Suzanne couldn't get back to her body. She didn't know why, but she knew it had something to do with Melody. So she stayed with Norgaard and his partner, and watched while they tried to get the front doors open.

She looked up at the sky. It was strange. To human eyes, the sky was cloudless, dark save only for the pricks of starlight. To her eyes — if you could call them that — there was something dark clouding the air.

And it was coming off the school in waves. The doors pulsed with that darkness, making her feel sicker and sicker the closer she got to it.

She couldn't hear a word that Norgaard and his partner said to each other, but the younger broader man was obviously distressed. She watched as he stood back, aiming his gun and pulling the trigger once. When nothing happened, he emptied his gun into the glass doors.

He stared at it for a moment, then turned to Norgaard and said something. Norgaard had relaxed considerably since he first got the message on the radio, and now he was as calm and cold as ever. His blue soldier's eyes assessed the doors stoically. He said something, pulling something out of his pocket and holding it up briefly.

Whatever the item was, it shone with a bright white light, a stark and opposite power to whatever Melody had draped over the school. Suzanne found herself drawn to that power, whatever it was. Norgaard drew his own gun, popping open the cylinder and removing one bullet. He loaded the shining power into the gun, and she realized it was some kind of bullet.

Magic bullets... For killing ghosts? Now I've seen everything, she thought.

When Norgaard flicked the cylinder closed, the gun flashed, and something on the handle bagan to glow. He aimed at the doors, and pulled the trigger.

{ { o } }

Suzanne bolted upright, then instantly regretted it. She felt as if someone had clubbed her over the head with a sledgehammer, and her vision swam dizzily. Sounds reached her ears, but she couldn't make out what they were.

She put a hand to her face, swallowing the sudden urge to puke up everything she'd ever eaten in her life. She frowned, pulling her hand away and blinking down at it. It was red.

Blood, she realized. Wow... When was the last time I had a nosebleed? She didn't have the time to worry about it, she needed to pull herself together.

Suzanne turned her attention to the room around her. It was an unused classroom, dust covered everything, and she found she was sitting on top of what once was the teacher's desk. But none of that mattered.

Between her and the door stood her friends in a line. They all looked as if they'd been hit on the head, slumped over, clutching their ears. Through the gaps between them, Suzanne saw what they were facing.

Or would it be more accurate to say who they were facing? Did it make a difference?

Suzanne's head was killing her, and she hadn't yet completely gathered her wits about her, but she knew she wasn't going to let them face Melody alone. She slid off the desk, wobbling on her feet a bit as the floor swayed beneath her. She stumbled to stand next to Tom, grabbing his shoulder both to steady herself, and to alert him to her presence.

Through the thin contact, blocked only by the fabric of his sweater, she could feel his ears ringing, his terror trying to overtake him. But she felt something else, beating back the fear.

Resolve. Determination. Stubbornness.

And something else that she couldn't put a name to, something that drew her in and wrapped around her like a warm embrace after a cold journey. A welcoming bond.

An unquestionable strength.

Tom looked up at her, his face slightly tight with pain. A sharp grin lit up his face. "Hey, Suze," he said, his voice a bit louder than it strictly needed to be. But she didn't mind.

She grinned back at him. By this point she'd caught everyone else's attention as well, and they all looked glad to see her. And, she realized, she was glad to see them too. "You guys weren't gonna have all this fun without me, were you?" She asked.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Suzie dear," Eddie chirped, flashing her a wink.

Aw, that's cute. Look at you all. Drawn together by a common enemy. It's like a bad play.

They all looked up at the ghost, who had clearly recovered from whatever Norgaard had done. Suzanne straightened, her grip tightening on Tom's shoulder. Of course! Norgaard and his partner should be on their way up!

Melody planted her hands on her hips, a disturbingly human gesture coming from a walking shadow. Much as I'd love to take my time with you all, the clock is ticking.

"You're right," Suzanne said, something in the hall behind Melody glinting in the light of the classroom. "And your time is up."

{ { o } }

Klocke followed his partner into the building without question, but his head was still spinning. You can't kill it, Norgaard had said. But you can slow it down. Weaken it, if you can understand that.

There's something in there killing kids.

Something...

Klocke didn't understand. He didn't know what was going on. His .38 hadn't even scratched the glass doors. Yet when Norgaard had loaded that strange bullet and pulled the trigger...

The glass had shattered outward as if some force from inside had attacked it. And that scream...

But he trusted Norgaard. Sure, the man hadn't told him everything, hadn't answered any of his questions — had even dodged them, and done so quite well — but none of that mattered. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

What mattered to Klocke was the years they'd spent watching each other's backs. Norgaard had saved his live on numerous occasions, and Klocke had returned the favor at every given opportunity.

Norgaard was his friend, and in a way, his mentor. The man was his partner, through and through.

And Klocke trusted him.

So he would follow him anywhere. Even when he didn't fully understand the situation.

Like now.

Norgaard seemed to know exactly where to go, leading Klocke all the way up to the third floor. On the way Klocke kept his eyes and ears open, guarding the rear. The lights overhead flickered occasionally, some of them went out completely, and some were never on to begin with. Behind them the halls seemed to get darker and darker, and then Klocke heard voices.

They weren't close enough to make out, but they got clearer as they got closer.

Until they were right outside a classroom, it's light brightening the area more than the hallway lights.

Someone stood in the doorway, someone small and feminine. Her figure was silhouetted by the light, her hands on her hips and her head tilted to one side, as if in curiosity.

"You're right," a voice said. Klocke figured it came from someone else in the room, someone he couldn't quite see. "And you're time is up."

Norgaard planted himself firmly behind the girl in the doorway, his gun pressed to the back of her head. "You just couldn't stay dead, could you?"

And where would be the fun in that? And the girl in the doorway turned to look at Norgaard over her shoulder.

Klocke's eyes widened, but not just because her voice had seemed to echo in his head, rather than his ears. Not just because he realized that her form was not a silhouette, but a shifting, slithering mass of smoke and shadows. But also because her eyes were pits of blazing fury, glowing a red deeper than the depths of Hell. What is that!?

Those glowing coals of eyes turned to focus on him, sparking briefly with some unidentifiable emotion. Oh? You have another partner? Poor man, he doesn't know about your curse, does he? Hello, Norgaard's new partner. Melody Ziskind, a pleasure to meet you. And she nodded to Klocke, who could do nothing more than gape at her — or it? — in shock.

"You leave him outta this," Norgaard growled, his lips peeling away from his teeth in a snarl. "If you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go to all this trouble to get it."

Aw, but that wouldn't have been any fun at all. You're just mad because I have the upper hand.

"Bull shit. We both know how this is going to end, Melody. So let the kids go, and I promise it'll be quick."

Klocke's mind was trying to comprehend everything that he was seeing and hearing, but at the second use of the name, 'Melody', he knew he was losing it. Melody was the girl who had killed all those kids back in the 60's.

Melody was dead.

And things like what Norgaard was pointing his gun at didn't exist outside books and movies. This whole thing was probably a dream. He and Norgaard had probably stayed at the bar and gotten plastered, then gone home and passed out. None of this could possibly be real.

Melody's laughter snapped him from this thoughts. You're funny. You can't kill me with that thing. What happened to that sword from before? D'you give it back? Didn't want the job?

Norgaard didn't answer at first, seemingly taken slightly aback. "You've done some research. What kinds of monsters have you been talking to?"

All the right kinds.

And then that shadowy mass blurred, moving too quickly for the human eye to follow. Time seemed to stop, and start, and stop again. Like a series of pictures, capturing everything a few seconds apart. What do you call that? Stop motion, or something?

There was a shot — or two, three? — a scream, and blood. Norgaard's gun skittered away from his hand as he hit the floor.

Klocke's gun clicked on empty several times before he even realized he'd been shooting, and he dropped it, grabbing Norgaard's from where it stopped by his feet. There was no time to think, or question. Norgaard had acted as though that thing could be killed, had loaded what Klocke could only assume was a special bullet into the cylinder specifically for that purpose.

So he aimed for that mass of shadows, and pulled the trigger.

The shadows froze, red eyes snapping up to lock with his. The thing screamed, launching towards him. Klocke stumbled back in shock and panic, firing into the shadows again as the came at him. They latched onto him, the weight of them catching him off guard as he hit the floor. You! She snarled, pure unadulterated rage dripping from every word. You've ruined everything!

Something sharp latched onto his throat, and he tried to claw at it, but his hands passed right through it. His heart was pounding, his ears rang, and his head pounded as the blood tried and failed to make it to his brain. Maybe it was the fear and adrenaline, or maybe his fading consciousness, but he thought he saw those shadows flickering, bits and tendrils coming off and fading. Then disappearing completely.

Congratulations, Detective Klocke. Now it's your curse.

And then the thing — the ghost? — was gone, and Klocke gasped for sweet precious air. Who knew that the ability to breathe could be so easily taken for granted?

Darkness threatened to swallow him, but he fought it off, slowly hauling himself onto his knees and crawling towards where Norgaard lay bleeding on the floor.

Klocke's stomach turned at what he saw, and a new terror gripped his heart.