It was a dark and stormy night. Rain pattered on the roof of the old mansion, water tinkling as it fell through an old and cracking downspout. Every so often, lightning would flash, revealing the silhouettes of two men, as they stood before the entrance. Dripping and soggy, Johnny Ghost, Paranormal Investigator Extraordinaire pulled a flashlight from his messenger pack. He flicked it on, bathing his partner in a pool of light. Johnny Toast reacted quickly, shielding his eyes with his arm.

"You, ready?", Ghost asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be, sir," replied the man in a thick British accent, "Shall we go?" Ghost nodded, heart thumping in his chest. He slowly opened the rusty door, hinges creaking. The investigators were on their tenth case since they had founded the Paranormal Investigators Extraordinaire, or P.I.E for short. So far, this was their most risky case yet. Apparently, a few months ago, a strong paranormal entity had killed an entire family, including a young boy. And there were still claims of strange activity near the house. Sometimes, people swore they could hear windows breaking, or see a strange box-shaped figure staring at them from behind the shed. And P.I.E wasn't just going to let the matter be. Tonight, Ghost and Toast were alone. Usually the rest of their team, Katrina, William Barricade, Dark Pit, Johnny Roast, and Johnny Boast accompanied them. But they had decided that the others should stay behind, as to not attract too much attention from a murderous ghost. Now, looking inside, Ghost carefully observed the front hall before them. The walls and rugs were decorated with old-fashioned patterns. Old paintings, and family photos seemed to clutter the shelves, and walls. They showed only shadows of a happy family. Only broken memories. Old wooden stairs could be seen down a long, dark hallway. There was a light switch by the door, but when Ghost flicked it, nothing happened. He could hear a soft creaking sound, as if the house itself were groaning in pain. As he stepped onto the threshold, his footsteps echoed, piercing the dead silence.

"Here, ghosty, ghosty, ghosty," he muttered under his breath, as he gestured for Toast to follow.

"Sir," whispered his partner, "I'm picking up some readings." He held up a small tablet, pointing at a flashing green light that appeared in the top left corner of the device.
"Great work, Johnny," Ghost replied, "Now be careful. We don't want to do anything stupid while on this case. We may end up dead."

"Yes, sir," Toast nodded. Only muffled rustlings could be heard, as the amatuer investigators searched carefully for the ghost, slowly opening drawers, checking cabinets, and examining the interior of the rooms. Little did they know, the entity they thought they were after was gone. They were tracking something completely different.

***

Someone else was looking for the culprit. A tall figure in a black, leather jacket stalked the halls, brandishing a silver knife. His Red eyes slowly traced the rooms, searching them. Jimmy Casket could see his own breath as he wandered through dim hallways on the second floor. Where was the geometrical monster that had caused so much trouble? He gritted his teeth, concentrating on his unseen target. The box-like fiend was responsible for the deaths of an entire family. It had killed them all, one by one. The investigators were bound to notice. People didn't just die without a reason, whether good or bad. But they didn't know that many more lives were at stake. Jimmy had to end it. He had to end the killer. And now he had caught it's trail. Jimmy followed a faint scent of cardboard. It wasn't much to go on, as the odor was faint, as if it was old. But it was a lead. Suddenly, Jimmy heard a noise. A whimper, perhaps? It was as if someone was crying. Jimmy turned towards the sound. Someone else was hiding in the dark. Picking up a new smell, Jimmy started up a staircase. His footsteps creaked on the old floorboards, a little too loudly.

"H-hello?", a small voice sounded, tearfully. Jimmy stopped, and waited in the darkness. This could be his enemy. He didn't dare move.

"W-who's there?", the voice came again. It sounded like a child was speaking. Jimmy sighed. It didn't sound like a trap. Maybe this kid could help him.

"Are you alright?", he called, "I'm not here to hurt you." He heard small footsteps. A boy, who looked about ten years old came down the stairs. Jimmy put away his knife. The child looked tired and tear stains left clear trails on his face.

"Hello, young one," Jimmy said, in a greeting.

"Y-you can see me?", the boy's eyes grew wide.

"Of course I can!", the taller man replied, "Though you are a little transparent..."

"S-so it's true, then," the boy stared at his small hands, "I'm dead, aren't I?"

"Are you?", Jimmy responded with a question.

"I... I think so," the boy nodded, "I'm Gregory. What's your name?"

"They call me Jimmy Casket," the half-demon stated, "So Gregory, have you seen any....cardboard people, by chance?" Gregory's face darkened at the word 'cardboard'.

"Yes," he said, anger bubbling in his heart, "He's my friend. Was my friend... Well, I thought he was my friend..." Even in the dark, Jimmy could see the shimmer of tears around the child's eyes.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jimmy replied, "He betrayed you, didn't he?"

Gregory only nodded. Jimmy thought for a second.

"Listen, kid," he stated, "I'm here to get you out of here. Before... they come."

"Who?", Gregory asked.

"There are some dangerous people who hunt us," Jimmy explained, "And by us, I mean paranormal entities. Ghosts, demons, vampires, werewolves, angels, monsters. You name it. They call themselves P.I.E. Yes, it's a dumb name, but the people who work there are.... Slightly smarter than you would think. And they hunt us. Banish us. Destroy us, sometimes." Jimmy shuddered. He'd seen a lot of terrible things in his life.

"Anyway, that puts us in hiding. You're a ghost, so they'll certainly try to get rid of you... no matter your size or age. I'm here to help you escape, and to avenge your death," Jimmy held out his hand, "So... are you coming?" Gregory hesitated. He had no idea if this man was trustworthy, but what choice did he really have? He didn't want to take any chances with those investigators Jimmy had told him about. "Ok," he finally spoke, taking the half-demon's hand. Jimmy smiled.

"C'mon, then," he said, a sudden urgency entering his manner, "We should hurry..." Together, they tiptoed down the stairs, but at that moment, the door opened, and a white circle of light shone on the wall across from it. A faint scent of old clothes filled the room.

"They're here!" Jimmy whispered, "We've got to hide." They crept into the shadows, as a hooded figure appeared in the doorway.