the floor.” Yomiel points out.

“There is, but I don't see how that can help us.”

“You dense idiot, if there's a latch on the floor that means there's a lower level, there might be a lead down there.” Yomiel spells out to me.

“Oh uh, right.” I blush.

I move down and enter the hatch, sure enough, there's a lower level. Down there isn't much, a trash can, a few piles of random items, and a box. I reach out my spirit towards the box below me but it's out of reach.

“I can't reach anything down there.” I mumble in frustration. I trick the trapdoor to see if anything happens. The door then opens, but upwards, and now I'm even further from the lower level then before.

I groan and close the hatch. 

“Who's down there?!” I hear from above me.

“Looks like you got the attention of Mr. Pigeon.” Yomiel banters.

The man in question walks over to the staircase, when he reaches the stairs he hops onto the railing and slides down it. The pigeon man looks around cautiously when he enters the room.

“No ones down here?” The pigeon man hums for a bit. “Probably some teenage hooligans, I'll call the phone down there, that usually scares ‘em off.”

“Wow, I can't believe that worked.” Yomiel says in shock. Personally, I'm too shocked to say anything. Instead I silently head to the staircase and wait in the phone nearby.

It doesn't take all too long before the pigeon man calls the phone. Thankfully, Yomiel answers.

“Hello?” Yomiel asks.

The pigeon man says nothing, and hangs up immediately.

For a moment there I could feel the phone line returning to me, and I leave.

The alive Yomiel puts down the receiver. “That was weird.”

“We did it!” I cheer. “We’re in the junkyard!” Deep in my senses I feel like Yomiels fate has changed, even if it's only a little bit.

“Now to get up there.” Yomiel says.

“Don't worry, I got this!” I grin. It doesn't take long to go up the path that I had already carved for myself. But an unfortunate reality awaited me at the top.

“I moved the bike that got me up there…”I say with dread.

I return to the lower level where Yomiel is talking to himself once again.

Alive Yomiel picks up a miscellaneous piece of trash. “Why does this have to be happening today of all days.” he grumbles as he throws the piece of trash upwards to the upper level of the junkyard. “Talk about terrible timing.”

“Hey Ghosty.” Yomiel gets my attention. 

“Yeah?”

“Did that piece of trash have a core?”

“I think so.”

Yomiel says nothing, instead choosing to look directly at me.

“W-What..?” I stutter.

He continues staring at me. I think for a moment.

“Oh I could have used that to get up.”

“Good job.” Yomiel dead pans.

“I-Its okay! I can just rewind time again!” I stutter.

As I went to rewind time something felt different this time, like there are multiple points that I could rewind too. One felt further away then the other. I reached for the closer one and-

The alive Yomiel puts down the receiver. “That was weird.”

Wow! It looks like that if I change something it's marked as a place I can rewind to!

“Okay no mistakes this time.” I assure as I head straight to the piece of trash that Yomiel will throw soon.

“You're a piece of work, Ghosty.” Yomiel smirks.

“Shut it.” I pout.

A little later alive Yomiel picks up a miscellaneous piece of trash that I reside in. “Why does this have to be happening today of all days.” he grumbles as he throws the piece of trash upwards to the upper level of the junkyard. “Talk about terrible timing.” I can hear him say below me.

Quite conveniently, the piece of trash lands near the ladder from before. It looks like Tengo shuffled a lot of things around to get the perfect position so many things are moved around differently. So differently, in fact, that following a simple path I can reach the bike that's still suspended on the electrical wire.

Maybe I can startle him like I did Jeego.

Sure enough, the ring of the bell causes Tengo to react in a similar way to Jeego, and he shoots the bike. The force of the bullet causes the bike to fall to the ground.

I wince at the fall even though I can't feel pain. “Well we’re down here now I guess.”

I ring the bell again to see if Tengo will do anything different. He looks over at me but doesn't shoot.

“What's the end goal here?” Yomiel asks me.

“Huh?”

“What are we trying to do, how are we saving me?”

“I dont know.” I answer.

“We need a plan to save me, you can't just play with random things and expect it to work.” Yomiel tells me.

“Well that always worked for me before…”

“I can't believe my life is in your hands.” Yomiel pauses to think. “I have an idea”

“Great! What's your grand idea?”

“You'll have to go back again.” Yomiel tells me

“Darn.”

“And you've already messed up, rewind it Ghosty.” Yomiel demands.

“Fine.” I say as I take us back to the lower junkyard.

The alive Yomiel puts down the receiver. “That was weird.”

I dash over to the trash piece once more. And get flung up to my destination.

“Okay Yomiel whats the plan now?” I inquire.

“If ringing the bike bell causes the hitman to shoot it, which makes the bike fall, we wait to do that until me and the pigeon guy are walking by. That'll get him caught.” Yomiel explains.

“Smart.” I say. I head back to the bicycle in the same way as before and resume time. “We might be here for a while.”

Shortly after I said that the pigeon man walks out of his office and down the stairs.

Yomiel glances at me. “You look like you have something on your mind.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“A surprising amount of emotions can be conveyed on that little blue spirit.” Yomiel says. “Tell me, what's on your mind”

“It's useless” I sigh. “I have a lot of questions for you but you don't remember anything.” 

“Once this is all over I'll answer whatever questions you have. Think of it as payment for saving my life.”

In my peripheral I see Yomiel and the pigeon guy walking towards us. “Oh, here they come”

When they pass by I ring the bell of the bike as instructed and Tengo shoots it again. The bike falls and lands right beside the duo.

Both Yomiel and the pigeon man spot the hitman. Tengo points his gun at the duo but Yomiel strikes back by pulling out his own gun and pointing back at the hitman.

“You've had a gun this whole time?”

“Seems so.” Yomiel responds.

I enter the ghost world again to stop the flow of time.

“We should probably do something to help you.” I say.

“Good idea, maybe there's something around here that can make noise.” Yomiel suggests.

I hum in agreement and search the area. There's the ladder, the bike, and a bunch of other useless trash that I can't mess with at all.

“There isn't anything here.” I tell Yomiel.

“We just have to hope that things play out nicely on their own.”

I reluctantly leave the ghost world to resume time. With Yomiel and the hitman at a stand off I can't imagine it going well, but I have no choice but to trust that it will.

Yomiel and the hitman don't take their eyes off each other. Both know it'll be a fatal mistake.

The Pigeon Man uses this mutual concentration to his advantage, and kicks a piece of trash out from the bottom of the pile, causing a chain reaction like no other that ends with Tengo buried in trash.

Alive Yomiel lowers his gun. “That was a close one.”

“Must be a pretty interesting guy to have hitmen after you.” the pigeon guy says.

“I can't imagine I'm that interesting. I have no idea why they're after me.” Alive Yomiel assures.

“Whatever, just follow me to the basement, you'll be safer there, and there's a phone down there so we can call the cops.”

“Don't bother with the cops, I think he already made a run for it.” Yomiel glazes at the pile of trash the hitman was once buried in.

“If you say so Mister Strange Guy” the pigeon man shrugs.

The duo enter the office building, leaving mine and Yomiels sight.

“We did it! Your life is saved!” I cheer.

“I have to admit, that was some pretty impressive stuff.” Yomiel confesses. “You gotta stick around in case I get in any more trouble with these guys.”

“Sure thing.”

“I'm tired of being dead, let's head to the present now.” Yomiel demands of me.

“Right away.” I sigh a little.

And for the second time tonight, I've saved Yomiels life.

But none of my questions have been answered.

In matter of fact, I have more questions than I did before. But hopefully I'll get some of them answered right away.

[ghost-on-my-trick-till-i]

Ghost Trick: Small Difference

Chapter Four

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or you can read it on Ao3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

fic under the cut

8:23 PM

I’ve descended into the unknown below, hoping for an escape to follow the ever growing mystery that surrounds me and my death.

All I know at this point is that following the mysterious duo Yomiel and Sissel will lead me to my answers.

Or so I've been told.

The idea of plunging into the unknown fills me with a slight sense of discomfort, but it's not the first time I've done it and I'm sure it won't be the last.

I'm still not sure what “The Chicken Kitchen” is.

The first thing I notice when I reach my new location is that it wasn't all that different from the one I had just left. It was another home. Though instead of a bedroom this was a living room. The place was nice with sensible pictures on the walls, a small couch, a matching end table, and most importantly, a phone.

So Sissel must live in an apartment, on at least the second floor…

The second, not as nice or pleasant, thing I notice is a dead body.

It's the dead body of a woman, a nicely dressed one, wearing an elegant slim blue dress. Her hair is a soft lilac and it's tied up at the back with a warm yellow bow.

She's lying on the ground, blood seeping from what must be a gunshot wound. While I can't say I've seen one before today, though I can't say much about what I have or have not seen before, my recent experiences with gunshot wounds make me feel like I can identify one pretty easily.

Near the woman is a second, smaller little corpse. A corpse of a little doggie. The dog is quite fluffy with blonde fur. Though harder to see because of the fur, the dog also appears to have a gunshot wound.

What is with people getting shot tonight? Do people get shot this often on normal nights? And who in their right mind would shoot a little doggie?

There's no way I'm just going to let this woman and dog stay dead. I may have a mission to complete but I'm not going to let people lay around dead if I can do anything about it.

I maneuver around the room a bit and reach the body of the dead woman. I reach out to her core without hesitation.

Once again the world swirls around me in a red hue and I’m met face to face with the victim.

This is the first time I’m saving someone other than Yomiel.

The poor woman is still unconscious, and honestly it'd probably be better if she stayed that way, she doesn't need the pain of her death etched onto her subconscious. While the memories of his death don't haunt Yomiel, I'm sure it would haunt anyone with any sense of emotional availability.

“Who… who are you?”

Just my luck I suppose.

While a simple question, it's not one I can answer easily. I don't know who I am, that's the whole point of my investigation. but to not come off rude I answer to the best of my ability. “I'm just a wandering spirit here to help whoever I can.”

“Help? Am I in danger?” the woman asks.

“I wouldn't say you're currently in danger, from the looks of things the danger is gone, but you didn't come out of it unharmed.” I'm hoping to try and dodge around the fact that this woman has died, it’d still be best if she didn't know the full situation.

“You said you were a spirit, does that mean I'm dead?” 

Welp. 

“Yes, you're dead.” I say rather bluntly. Because she figured it out on her own there's no point in sugarcoating it.

“I’m… dead?” the woman falters. Had she not be a blue spirit and had eyes I'm sure there'd be tears forming.

“Unfortunately, but that's why I'm here.”

“I need to see this.” The woman pushes me out of the ghost world to take a better look at the scene. She stares wordlessly into the room in front of her.

The blue spirit drifts away and becomes the woman dead on the floor.

“Missile…” She whispers blankly, I could barely hear it.

“Missile?” I say in a confused manner. “Is that your little doggie?”

“My dog..?” She pauses. “No he was… He was always more of Kamilas dog than mine.”

“Kamila?” That's a new name. “Who's Kamila?”

“Kamila. Kamila is…” She pauses and looks around the room. “Where is Kamila?” The woman pauses once again. “Hopefully she's in bed, resting peacefully.”

“Who exactly is Kamila?” I ask.

“She's… my daughter.”

So this woman is a mother, and her daughter's name is Kamila. Though for whatever reason she isn't here. And even though the woman herself assumes that her daughter is asleep I just can't imagine that's the case. If both she and Missile had been shot, that would’ve been incredibly loud.

“Oh Kamila…” She begins to tear up. “I've failed you, I can no longer be here for you. Not even Missile can.”

Missile… that little doggie just over there. His core is within my reach, I wonder if I can talk to animals like I can people.

I decide to check out the core of the little doggie. I don't know why I'd be able to talk to him but I have the feeling that I can. 

The little blue spirit of the dog appears in front of me.

“Are you awake?” I ask.

“Awake? I've never been so awake in my life!” the doggie exclaims with boundless energy.

“I wouldn't say “life” but sure.” I think for a moment. “Say, do you remember who you are?”

“Who I am? Who I am?” The doggie stops for a second. “I'm Missile! I'm a pomeranian!”

“Missile, you can speak?” The woman says from beside me. I jumped a little, I didn't notice her.

“Miss Alma!” Missile exclaims.

Alma? That must be the name of this woman.

“Miss Alma?” She pauses. “T-That's right! My name is Alma!”

“Miss Alma!” Missile cries out. “Are we dead?”

This little doggie catches on surprisingly quickly.

“I believe so.” Alma laments.

“What? No, you can't die Miss Alma!” Missile cries out.

“I'm afraid I already have.”

“Where's Miss Kamila? She isn't dead too, right?”

“There's no other dead bodies around here.” I answer. “So probably not.”

“Thank goodness!” Missile exclaims. “If Miss Kamila died I would have double failed as your little doggie!”

“Oh Missile.” Alma smiles slightly. “There's nothing you could have done.”

“Do either of you remember how you died?” I ask. This is the most memories I've seen the dead attain on their own. Yomiel knew about as much as I did when he was dead.

“I can't remember.” Alma answers.

“Yeah! There was someone at the door and I went to say hello! And then there was a loud bang.” Missile answers.

So he remembers, but he doesn't seem to be all that good at describing.

“Do you remember what the person at the door looked like?” I ask.

“They were uhh…” Missile stops to think. “Oh! There were two people! One was really tall and the other was really short.”

“Tall and short…” Alma thinks aloud. “Oh I think it's coming back to me! They were foreigners.”

Foreigners? That's how Yomiel described the hitmen that were after him! 

“Hitmen? Yomiel?” Alma says.

So it seems Yomiel isn't the only one able to read my mind.

“Ah, Yomiel is the name of the man I had saved earlier. He was shot by hitmen.”

“Saved?” Alma looks at me confused.

Oh, it seems I haven't explained anything have I?

“Yes, I have the ability to go back in time four minutes before a person's death and save them.”

“Is that even possible? I mean going back in time is…” Alma trails off.

“Well why didn't you say so earlier?!” Missile exclaims. “We need to save Miss Alma!”

“You're not surprised about the whole “travelling back in time” thing?” I ask Missile.

“Not really!” He exclaims. “I mean Miss Alma can walk around on two legs, but I can't do that. So if she can do that… Then it's not so strange that you can walk backwards through time!”

So that's how the mind of a little doggie works.

Alma chuckles. 

“But really, using my powers of the dead I can stop these deaths from even happening. Your lives can be saved.”

“That's ridiculous. We’re already dead.” Alma insists.

“That's what the last guy said.” I say. “I can save you and I'm going to.”

“That can't be possible, going back in time isn't possible.” She insists.

“I don't understand it anymore then you do” I tell her. “And I'll prove it, let's go back four minutes before your death.

Once again the world warps impossibly as the scene in front of me changes. Alma is now sitting down on the couch and Missile is resting peacefully on the floor beside her.

Alma, however, is noticeably crying. She's quickly wiping her own tears and suppressing her sobs as much as possible.

“I can't believe it…” she cries. “After I tried so hard to fix things, everythings going to change again.”

Alma wipes her tears again and looks up. “Well… not really change in a literal sense. But things will be different.” She looks towards the phone. “It wouldn't hurt to call…”

Alma gets up from the couch and walks over to the phone. She dials a number and puts the receiver against her ear.

“Hello, it's Alma.” She speaks into the phone. “Is it possible to talk to him?”

She waits for the person on the other side of the phone to speak. “Oh,” She pauses. “Can I ask if it's going to be today?”

Her head drops as she hears the answer on the phone. “Oh, thank you for telling me.” she says meekly. “I'll speak with you tomorrow.” she says before returning the receiver to its home.

Alma sighs weakly as she returns to her spot on the couch. She holds her head in her hands and starts to sob.

The noise of it wakes Missile up, and he places himself right beside Alma's legs. He looks up sadly at his crying mistress and whines.

Alma jumps a little. “Missile, I didn't see you there.” She picks up the small dog and places him on her lap. “I'm sorry, I know you don't like seeing me sad.”

Alma pets Missile on the head and he responds by licking her on the face. “Okay you silly dog, that's enough.” Alma says as she places Missile back on the ground.

Missile doesn't move, instead choosing to sit sadly beside Alma.

Missile sits there beside Alma until a rat scurrying along the floor comes to his attention. Missile chased the rat across the floor to the other side of the room. He barks violently at the vermin before the rat makes its grand escape and turns around. Missile spins across the floor to face the rat, and the chase begins anew. This happens three more times before the rat jumps onto the couch, Missile of course follows the rat up there. 

“Missile!” Alma exclaims. “Leave the poor rat alone!”

Missile ignores the demands of Alma and continues to bark at the rat in front of him. 

“I know there's a rat there! You don't need to keep barking!” Alma yells and picks up Missile.

There's a banging from the other side of the wall. “If that mutt keeps on barking I'll knock this wall down!” a voice yells.

“Now you're getting Emma all worked up! Could you please just be quiet?” Alma begs to Missile, who refuses to stop barking.

Alma sighs and sets Missile down. “Don't move!” She commands the dog. Missile firmly plants his butt on the ground but continues barking. Alma leans down and hastily picks up the rat, trying to touch as little of it as possible. She then promptly opens the window behind the couch and tosses the rat outside.

“I need to wash my hands,” Alma gags, before leaving the room to the kitchen. At the kitchen Alma makes an effort to wash very thoroughly, not leaving any surface unwashed.

As she's drying her hands she hears Missile barking again, and soon after a gunshot can be heard from the living room. She quickly forgets about drying her hands and sprints to the living room. 

In the living room two intruders can be seen. A tall woman with bizarre hair, and a short man holding a gun, both foreigners. Not too far from the duo Missile is dead on the floor.

Alma is stunned, and doesn't move. 

“Oops, looks like there's more people here then we bargained for.” The short man grins. 

“Just get this over with,” The tall woman sighs.

“Right away my dearest beauty!” The man beams.

Not more than a second later Alma is shot.

“So there it is, the last moments of your life.” I say.

“I can't believe it. These people just broke into my house and shot me!” Alma fumes. “What reason could they have to do that?!”

“I'm not sure, but you're not the first victim to foreign hitmen.” I say. “And I don't think you'll be the last.” I remind myself that Sissel had also been named as a target, but she has yet to die.

“This is horrible,” Alma chocks out. “Why is this happening?”

“That's what I'm hoping to figure out.”

“What are we waiting for!” Exclaims Missile. “We have to save Miss Alma!”

“You’re right, let's get started.” I agree.

I will the world to warp into grains of sand, it's time to save a woman and a little doggie!

“So we really are in the past, huh?” Alma remarks.

“Yup, anything I do now has the potential to change the present.” i confirm.

“So now that we’re here, how do you go about saving us?” Alma asks. “I mean, I'm not even sure how it can be done…”

“Umm…” I hesitate.

“Oh, so you don't know either.” 

“Not really, but it'll come to me later.” I admit. “The best thing for me to do at the moment is to just mess with things until I figure it out.”

“Wonderful…” Alma deadpans.

“It's okay! I have an idea of where to start!” I try to reassure.

I hastily move from the soul of Alma over to the phone. The conversation probably won't help me with saving anyone but I have a feeling that it's important to my greater investigation.

“Oh so you're interested in this black Hello?” Missile says.

“Hello?” Alma intrigues.

“Yeah, everybody says its name when they stop it from barking!” Missile exclaims.

“He's talking about the phone. That's adorable.” Alma giggles.

“I can't believe it…” Alive Alma cries. “After I tried so hard to fix things, everythings going to change again.”

Alive Alma wipes her tears again and looks up. “Well… not really change in a literal sense. But things will be different.” She looks towards the phone. “It wouldn't hurt to call…”

Alma gets up from the couch and walks over to the phone. She dials a number and puts the receiver against her ear.

“Hello, it's Alma.” She speaks into the phone. 

On the other side of the phone, I see a police officer, calling from what looks like an office.

“Alma! This isn't when you normally call.” the Police officer remarks.

“Is it possible to talk to him?” Alma asks bluntly.

“I'm afraid not, the phone room is booked today.” the officer informs.

“Oh,” Alive Alma pauses. “Can I ask if it's going to be today?”

“I do believe it's sometime tonight, but I can't say when.”

Her head drops. “Oh, thank you for telling me.” she says meekly. “I'll speak with you tomorrow.” she says before returning the receiver to its home.

Mentally, I record the number Alma just called in my head, along with her own home number.

Alive Alma sighs weakly as she returns to her spot on the couch. She holds her head in her hands and starts to sob.

“Could I ask who you were talking about, on the phone?” I ask Alma.

“I…” She pauses. “I shouldn't say anything.”

Why does everyone refuse to tell me anything?

The noise of it wakes Missile up, and he places himself right beside Alma's legs. He looks up sadly at his crying mistress and whines.

Alma jumps a little. “Missile, I didn't see you there.” She picks up the small dog and places him on her lap. “I'm sorry, I know you don't like seeing me sad.”

Alma pets Missile on the head and he responds by licking her on the face. “Okay you silly dog, that's enough.” Alma says as she places Missile back on the ground.

Missile doesn't move, instead choosing to sit sadly beside Alma.

Missile sits there beside Alma until a rat scurrying along the floor comes to his attention. 

I watch intently, hoping to find an opening.

Missile chased the rat across the floor to the other side of the room. He barks violently at the vermin before the rat makes its grand escape and turns around. 

I depart from the phone and enter the cabinet door below me. I am able to open it. 

When the rat comes around to the cabinet I open it, tossing the rat across the floor and it hits the door.

The rat gets cornered by Missile, and doesn't move anymore. Missile stops the chase in favour to bark at it in place.

“Missile!” Alma exclaims. “Leave the poor rat alone!”

“Well something changed… not sure that it's helpful though.” I remark.

Missile ignores the demands of Alma and continues to bark at the rat in front of him. 

“I know there's a rat there! You don't need to keep barking!” Alma yells and picks up Missile.

There's a banging from the other side of the wall. “If that mutt keeps on barking I'll knock this wall down!” a voice yells. The loud banging on the wall from the other room knocks down a tall lamp on the other side of the room.

“Now you're getting Emma all worked up! Could you please just be quiet?” Alma begs to Missile, who refuses to stop barking.

“Say, do you remember anything about the woman next door?” I ask Alma.

“Umm, I think she moved in really recently, about a month ago. And I know her because she has a daughter around Kamilas age.” Alma answers.

“She's the worst! Ever since she moved in I can't partake in any of my joyous barking without her angry howling!” Missile exclaims. Those are some pretty big words from such a small doggie.

I don't think the lady next door is going to be of much help. I move around onto a conveniently placed book on the couch to reach the other side of the room. There's gotta be something of use over there.

On the other side of the room I see a nicely decorated tree, a decoration on the ceiling, a tall lamp, and another cabinet door.

Moving from the book onto the tree, I notice that there's a star on the tree with a core. I enter the star and see that it's able to be turned on. Activating the star decoration it starts playing music and spinning around, Missile starts barking louder, changing directions to face both a rat and the star.

So this is basically a Missile barking switch if I ever need him to.

Alma sighs, and with Missile still in hand, she walks over to turn the star off. 

I look up at the decoration attached to the ceiling, it's spinning around and if I time it properly I should be able to move onto it. With concentration I enter the ghost world when the decoration is closest to me. I enter the human world and let the decoration make a half rotation before reentering the ghost world again. I move from the decoration to the lamp, then from the lamp to the cabinet door.

I trick the door open, and like expected it opens. But with the rat out of commission it doesn't help me.

Maybe I should hit the rat with this door instead of the other one.

With the knowledge that there's nothing more I can do, I rewind time to the beginning.

“It seems you can try as many times as you want.” Alma remarks.

“I can, so I don't really have to worry about messing up.”

“But I do have to ask, what do you think throwing around a rat will accomplish?” she asks.

“Umm…” I hesitate. “I'll figure that out.”

When I return to the past I head straight to the cabinet door on the other side of the room. I have a little bit of waiting to do before Missile begins chasing the rat again.

“Miss Alma, why do you look so sad?” Missile asks.

“I'm not sad, I'm just thinking.” Alma answers.

“Thinking about what?” I ask

“I just don't understand what I could've done to warrant strangers to break into my house and kill me.” She answers.

“Maybe you did something you can remember at the moment?” I suggest.

“Perhaps, but this is such an extreme situation and I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”

The rat comes back, scurrying across the floor once more, with a loud Missile following not far behind it.

I focus intently on the scene in front of me, waiting for the right moment to open the door.

Right when the rat is about to pass me I trick the cabinet door, slamming it right into the rat.

The rat gets pushed forward and at a slight angle, and hits the decorated tree. The rat, sensing nowhere else to go, climbs up the tree and onto the star at the top. The rat doesn't move any further from its safe position on top of the star.

Maybe if I trick the star now it'll do something. 

I move from the door back up to the ceiling decoration, then back on the star. Tricking the star again it begins to spin and play its music. The rat feels unstable on the moving object and jumps onto the couch below, resting on the book.

“All of that just for the rat to be on the couch again. This happened before.” Alma points out.

“That is true, but Missile isn't chasing it this time, maybe that makes some sort of difference.” I say.

I move from the star directly to the book in which the rat lays on. This time I noticed that the book is interactable.

It looks like I can open the book.

So I open the book, and the rat gets sent up into the air, and lands on the cabinet on the other side of the couch. The rat, filled with fear, begins running again and doesn't really look where it's going, because it falls off the cabinet and lands on the handle of the door.

Alive Alma sighs and sets Missile down. “Don't move!” She commands the dog. Missile firmly plants his butt on the ground but continues barking. Alma reaches towards the door handle and hastily picks up the rat, trying to touch as little of it as possible. While doing so she accidentally opens the door a little bit.

“Oops, the door. It seems I didn't lock it.” Alive Alma remarks. With her free hand she turns the small knob on the door handle and locks the door. She then promptly opens the window behind the couch and tosses the rat outside.

“I need to wash my hands,” Alive Alma gags, before leaving the room to the kitchen. 

“Did that do it?” Alma asks. “All I needed to do was lock the door?”

“Let's wait it out and see if the hitmen are able to come in.” I suggest.

“I'm going to be just a little bit upset if locking the door is all it takes.” Alma sneers.

“I hope that's all it takes! I want Miss Alma to be safe!” Missile yips.

“It would be most convenient if I don't have to do anything else.” I say.

When the time came for the hitmen to enter the room, I listened closely to the door.

“Doors locked.” I hear the smaller man say.

“Then open it.” The woman demands.

“I can't pick this kind of lock.”

The woman groans. “I know that small little body of yours can't break down the door, so there's no point in trying.”

“You know I love it when you talk about me like that.” The man says with a smirk in his voice.

“Let's just wait it out, come on” the woman demands. Afterwards I hear footsteps receding into the distance.

“We did it! We saved Miss Alma!” Missile cheers.

“I can't believe that all I had to do was lock the door.” Alma pauses. “But I am glad that you were able to save me.”

“It's no problem. I have no intention of leaving anyone dead” I say.

“I really really am thankful though.” Alma tears up. “If I had stayed dead then Kamila would've been on her own and I couldn't stand that.”

“Like I said, it really is no problem!”

“I have a question!” Missile butts in.

“Huh, what is it buddy?” I question.

“You said you were able to move things because you're dead, but I've been staring at the ball that's stuck under the couch this whole time and it won't budge!” Missile exclaims.

“Well it's true that only the dead have these powers, but not all dead people.” I explain. “Only a select few get the powers of the dead it seems.”

“That's not fair!” Missile exclaims.

“That is interesting. Why do you suppose you have these powers?” Alma asks.

“I have no idea, I've only met one other person with these powers and I know as much about them as I know about myself, which is nothing.” I say.

“So you really don't remember anything?” Alma asks.

“Not a thing, that's why I'm here as a blue soul instead of whatever I look like.”

“That really is tragic.” Alma remarks. “You don't even know your name.”

“That's right, not even a name. If I didn't exist there wouldn't be much evidence that I even exist.”

“You don't have a name?!” Missile exclaims. “But everyone needs a name!”

“The closest thing I have to a name is “Ghosty”, Yomiel called me that a few times.” I say.

“Yomiel…” Alma pauses. “This isn't the first time you mentioned that guy.”

“Yomiel is the name of the man whose life I saved twice already.” I explain.

“I feel like the name is familiar but without my memories but I can't place from where.” Alma remarks.

Alma might know Yomiel? That might be my new lead if so.

“Well we can head to our new present, and you'll be back with all of your memories.” I say.

“Let's go! I want Miss Alma to be alive again!” Missile exclaims.

“What he said.” Alma agrees.

“Let's go then.” I say as I turn the clock forward, into a new present where Alma and Missile are alive. The world warps and we head off.

Back at the present, Alma has returned to the couch and Missile is happily clawing at her legs.

Looks like someones excited.

“Hey there Missile.” Alma says while picking the small dog up.

I follow the path back to the couch and enter Almas core.

Me, Missile, and Alma meet face to face again.

“You’re back!” Missile exclaims.

“Sure am,” I smile. “I came to see if you guys had the answers to the questions you've been asking now that your memories are back.”

“Yes, why we were being targeted and where I heard Yomiel from.” Alma elaborates.

“So, what's the verdict?” I ask.

“I haven't a clue why there's hitmen after us,” Alma starts. “My family has been generally quite peaceful. We haven't had any sort of incident in five years.”

“Is it possible the “incident” five years ago is the reason why?” I ask.

Alma pauses. “I highly doubt it, we were the victims in that case.”

“Hmm…” I stop to think. “Is that all that comes to mind?”

“Well, I know quite a lot of people who work for the police.” Alma mentions. “But I'd be a weird connection if the foreigners were targeting our government.”

“I'm inclined to agree with that.” I agree. “What about Yomiel?”

“Ah yes Yomiel. I know him, but not personally..” Alma starts.

“How so?” I ask.

“Well…” Alma pauses. “Yomiel got himself in a bit of trouble about ten years back, and it was at the fault of a friend of mine.”

“I know he had committed a crime about ten years back, is that what you mean?” I ask.

“Yes, he had to go to jail for about six months and he lost his job. But the whole incident wasn't really his fault so afterwards my friends worked to get him back on his feet.” Alma continues. “I believe it was around six years ago when they got him a job at the special prison.”

“So you never really knew him but knew of him from your police friends?” I ask.

“I've met the man about once or twice, but that's all.” Alma clarifies.

“Do you know of anything he and his wife could have done to get on the bad side of the hitmen?” I ask.

“His wife..? Oh yes Sissel.” She stops to think. “No, not really. Ever since he had gotten out of jail the two of them have been pretty peaceful as far as I'm aware.”

“Have you met Sissel?”

“Once, and under unfortunate circumstances. I didn't get the chance to talk to her much.” Alma answers bleakly.

“Do you know she lives directly above you?” I ask.

“She does? I didn't know that, it's probably just a coincidence.” She answers, though I feel like she's hiding something in that statement.

“This is all too weird.” I sigh. “I haven't been able to figure anything out and I've run out of leads.”

“How so?” Alma asks.

“Yomiel was nearest to my place of death, so I was hoping that if I followed him around enough that I would get some answers, but I'd lost him.” I sigh.

“Hmm, I'm sorry I can't be of much help.” Alma says.

“It's okay, I have an idea of where to go next.” I say, I've been curious about that police office ever since Alma called it, I have a feeling it could be of importance.

“Police office? Oh the special prison that I called earlier?”

“Special prison? Didn't you say Yomiel worked at the special prison?” I ask.

“Yes, it's the place.” Alma stops to think intensely. “Can I ask a request of you?”

“Sure.”

“There's someone at the prison I'm worried about, prisoner D99, if you could go to the prison and just watch over him as best as you can.” She asks of me.

“I probably won't be able to stay there long, but I can check on him.” I say.

“That'd be enough.” She says solemnly.

“Miss Alma you sound tired!” Missile exclaims. “You should get some rest!”

“It has been a long night for you,” I add. “Some rest might be good for you.”

She sighs. “You're probably right, it has been a long night.”

I exit Alma core, letting her go. She stands up.

“Thank you for everything you've done tonight.” She says before leaving the room. Missile follows her.

There's no reason to stay here any longer, so I make my way to the phone.

Just as I am about to leave the room I hear small footsteps coming closer. The sound of them is so small to be Alma, and too big to be Missile.

A head dawned with a lilac bob pokes into the room. “Mom?”

This must be Kamila, Alma's daughter.

“Has she gone to bed already?” The little girl asks herself. “I wanted to ask about all that noise earlier.”

So she did hear everything. That begs the question of why she was absent in the other reality though, doesn't it?

Just as she is about to walk away the phone begins to ring.

“I should get that,” She whispers to herself.

She walks over to the phone to answer it. Conveniently, I'm already in the phone so I'm able to listen in with ease.

“Hello?” She speaks into the receiver.

“Kamila!” A young girl cheers quietly from the other side.

“Amelie? Why are you calling so late?” Kamila asks.

Amelie pauses for a small sneeze. “It's my Papa's birthday and I wanted to go get him something, but I'm really sick and I don't want to go alone.” She answers.

“What about your mom?” Kamila asks.

“She doesn't want to talk about Papa.” Amelie answers sadly. “It should only take a few minutes! I know what I want to get him!”

Kamila stops to think. “Okay, I don't see why not.”

“Thank you!” Amelie cheers before breaking into a harsh cough. 

“You sound like you need the help.” Kamila says.

“Yeah,” Amelie admits after freeing herself from the coughing spree.

“Okay, I'll see you.” Kamila says before returning the receiver to its home. She quickly heads to the door and unlocks it, then leaves the room.

Now I'm not sure that was the best idea, because now not only is she outside but the door is unlocked again. But there's nothing I can do about either fact. All I can do is move forward and check out the prisoner Alma asked me to. But I can't help but worry for this family.

Tricking the phone, I move out of this home and into a police office, hoping to find some answers.

Tonight has already been most eventful and the more I learn the more I realise how dire the situation seems to be. I just hope that I can make it out with the answers I seek.