The Call of the Abyss

[PavellumPendulum]

Outskirts of Aurora. 7:34 PM. Cloudy, darkened skies, chilling winds.

The air smelled of rain. The world had been washed, purified by the water that had drizzled Aurora, though the thickening anxiety and dread that had settled over the town across the past few months held stiff between the townsfolk. It could be anyone. An acquaintance. A coworker. A friend. A family member. A lover. People disappeared without a trace, without saying goodbye, without ceremony and without closure for those left behind. No bodies to bury, no evidence to collect. The sheriff's office had been inundated with complaints biweekly, tearful parents slamming doors and shrieking about the lack of action, concerned neighbours wondering when they would be receiving answers. Sheriff Hartman remained tightlipped, but the dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes. There was no escape from gossip in a town where everyone knew each other. The disappearances chipped at Aurora, day in and day out.

The people grew restless. They held town hall meetings with the mayor. They set up a volunteer nightwatch with the help of those working at the sheriff's office. They kept an eye out for suspicious behaviour, anything and everything that could point them in the right direction. Tonight was another night of trying to find answers. Another search party in the dark, this time with a larger radius, and even more volunteers. Most people were off of work now, making their way out to the northern outskirts of the village, towards the denser parts of the forest, as well as Stony River. Everyone was exhausted by their anger, but what else could they do besides search and give their time, despite never finding any semblance of good news?

Hopelessness weaved its way between the search party members, many in rainjackets and boots, feeling their feet sink into the wet dirt, the earth welcoming them outside. Large flashlights were distributed to groups and everyone was given a whistle, to blow if they found something or if they were in need of help. In the front of the pack was the volunteer leader of the week: Mitena Ironblanket.

Search Groups

Mitena, Jeremiah @Jenamos , Noah @MiharuAya
Amber @TerraBooma , Piper @Hecatoncheires , Cheshire @Hillvale
Victor @MaryGold , Dominic @Jenamos , Sebastion @MiharuAya , Abigail @Kuno

---

MITENA IRONBLANKET
Hunter, leatherworker & helicopter parent
Interactions: Jeremiah @Jenamos , Noah @MiharuAya

They felt physically ill.

The past two weeks had been their own personal hell, perhaps for something they'd done. Perhaps they had done wrong in their lives, a debt that remained a void, needing to be filled in order for the universe to move on. But why punish Pala? Mitena held their shawl tighter around their shoulders, hoping that the comforting warmth of it would banish the nausea growing in the back of their throat, but it did no such thing. In fact, it only made things worse. They thought of the times Pala asked about the symbols embroidered into the wool, carefully beaded images of birds and cyclic life, in repetition along the length of it. They thought about their parents and how they'd failed them, by letting Pala out of their sight. The boy did not know any better. Mitena had no doubt that the earth was merciful, that nature did not mean to cause them harm, but they would admit that they felt shaken to the core.

They glanced at the people already gathered, seeing others continue to join the steadily growing crowd. The townsfolk exchanged pleasantries, but no one seemed particularly happy to be out in the cold. Mitena chewed on the inside of their cheek, feeling the tender flesh ache between their teeth. That was a bad habit that they'd adopted under all of the stress. It was one that they were hoping would disappear once Pala returned.

"Is everyone ready?" Mitena called out, looking over the crowd, voice soft but clear. "We'll search in groups of three and four, covering the whole forest, past Stony River. Once you hit the edge of the forest with your group, turn back. We'll meet back here in around an hour."

It really wasn't necessary to explain, Mitena knew. Many of these people had been in previous search parties. They looked to their own group now, Jeremiah and Noah. The first they knew well, but the second? Not as much. Truthfully, despite being very spiritual, Mitena shied away from organized religion, not really feeling like it was for them. "Is the flashlight working?" they asked Jeremiah, who had been assigned to holding it.

 

[TerraBooma]

Amber Hartman
Supernatural Investigator, ASDC

Interactions: @Hecatoncheires @Hillvale​

Salt. Check.

Cross. Check.

Camera. Click

For what felt like the twentieth time, Amber Hartman scoured through her backpack for all the equipment that the Aurora Supernatural Detective Club could muster. She'd been there from the start, and she'd felt the energy fall. The weight of the missing persons flickering from a determined air of a naive search party, to the anguished, roiling anger of people who felt hunted. The sound of pleasantries mired by the soggy earth. It always seemed to rain at the worst times, and there had been no good times for the search party lately.

Her coworker Dale had been one of the first to vanish. She wasn't in love with the guy, but she did feel for him. The first 24 hours of any missing persons case were often the most important, and they were well over weeks gone now...if Dale was alive, she didn't want to think about what condition he was in. Most vengeful spirits would have simply murdered someone and gone to rest, but the lack of a body didn't seem to indicate spiritual involvement, at least not on its own. Ghosts were malevolent beings, but they didn't care to clean up after themselves most of the time. If she was being honest, she was skeptical that all of the missing persons were even alive...most urban beasts that could pick people off like this did it for feeding reasons. But she couldn't let that thought simmer for long, not when-

Click. She snapped a photo of Mitena standing above them all, a candid shot of the gathering crowd below her. It felt important, to document all of it, so at least they would have a detailed history of what happened here. She went to call out that they were ready, but the sound died in her throat. She'd always had a rocky if well meaning relationship with Pala's sibling, but these days it was more awkward than ever. She'd done everything she could to prep her investigative aide for something like this, but that hadn't been enough.

But she'd find him. Pala wasn't stupid, Amber'd been teaching him everything she knew about how to survive encounters with the unknown. If anyone could tough it out, he could. He was resourceful, clever. Long as he could remember his lessons, then he'd be alright.

The Aurora Supernatural Detective Club was not in the business of leaving a man behind. Not if Amber Delilah Hartman had anything to say about it.

"Chesh. You got your salt right?" It was idle chatter- Amber always mumbled when she was anxious, and this was no exception. Focusing on her friend- one of the more recent arrivals in town. She held up one of her small, personally prepared pouches. They were a pain in the butt to make, but they did the job. One chuck, and anything you'd hit would be covered in salt. Given the mineral's natural repulsive traits, it made for an effective protection in a pinch. "I've got extra if you need one, Deputy Hewlett. That was the biggest tell that she was on edge. If the nervous fidgeting and resupply of her equipment didn't give it away, calling Piper anything less than a well meaning if slightly demeaning nickname was certainly out of character. "I know Dad still won't make them standard issue, even though I keep nagging him." Really, it was an obvious move in her eyes.

Normally, Amber would've hated some big group like this. Far more effective to move in small teams, cover more ground. But with people vanishing, everyone was on edge. The teams of three were for protection as much as they were for efficiency, she could tell that at a glance.

God this...really sucked.

"I figured since Pipes is probably going to be carrying, and I've got my Camera, you should take flashlight duty Chesh. The whistle too." She motioned to the heavy duty equipment they brought with them. "Game plan is pretty simple. We'll make for as far into the forest as we can, I'll keep an eye on the EMF. If we pick up any reactions, we'll set up the Ghost Box." She slung her backpack- unwieldy as it may have been- over her shoulder. "If we're lucky, we'll get a hold of a spirit. Remember your salt lines in case it turns out to be the culprit. But any might have a good lead at this point." She didn't want to say it, but at this point, even talking to the ghost of a victim might lead them in one direction. They needed something to cling onto, some kind of lead to follow. But she was convinced they wouldn't find anything physical. If there was, her Dad would have tracked that down over a week ago...

Dale. Pala. Everyone. Hold on, help was on the way. And the ASDC was going to spearhead the breakthrough that brought everyone home safe. Or at least...she really hoped so.

 

[Hillvale]

Cheshire Shook

Rocker, ASDC

Interactions: @Hecatoncheires @TerraBooma

Never touch on the topic of entitlement
But I'm scared and weathered
Worn and weak
Infantile, yet spent

These words came to mind as Cheshire stood here. Song lyrics, from one of her favorite bands. Too often people stood behind doors and walls when they could be out here doing something. She wasn't quick to anger either but this...? This made her enraged even if she didn't speak openly to anyone on the matter. Unlike the rest of them she didn't have any real attachment to the lost. She did however have a friend who felt just as strongly as she did on the matter.

That's why she stood here, and she would continue to fight alongside her for myriad truths underneath the pressure of this dishonest town. She wore a hoodie underneath a red studded leather jacket to keep from feeling the damp air. When she was asked the question she replied in kind by showing off a duffel slung over one shoulder. Unzipping it she showed off at least two cans and an assortment of other objects that included, a pack of lighters, several business cards she intended to burn, now the flash light and whistle. Over the other was her trusty electric guitar. Whether it would be useful or not she had no idea but it would make for a good melee weapon if nothing else.

"Yeah, I came prepared for once."

She took the flashlight and followed after the woman with a child-like trust. Despite the seeming bleakness of the situation Amber was ready to go. Motivated enough to establish herself as a leader out here in an endeavor that even her father seemingly thought fruitless. She still wasn't sure if there were creatures out in this forest but nothing "natural" came from this many missing people. She knew that much to be sure. It was hard not to put forth any effort when Amber was out here trying her hardest. Some of these people must have been important to her.

Then there was the third member of the team. She wondered if Piper was out here of her own accord or if she was just watching her bosses daughter. Maybe he cared a bit more than he let on? She felt the need to ask Piper a question even if it made her seem a bit crazy.

"Do you have silver in case of werewolves?"

Her attention then came back to Amber as she spoke up about the electronic devices for dealing with paranormal stuff. An excited gasp emitted from her as she looked it over.

"Oh, dude! That thing looks so cool! It must have been expensive!"

Her excitement never faltered. Instead she only beamed as her friend took full charge as she continued to speak. Despite any fear she may have had, Amber seemed to be a born leader.

"Seriously, let's try to get a circle going somewhere and we can capture the ghosts. Do you think we could get some really smart inventor to make that vacuum gun from the Ghostbusters?"

In that single moment, Cheshire raised her finger to make her point and revealed exactly how smart she was. A bit naive and easily excitable but she really did have a good heart.

​

 

[Hecatoncheires]

Piper Hewlett
Exasperated Sheriff's Deputy

Interactions: @TerraBooma @Hillvale ​

I've been racking my brain for nearly two weeks to figure out why in the Hell we're not doing anything.

We should have lit the signal fires by now. A town the size of Aurora shouldn't have this many disappearances in so short a timespan without alarms needing to be sounded. That was the case I made to Sheriff Hartman, perhaps less diplomatically worded, when I was arguing for calling the cavalry. The Staties. The Governor's Office. Hell, even the Feds at this point. Someone. Anyone. But Hartman just gave me that thousand yard stare of his, muttered something about it being too early yet, and left the room.

Is it pride? Wouldn't be the first time. Saw it back in Seattle; squabbles between precincts, the icy reception to the Bureau boys when they came sauntering in to take over an investigation. No police officer likes to admit that they're unable to cope with the situation. But that's not Hartman, by my estimation. The man gets on pretty well with the State Police: we've called them in before, and for less.

But there was something in that stare of his, that look in his eyes. Same one I saw back on my CO when we were in Kosovo, when I was brandishing a case file of missing Yugoslav collaborators in his face.

The look of a man who knew more than he was willing to let on.

I let things simmer for a few weeks. Let the missing persons reports pile up on my desk, the panicked relatives scream and shout and call us every name under the sun. But it was that last report I filled in yesterday that finally tipped me over the edge. Elisa Wormald. Husband of Philip Wormald, local forestry worker, missing since the day before. No priors, no enemies in town, no history of substance abuse or mental health issues. He just woke up one day, took his kids to school, took himself off to work… and then vanished off the face of the Earth.

Elisa wasn't like some of the other relatives of missing persons I'd been dealing with. No hysterics, no insults, no questioning just what the Sheriff's Department was doing (other than sitting around on it's ass). She was polite, calm, thorough with every question. But as she rose from the chair in front of my desk, I saw something in that suburban charm she wore like armour crack for a moment. The tears start to gather in her eyes, even as she struggled to master herself.
"Things like this aren't supposed to happen in Aurora, Deputy Hewlett," she said quietly. Then she left without another word.

Found myself staring at the wall for a long few minutes, after that. Found myself hurling my coffee mug at it shortly after.

Then I signed out some gear from the equipment locker, grabbed the phone at my desk and gave Mitena a call.

Hence why I find myself loaded up with a trail pack trekking through a forest as the dark sets in around us, smelling the rain on the air and acting as babysitter to the boss's daughter and her equally strange friend.

I shouldn't be rude. Amber's a good kid and even though Cheshire screams 'out here in the sticks to escape problems back home', at least she's doing something. More than most people in this town can say. Shit, more than the Sheriff's Department can say, given that Chambers and I are here in an entirely unofficial capacity. They could perhaps be taking the whole thing a little more seriously, though, given that they seem hell-bent on drawing rather unorthodox conclusions the total lack of evidence we currently have.

When they start breaking out the salt and ghost boxes, however, it becomes necessary to put my foot down. Letting out a sigh, I come to a halt and rest the barrel of my Remington on my shoulder.
"This is a search, not a ghost hunt. We're looking for footprints, abandoned belongings, blood trails. All of which can be contaminated or ruined by you throwing salt at shadows." I point to either side of myself. "Space yourselves out five metres apart. We move in a line. Flashlights and..." I glance at Amber's camera and raise an eyebrow, "...flashguns sweeping the area in front of us. You see something, you call out and we all stop. Got that?"

Reaching to my belt, I unclip the Maglite hanging there and activate it. The flashlight beam erupts across the undergrowth and tree bark, illuminating the area in an unnaturally stark hue.

If I'm going to be stuck with the would-be supernatural detectives, the least we can do is a proper goddamn search line.

 

[TerraBooma]

Amber Hartman
Supernatural Investigator, ASDC

Interactions: @Hillvale @Hecatoncheires​

With a side-cocked grin and a plucky thumbs up, Amber approved of her newer friends equipment preparations. Cheshire may have been newer to their little down, and thus newer to the specter hunting scene, but she had proved to be a quick study. That was good; she didn't want any slackers in the ASDC. Everyone had to pull their weight! If only because she couldn't afford for them to be wasteful...most of their equipment came out of Amber's pocket, much to her dad's chagrin.

"Nice loadout Cheshy! We'll be reading for anything the woods can throw our way. Nice job bringing the axe. Never know when a sound weakness might crop up." Her cheery demeanor seemed to falter pretty quickly though.

Blowing a small lip trill, she ran a hand through the loose hair that slipped away from her toque. "No..." She murmured sheepishly. "Dad took all of my Silver stuff after Operation: Dogwhistle. Turns out that that guy Brian was just out cheating on his wife and not in fact, turning into a werewolf every full moon." She pouted, crossing her arms. "Soo he confiscated it all for a month or two. Apparently there were too many complaints about me sneaking around during the full moon. But someone's gotta catch them!" Rolling her eyes, she flicks a hand up dismissively. "We'll be fine though. If we can clear up this missing persons stuff by the next full moon. I've been growing Wolfsbane in the backyard, so we're totally stocked up."

As Cheshire commented about the price, Amber gave a slightly sheepish grin and waved her off, trying to make it appear to be no big deal. "Heeey it's no biggie! Just one of the perks of being in the ASDC, right? We only got the best equipment money can buy!" She paused, grin faltering as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Well...the best equipment money can buy secondhand, anyway. We won't be able to get the real good stuff until we start cracking cases and getting some footage or pictures we can sell for some cash, y'know?" She framed it like it wasn't a far off prospect whatsoever. Not that she planned to sell any of her photos taken during the search mission- those were purely for documentary purposes.

"Woah there, slow your horses there Chesh. It sounds like a good idea, but if we trap a spirit that isn't necessarily hostile, it could lead to-"

Amber's finely detailed and well documented explanation about the importance of establishing spirit hostility was cut unfortunately short by Piper interjecting, barking on about search lines while toting her shotgun like a cowboy inspecting a saloon for notorious bandits.

Amber let out an audible huff as she held three fingers to her forehead. Skeptics. It was a natural barrier to the time honored profession of documenting that which Humanity barely understood, but with this many lives on the line, it was going to be a contentious problem at that.

"Deputy Pipes. Trust me, I get it. This is a high profile issue, we're taking it as seriously as everyone else here, honest." She bites her lip, looking around to make sure nobody else is listening in and dropping her voice to a whisper. "But the fact of the matter is that we've been combing the woods for weeks now and haven't turned up a single clue. Looking into alternative causes might be the next best course of action." She held up hand with a placative expression on her face.

"Believe me, I know how to keep a crime scene clean. But c'mon, have you ever seen me contaminate a crime scene before? I'm on them all the time! I'm always careful to document the whole scene before I make any changes. Crime Scene Photography is a cornerstone of the investigative process."

Amber holds up her camera, tapping its side affectionately.

"Once we find a clearing or something in the woods, we'll make sure there isn't anything pertinent in the area. Sweep it twice if thats what it takes to ease your mind. After that, we can do a quick spectral operation. If we don't get anything that's fine, but at this point, any lead is worth taking at least twenty minutes to figure out, right? Think of it like a...temporary admission to the Aurora Supernatural Detective Club, alright?"

With that sorted, she pulls out a singular salt pouch from her bag. "Chesh, mind running this over to Seb? I bet he didn't bring any anyway."

 

[Hillvale]

Cheshire Shook
Rocker, ASDC

Interactions: @Hecatoncheires @TerraBooma

Pending Interactions: @MiharuAya

"I try my best."

She beamed at the praise. A glint of cocky determination spread across her features. She extended her fist for a bump.

"The luckiest thing I have from back home. It should serve us well."

She admitted her own superstitious belief about her weapon of choice. When her friend seemed to falter she placed a reassuring hand over her shoulder.

"You got this! Stop doubting yourself, girl."

Whether Amber wanted to admit she was born for this or not was up to her. Cheshire saw it way to many times in the girl's actions. She was a natural born detective. It was hard to believe that none of her father was in her being a police chief and all. She just had to see what Cheshire herself saw in her.

"Now that I got this new job... I'll start pitching in with extra stuff. Just say the word and I'll look around at some local mystical knickknack stores. Maybe we can get you a better cam if that one doesn't make it through the night. Just make sure to stay close, okay?"

She offered that to show the woman she was ride or die. She always would be too. When she spoke up about her previous statement about capturing ghosts. Cheshire remained adamant on the matter.

"It could lead to... Questioning them. We can let them go after, ya know? So long as they don't show violence. Maybe the first thing I should get is a Ouiji Board."

She shook her head and spoke in a tone emphasizing how tired she may have been from just getting off work. She said her last thought aloud in wonder. She heard enough bad things about spiritual reactions to the objects but she was no paranormal expert. Maybe they would work.

"Can ghosts swing on us even if we can't on them?"

The question that followed sounded like more off her rocker quirkiness.

"Either way, maybe it's better if we play with fire here. The town's backs against the wall as is."

On the subject of backs being up against the wall. The very intense woman who was packing suddenly spoke up on the conversation. She looked up at the sky as Amber turned her attention to Piper. All the while tapping her chin in thought. The weather was sure to turn fowl soon. The smell was thick already and thunder was sure to sound any second from her perspective. She didn't really pay any mind to Piper's take to her and her friend's investigative purposes. She knew she had to be stressed out and being out here in the cold probably didn't help matters much. Cheshire was perceptive enough to realize the woman was on edge due to her job's stake on the matter. Even if she was doing this "off the record" like the rest of them.

"I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, Deputy Hewlett. However, if we don't get out there soon... Anything we could find will be washed away in the morning, yeah?"

She then went on to explain. She said this in a way that wasn't meant disrespectfully, far from it. She was just working to remind her that they were here doing as much as they could too. They didn't have near as much military practice as the woman and Cheshire sure wasn't pretending she did as young as the woman was. Instead she spaced out as told to by their superior. Spacing in more ways then one as Amber explained their full intent to the woman. When Amber came back to ask a favor. Cheshire snapped a quick salute and went to go find the other police officer that joined the search party.

"I'm on it, boss!"

She quickly skittered to find him so she would be back in position in time for them to fan out over the forest.​

 

[wren.]

hh

hh

JEREMIAH

On nearly every account, Jeremiah should be the last person trudging through ankle-high mud on a journey that he knows will be at best pointless and at worst lethal. He's never been a particularly strong man, and age and lack of exercise has left him even less athletic. While he has some knowledge about surviving in the wilderness based on a couple years worth of boy scout training as a child, he's never even camped out anywhere since the day he quit. Maybe he's being dramatic — it's not like they're hiking mountains or anything, but the ground is slippery from the rain and in the hours he and the other volunteers have been outside, he's found himself staring at his feet more than in front of him. He should have thought to put some contacts in before leaving, as the rain droplets and fog mean he has to keep wiping his glasses on the driest portion of his shirt poking out from his wool trench coat.

Whether he is fit to join the town's search groups or not is irrelevant to the fact that he must. It's been three months since Lorena's disappearance, and although each day brings with it a more hard to chew conviction that his student is dead because of him, he can't give up on her until he has a clear sign of her demise. That's what all of this is really about; closure. Even if most of the other volunteers don't want to admit it, they must know deep down that the only thing they'll likely find is their missing loved ones' bones. Maybe he's just cynical, but he'd rather adjust to the painful truth now than keep his eyes squeezed shut and put his hands over his ears all his life. If Lorena somehow is alive, well. He's the one who let her get too carried away in her interest in the paranormal, so if there's any way to save her, he owes it to her.

Still, even if they never find anyone, there's the possibility of finding other clues as to why nearly 10% of their tiny town's population has disappeared without a trace. If they find the cause, then perhaps they can put a stop to it before anyone else gets hurt. That's where his research becomes valuable. Besides his studies in physics and chemistry, he's also studied a great deal on paranormal phenomena. He'd learned of the town of Aurora through that research and had obtained residency knowing full well that something was off about the place, and although he's never had any encounters himself as of yet, he can feel it in his bones that it's only a matter of time. There's no way that what they're dealing with is a simple mass kidnapping or serial killing. Surely, if it was, there'd be at least a scrap of something that one could call evidence. Then again, with both the mayor and the police's silence, it's possible that there is evidence that hasn't been revealed to the public yet.

This is his third week joining with the search parties and so far, none of their expeditions have turned up anything. The faces of the volunteers are becoming more and more familiar to him, even if he's never spoken to them, although their numbers seem to grow with each passing day. Amber Hartman has likely been here since the very first day knowing her conviction and passion for the paranormal, and each time he spots her, he can't help but worry that she'll wind up just like Lorena if she gets too carried away. Victor has joined the search, too, likely in search of his dear daughter's best friend. Although he's never been especially close with his saccharine colleague, he knows that he'd do anything for his little Pearl. Hopefully it doesn't get him killed. As horrible as it is to say, Pearl will no doubt have an easier time moving on from her best friend when she isn't an orphan, too.

One of the people he's been saddled with today is exceedingly familiar: Mitena Ironblanket. The elder sibling of one Pala Ironblanket, Jeremiah had become quite acquainted with them over the course of teaching Pala and putting up with the boy's pranks. While Pala's mischievous tendencies had certainly not endeared Jeremiah to him, thinking about what might have happened to the poor boy violently churns his stomach. He refrains from commenting on it, the determined look that has been etched into Mitena's face over the weeks enough evidence that they would not be amenable to discussing morbid "what if"s.

The other member of their party is unfamiliar to him, although he does recognize him as the town's new priest. There's no church in Aurora, so there'd been a bit of a commotion when the man had first arrived, some people ecstatic and others less so. While Jeremiah would consider himself agnostic, open to all possibilities without believing in one, he does find it fortunate that they've been grouped up with someone who likely has some of the best protection tools out of everyone.

"The flashlight's working, but it does keep flickering," he sighs, tapping the device against his hand to steady its white-yellow beam. "I brought some extra batteries, though, if it goes out." He taps the bag strapped to his back for emphasis. "I brought a camera, too, and a couple of tape recorders. I brought a spirit box, too, although I largely believe them to be bullshit just like EMF readings. Did you bring any holy water, Father? We may or may not be dealing with something demonic, but tossing it in someone's face will at least be a decent distraction."

「 @PavellumPendulum | @MiharuAya 」

code by wren.

 

[MaryGold]

In the process of being edited

VICTOR

Tired Father & Cool Teacher™

"Shit!"

the forest floor was slippery with fallen wet leaves and mud. And Victor fell prey to its slippery trap, his foot sliding backward with one wrong step. He caught himself on the ragged ahead of him, it was strong and thick enough to hold his weight and resist bending and breaking. "I mean crap - wait no, I do mean shit." He cursed beneath his breath. How easy it was to forget that he was not in the presence of seven to eight children, but grown adults all on a clear mission with a somber mood in the air.

Then again, Abigail was there.

"Crap..." He said once more and pulled himself up. This trudge was taking a little toll on him, embarrassingly so. It was no hike but a search party in the woods The ground was mostly level, but the downpour, wet and dark surroundings made it harder to walk through. To remain cautious of each step was impossible, but if he was not careful enough he would just as he had.

He did not complain once though. Not when he looked back at his hands and noticed the red scratch across his palm, not when he found he had to catch his breath again, and especially not when he had to lean over and pick his flashlight up from the mud. He used the hem of his raincoat to wipe away the mud that obscured the light. He couldn't slow down the group, he wouldn't be a deadweight when he had every reason to be there just as they did.

Victor didn't know them very well except for Abigail. He knew she was there for the same reason as him. It may not have been their children, but it could have been. The thought was as terrifying as it appeared. And he hoped for beyond all reason Maya was alive. It was naive thinking, but was the point if they didn't believe some of the missing townsfolk were still out there and waiting to be found? It was the last sliver of hope he desperately clung to that kept him searching each night with the others.

"Watch your step, it's slippery." He said as if he hadn't so obviously displayed how slippery the ground was beneath them. The warning was meant to be a courteous one. Though being the tallest one there, one would think he would be able to see the dangers better than the rest.

He hesitated to speak his next words, "did anyone-" he paused, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. "Any holy objects?" Under any other circumstances, he would have found the question preposterous He didn't believe in the paranormal, supernatural, none of it. But as the horrid situation carried on, he had to wonder. He looked between the cop who looked green, the bartender he barely knew except that he was a common member of the search party, and one of his only friends, Abigail.

"I noticed a few of the others having done so," Victor didn't mention that he had done so too. It was crazy. Or at least it was to him, and yet, half of him was already buying into it. But had yet to fully accept it.

「 @Jenamos @Kuno @MiharuAya 」

Code by Jenamos

 

[MiharuAya]

Noah Anderson
Location: The Woods
Interactions: Mitena @PavellumPendulum Jeremiah @Jenamos



While Noah stood amongst the crowd of the townsfolk of Aurora, he wore the same solemn expression as everyone else. A look that mirrored the gloomy weather around them. It was almost fitting that the day an innocent youth has been stolen, the heavens appear as if they are about to weep.

As the opaque clouds rolled through the sky overhead, they blocked out the dim moonlight. The forest was dark and unfamiliar to Noah. The priest wasn't a stranger to the wilderness. Noah had spent many summers camping and hiking with his family, to the point that he was fairly confident in his survival skills. However, it was important to recognize that the terrain in Aurora was vastly different than what he was used to. Even more so, it was dark, which always made the forest more dangerous.

With that in mind, Noah tried to come prepared for any situation. Even though they only planned to be out there for a few hours, in these conditions it would be easy to get lost. With that in mind, Noah brought his usual hiking backpack that was still loaded up with supplies from his last outing.

In it was an extensive first aid kit capable of stabilizing victims until proper medical help could arrive. He also carried a survival kit that contained a half-gallon canteen with a water purifier, some energy bars, canned food, several thermal blankets, matches, spare batteries, a swiss army knife, and a hand-crank radio.

Noah also carried a map of the local terrain in his coat pocket, along with a can of bear spray. Around his neck was his usual silver cross, but for this excursion, he added a whistle just in case he needs to garner someone's attention or be located. Overall, he felt pretty that he would be able to handle almost any situation that God threw at him.

Tonight would be his first time volunteering with the search party. Noah found it unfortunate that he was meeting many of the townsfolk for the first time under such somber circumstances. He had only moved into town a few weeks prior and was still adjusting to the change. Although he lived in a small town before, Aurora was much smaller. And with it, came the small-town mentality.

Many of the townsfolk were distrusting and distant from him. Though, it was completely understandable considering the recent events, But, Noah still was going to make every effort to show that he only means well. As people arrived to join the search, Noah handed out warm tea and cocoa from his car, along with handmade cookies as a way to thank the people for coming out to help.

Even within this small town gathering, there were few faces that he recognized. One was Mitena, the poor woman whose sibling had gone missing. Although Noah didn't understand much about all these recent disappearances if a child was missing he couldn't simply turn a blind eye. What if it had been one of his siblings out there all alone? The thought alone makes him shudder.

As Mitena gave the group instructions, Noah listened carefully. He only vaguely remembered a landmark called Stony River from his map, though he suspected that his partners would be more knowledgeable about the terrain. Once the search parties were formed, he was thankful to at least be paired with one member he knew.

While he listened to Jeremiah answer her question, Noah stood quietly. It wasn't until he was addressed as Father that he spoke. "Oh, please just call me Noah. There's no need for formalities." He replied, his hands bashfully waving off the title. "I do have some Holy water," He retrieved a small vial from his pants pocket, showing it to the other. "But, I can bless more if it's needed." Even though they were dealing with something sinister, Noah was certain that it was strictly mortal.

 

[MiharuAya]

Sebastian Chambers
Location: Woods
Interactions: Abigail @Kuno Victor @MaryGold Dominic @Jenamos
Mentions: Mitena @PavellumPendulum Piper @Hecatoncheires Amber @TerraBooma Cheshire @Hillvale

When Sebastian arrived at the outskirts of Aurora, he pulled his old crown victoria off the road and parked alongside the dozen or so other vehicles. As he stared out through his windshield at the foreboding forest looming in front of him, he was filled with a sense of dread.

As a deputy, Sebastian had been a part of these searches since the first person had gone missing. Back then, they thought it was just some unlucky accident that had stolen someone away. Oh, what he wouldn't give to be that naive again. But with each new disappearance, it becomes even more blindingly clear that something is happening in their little town.

Even though Sebastian had entered these woods many times, more times than he could possibly count, it had recently become an unpredictable place. As a young child, wild and carefree, he had joyful memories of spending his entire summer playing with all the other kids his age out in these woods. But now, it only brings misery. Despite how many times they go looking, no one has ever reappeared.

As Sebastian stepped out of his car, he made his usual rounds of greeting the other attendees. With a somber expression, he walked up to Mitena and gave her a tight hug. It wasn't much, but he hoped that it provided at least a moment of solace. Sebastian had known Pala since he was born, and even with his weak condition would go out of his way to try and treat him like a normal kid. He can't even imagine what Mitena must be going through.

Next, he checked in with Piper, her face seeming to be in a perpetual state of worry. Though, he couldn't blame her. Everyone was feeling uneasy these days, some just hide it better than others. As he passed by the Goonies or the ASDC, he waved with a gentle smile, stopping only to remark that he saved a few salt packets from his lunch.

Sebastian still was on the fence about the paranormal, but he figured it wouldn't hurt. After all, even with all the investigations they had conducted, they are no closer to finding an answer. At this point, even if it was something supernatural, at least it would be something.

On the other hand, if the reason for these disappearances was indeed merely part of this mortal plane, then he had his trusty police-issued Glock resting on his hip. In a quiet town like this, he got more use out of it scaring away bears and cougars that had wandered too close to town, but that didn't mean he wasn't a skilled marksman.

As part of his normal deputy attire, he also carried a standard taser, a flare gun, and two pairs of handcuffs. So, he felt confident that he was covered in the corporeal department.

The first member that he spotted in his group was Ms. Fieldman, a woman who makes him slightly nervous. As he gave her a polite nod, he spoke, "Good evening Abigail. How has the shop been? I've been meaning to pick up some flowers for James." Sebastian smiled softly as he spoke about his former partner, one of the first to have disappeared. Even after all this time, he likes to leave flowers for him.

When he spotted the other members of the group, he waved. "Hey, Victor." He called out, giving the man a quick hug. "How's Pearl? I saw her the other day and can't believe how old she's getting." He remarked casually.

"Dom," He greeted playfully. After knowing the man for so long, it wasn't a secret that he hated the nickname. Again, Sebastian gave him a quick hug. "Glad to see you. You're looking well." A genuine warm smile grew across his face. Even though Sebastian might like to tease, he knows that Dominic had been through a lot and was glad to see he was going well.

As he took a step back he shivered as the wind whipped up his coat. Sebastian zipped his coat to his chest. "Is your bar open tonight? I could use a drink to warm up after this," He joked, rubbing his hands together.

 

[PavellumPendulum]

MITENA IRONBLANKET
Hunter, leatherworker & helicopter parent
Interactions: Jeremiah @Jenamos , Noah @MiharuAya

The flashlight in Jeremiah's hands was a comforting sight. As they got deeper into the forest, it would become more difficult to see, with the trees blocking out much of the light. Not that there was much, considering the overcast skies, but it would certainly be darker within the shelter of the trees. The forest that had once felt like a place of wonder, a place to connect the people with the earth, now felt like a traitor, someone who had stolen away all Mitena held dear. Where else could Pala have gone? He was mischievous, but not rambunctious enough to try and hitch a ride out of town, especially without telling them... Though they knew that their relationship had been strained in the passing years, with Pala's need for his own identity and independence, it wasn't like him to just disappear. It was deeply wrong.

Mitena clenched a piece of their shawl protectively, trying not to frown too deeply as Jeremiah spoke of the equipment he'd brought. Batteries were good, but a spirit box? They were superstitious, yes, but they'd always felt like the "ghost-hunting" equipment that the kids raved about did nothing but enrage whatever spirits there were to potentially interact with. After all, such things were meant to be essentially a cellphone shoved in their faces, by silly little humans wanting a word. Regardless, if a spirit had taken Pala, perhaps such things were necessary...

They thumbed the sheathed dagger at their side, obscured by their large shawl. Hopefully, they would not have to use it. "I thank you for being prepared. Hopefully, the forest will acknowledge our efforts." Their words were said with more of a sigh than anything, obviously not the most optimistic in the world. As for Noah pulling out his holy water, Mitena nodded as well. "And thank you both for being here."

Their eyes trained on the two, briefly, mouth pursed as if they had more to say, before they gave up, shifting their eyes back to the search party. It was better just to start, before the weather got worse.

---

Northern forests of Aurora. Slick mud, heavy hearts, the scent of pine in the air.

After a few more minutes of preparation, Mitena gave the signal for all groups to begin moving forward in their assigned direction. The dirt beneath them all gave way easily, making the trudge slower than normal. People tripped on stones and overgrown tree roots, their teams coming to help them but not being able to do much about the whole... Covered in mud situation. Regardless, as they branched out more and more, the teams would soon not be able to see each other very well, mostly just being able to see distant flashlights on either side of them, moving forwards at around the same speeds. The first thirty minutes was normal. It had begun to drizzle again, but the pines provided enough shelter to prevent most of them from getting drenched.

But as they all began to near Stony River, they heard it.

A whisper at first. Unintelligible, barely audible, between the sounds of feet in the puddles and muck, between the quiet talking and breathing. It grew stronger and louder, with every step they took towards the river.

I CALL AND YOU ANSWER.
​

---

Mitena stopped in their tracks. Their body stopped listening to them. They moved their eyes, darting over to both Jeremiah and Noah. They too, had stopped, frozen in place. The flashlight fell from Jeremiah's hand suddenly, plunging into a puddle, half immersed. Mitena willed their mouth to open, to speak. Their heart was racing, panic searing through their body like a wildfire, and still, their legs and arms betrayed them. Only one sentence left their lips.

"You call and I answer."

To their shock, Jeremiah and Noah opened their mouths and echoed it back.

"You call and I answer."

Every time Mitena tried to speak, those same five words were all that would come out. And then their bodies stumbled forwards. Mitena fought it, but nothing worked. They marched forwards, horrified, only able to look through their own eyes as a passenger. Were these spirits? Demons? Gods? They felt tears welling up in their eyes. So all they could do was look and cry, huh... Stony River came into view. The trees were slightly less dense. In their peripherals, they could see others, lining up at the sinking edges of the river, rocks and wet soil lining the border. Everyone stopped, as if to gaze into the water.

Normally, the river was rushing eastbound, bending and flowing around rocks and moving with the earth. Today, it was silent. Even the raindrops did not seem to make any impact. What was more terrifying though, was the fact that they could not see the bottom, despite the stillness of it all. It was pitch black, as though the river they'd known since childhood had suddenly become a crack in the earth, an unending pit where light could not escape.

What was happening? Why was this happening? Was this what Pala had gone through? All the other missing people? The tears were streaming down Mitena's face faster now, vision blurred. Pala must have been so scared. Pala had needed them and they hadn't been there. Whatever was calling them, echoing in their brains, had taken Pala.

Their bodies lurched forwards and dropped soundlessly into the water.

 

[Kuno]

KINDRED SPIRITS
Kuno | @MaryGold

Thirty minutes earlier

Aurora was in the dark. Figuratively, literally – it used to cradle them, these velveteen nights of theirs, in its familiar embrace. Their isolation had made them feel safe, the subconscious knowledge that they were far removed from the big city their one prevailing comfort. Now the trees held secrets, and things unforeseen hid in the cloying shadows that stretched long from the deciduous canopy.

The silence at night grew more and more worrisome by the day. Jacob–bless his heart–had yet to be affected, but the tension was beginning to wear on his mother. She found herself waking up in the dark of night and going to his room, relaxing only when she saw the tiny rise and fall of his sheets. On the worst nights, she even missed the presence of another in her bed to protect them.

But hell would freeze over before she let Daniel come back home again.

She did the next thing to help assuage her worries: help in the volunteer search parties. It wasn't much. The groups hadn't found anything yet, and most nights ended sour and with more scraps of nothing. But staying involved in the community kept Abigail sane, and she'd be damned if she neglected Aurora in its most vulnerable moment.

It was something she liked to tell Victor. A lot.

"Pearl can spend the night if she's still asleep when we get back." She glanced aside at the teacher, her brow raising. He'd offered to drive to the meet up point, and she'd gladly ridden shotgun. "Just come get her in the morning."

"Thanks," Victor breathed, his shoulders sagged in relief. That was one weight off his shoulders during a night as grim as this one. "I'm sure Pearl would love spending more time with Jacob." After all, the boy was her closest friend since the disappearance of Maya amongst many other citizens in their small town.

Nothing was supposed to happen in boring Aurora, and yet there they were on a dreary, wet night, leaving their children to look for their neighbor's children, friends, family, etc. The list went on. There was no comfort with the knowledge that it was not his child when for all Victor knew, Pearl could vanish just as well.

The ride to the meetup spot was a quiet one. There wasn't very much room for small talk about the stress of mundane work and private life. The chat of ungraded papers, acting out children, and close by deadlines would have to take place another time. So, he sat in silence, only speaking when spoken to. Most days, Abigail talked enough for the both of them, but that night was one where there wasn't much to say at all.

"We're here," Victor announced, parking the car slowly and allowing himself a long breath of air conditioned air to still himself for the night ahead of him. He pulled on his paint stained raincoat with the fingerprints of a 8 year old and gathered his belongings: flashlight, batteries, water bottle … and a cross.

Agnostic at best, is what Victor told people, agnostic and teetering on atheistic. But human nature was often praying to anyone, any God, when there was nothing else they could do. Or worse, something that could not be explained.

He exited the car. From the other side came the faint sound of a tongue clicking.

"Look at this. Seems like there's less and less people everytime," Abigail complained, coming around to his side.

Not that the gathered huddle of people was anything to scoff at. But her eyes missed nothing; they never did.

Her fingers wagged in front of her, waving up and down Victor's length.

"Pearl's work?" She teased.

Victor's eyes followed her fingers to his mess of a raincoat. Despite himself, he smiled. "A real Leonardo Da Vinci, no?" He brushed his hands over the old paint as if it was an admirable piece of art.

The topic was a welcomed little distraction from the lack of participants for the search parties. "Don't tell me Jacob hasn't used any of your clothing as a canvas."

"Oh, he's certainly tried, the little monster."

The ground was a mess of gnarled roots and strewn branches. Abigail availed herself of Victor's arm.

"Speaking of little monsters, I caught you-know-who riding his bike through the neighbor's yards again. Can you imagine? I had half a mind to call his mother again but – Oh, I didn't tell you, did I? Catherine filed for divorce from Nate. Isn't that something?"

"It is indeed something," Victor mumbled more to himself than to Abigail. He didn't even bother asking where she had heard that piece of gossip. Her network was too vast to comprehend.

"I'm glad you spared the poor kid an earful with everything on top of that going."

Into the gloom, Abigail laughed. Victor knew her well.

"Yeah, I guess there's enough going around without me chewing him out…"

Ahead of them, the group drew nearer, and the short woman eyed them blandly.

"Looks like it'll be another tough night." Absentmindedly, her fingers squeezed his arm, though whether out of comfort or self-reassurance, remained to be seen.

Instinctively, Victor rested his hand over hers as an act of comfort. "Hopefully there will be something to show for it." He attempted another smile.

As they came into the group, Victor took a minute to scan the group for familiar faces. There were significantly less there now than there were the first few times, but Jeremiah was there and so was Amber. There were about the only people he knew well enough aside from Abigail and of course Mitena.

Abigail, of course, knew them all. Including a very frequently called policeman.

"Sebastian, there you are," She mused, as if the man had anywhere else to be. Her eyes lit up at her shop's mention. "The shop's just fine, thank you -- you can stop by anytime. You're more than welcome."

More unsuspecting men had been pulled in by such a harmless line. She smiled, a honeypot in disguise.

She'd get more answers out of him this time.

—---------

It had started off so simply, this search party of theirs. Familiar faces had dotted the crowd.There had been comfort in their numbers, solace in companionship. Where did it all go wrong, she wondered? When had the loving embrace of Aurora transformed into a terrifying prison?

The town she loved so dearly was dragging her into hell.

She couldn't scream. She couldn't move. Eyes half bulging out of her skull, she looked around wildly, straining to see what her immobile head would not allow. Her body moved forward mechanically, as did Victor's, and the others with them. Step by step, breath by breath. To the river they were pulled. Abigail looked frantically at Victor ahead of her. Her lips parted.

Help.

"You call and I-"

Soundlessly, her body pitched forward, entering the abyss.

 

[TerraBooma]

Amber Hartman
Supernatural Investigator, ASDC

It was grim work, traipsing through the wilderness in the same search they'd made for the past few weeks in a row. Even though they were probably different, Amber felt like she was starting to recognize all of the steps. Turn right at the busted up looking stump, keep looking past the creepy thorny patch, get really hopeful near a big puddle only to realize that the footprints belonged to a normal animal and not some monster of the week. Moreover, it didn't belong to some wayward person who'd escaped their fate and had fought through the forest. Like an old VHS tape on slow, Amber watched the forest unfold in front of her. The new coat of mystery it had gotten from the vanishing townsfolk slowly peeling back like an old veneer of paint. She'd been playing it the town's way for weeks. Deciding to pursue her own avenues of investigation independently, but how many more nights would it take to let her try her stuff? Looking around with their eyes wasn't going to get them any new clues. If there was anything physical to find, surely her dad would have found it by now.

Damn the searchline. It was time to do things the ASDC way.

"Hold it a sec. I'm going to pull out the ghost box." She held her hands up in a readied defense of an objection from Piper, and motioned to the woods around them. "We've been through this stretch a good dozen times by now. If there was a crime scene to find, standard protocol would've picked it up by now. Least we can do is exhaust all our options."

She had knelt down, speaking as she set up the ghost box and scanning the little clearing with her EMF reader. She wasn't getting any particularly impressive hits, but fine; that just meant they'd have to wait for the spirits to come to them. As she flicked it on, white noise filling the air, she looked at Piper with a desperate plea that bordered on challenging.

"When we go back there. I want to tell them I tried everything I could. It's the same for you, right? So please, just...give us ten minutes."

And with that, It was time to start. Amber was in a hurry, but she wasn't taking any chances. Making protective circles in case the spirits got antsy. Mumbling prayers to herself, and giving the others a firm nod. She clutched her salt-charm close to her chest before taking a deep breath.

"Okay! We're doing this. Spirits! Souls of the lost and forgotten. Wayward wanderers who cling to this realm. Please, speak with us! Is anyone there, Can anyone hear me! If you're from the town, please come chat! We're just hoping to make conversation. We mean you no harm. And pray you mean us none in turn. Please, take a second and speak."

One second. Then two. Amber waited for a full half minute before repeating her claim. Then...she repeated it again. She'd keep the ghost box running for as long as Piper would allow before she started looking resigned. If the Ghost Box wasn't picking up anything, she was starting to run out of tools that she could pry clues in this mystery away with. Dammit. A signifigant part of her wanted to stay out here all night if she had to- moving to different parts of the forest, trying out different parts of the area and seeing if they could get a hit. But the search parties would be wrapped before long, and then everyone would be waiting for them. As stubborn as Amber was to see this mystery closed, she didn't want the town fretting that three more of them had gotten taken in the search.

"Alright. Just let me pack up, then we can get going. I won't slow everyone do-"

Then a whisper, as faint as it could be, picked up by the edges of the wind. Amber freezes in place, motioning for the others to be quiet. It echoes again, just the tiniest bit louder. She closes her eyes, trying to find the source. Willing the static to form words. By the third time, it's loud enough to hear. Loud enough to make out.

Loud enough to know it wasn't coming from the ghost box. It was coming from their heads.

"You Call And I Answer."

It was coming from them.

To Amber's credit, she probably took getting mentally posessed by a foreign entity the best out of all of them. She had known the risks of invoking the paranormal for years now, and ghostly posession and other forms of mind control were of regular employ. As her mouth and body began to reject their master, she drew her mind inward. Crunch the numbers Amber. Think fast. The majority of possessions required outside interference, to shake, but some could be resisted. You just had to do everything you could while Pipes and Chesh-

As her eyes flicked over to the other members of her trio. As her ears registered that they had been echoing the same three words. She realized she was not the only one moving like a puppet on strings. Panic struck her mind as the entity managed to not only ensnare her, but three of them at once. Whatever it was, it had to be insanely powerful to manipulate three people at once simultaneously- her training would make it difficult to bewitch her, let alone others at the same time...

Shit. Okay. Think faster. You were the expert here. Figure it out. Identify the threat and fight back accordingly. As she started walking towards the river, she started to try and classify what could be doing this to her. A ghost? No, the salt should have prevented that. A siren? That didn't line up. A siren befuddled the mind, not the body. She was still resisting with all her might, and she felt no mental charm in effect. Whatever this was, she couldn't identify it.

"You call and I answer."

Fine, she'd just do everything then. With desperation fueling her, Amber ran through all 98 solo-possession escape exercises that she had in her arsenal. With each passing failure, she got closer to the river. With each passing second, her heart grew heavier. Was this what had bewitched Pala? Was this voice responsible for ensnaring them all? As they approached the river, she could see them. Others pitched over the side. Her eyes widened as she realized the sheer scope of what they were up against.

"You call-"

Fuck. Amber, do something. anything. there were other people here. You were supposed to be the expert. How many videos have you watched? Blogs studied with fervor? Nobody else had paid as much attention as you had to the world beyond, and yet here you were. Helpless in the hands of an entity you still couldn't define. The first clear cut encounter Amber had ever had with the paranormal, and she was blowing it. Pathetic.

"-And I answer."

This was it. She was really going over the side. Was she actually going to die here? Wait, no. She didn't want that. She didn't want to die. There was so much she still had to do. Pictures she had to take. Mysteries to be solved. Fight it. Find the source. Beat it Amber. BEAT IT!

She was at the edge. And endless abyss.

Dad. I'm sorry.

And endless abyss. Foot held out, walking into air.

I love you.

The river replaced with a deep black. She felt herself start to fall. her stomach hit her throat. Her legs did not care.

Mom? Please don't be mad.

She hurdled downwards, into the gaping maw of nothing.

I'll see you sooner than I thought I would

And then there was nothing at all. Nothing but a last call as her body swung down.

"You call. And I answer."

 

[wren.]

hh

hh

DOMINIC

It's disappointing that so much of the work to find all of these missing people has been put on the shoulders of the townsfolk. Of course, Aurora is a very small town, so it's not like they have an ample police force to investigate. Still, these disappearances have been happening for over a year now, and enough of the population has gone missing that he would have thought they could have called the FBI about it. Then again, what does he know? He's just a barkeeper. Plus, he's only a barkeeper thanks to their mayor building the town's new pub after his parents' burned down years ago. So, in a way, he's indebted to her. He can't just drag her name through the mud, even if he disagrees with how she's handled things. Really, it's the police's job to keep them safe, so he's more than justified in directing his anger toward them.

Now, here he is, standing out in the drizzling rain with other bereft and courageous (or reckless and with nothing left to lose) townsfolk to find clues about their missing loved ones. It had been difficult, but he's managed to make peace with the fact that he'll likely never see his sister again. He'd like to think that she ran away and is living a good life somewhere else, but it's not in her character to disappear without a word. Especially not a comment to him. He's had nightmares about what kind of terrible things might have happened to her, and he can only hope that at this point, she's dead, if not okay. Thinking that she might be alive somewhere being endlessly tortured makes him hyperventilate after a while, so he prefers to focus on the notion that she has passed and is in a much better place. They've lived a difficult life, so even no afterlife at all is solace. Still, he'd like to be certain of what happened to her, and he'd like to find the culprit so they can stop anyone else from disappearing.

Thankfully for him, he's familiar with most of his group members. Thanks to rampant alcoholism, running the only pub in town tends to get you acquainted with most of the inhabitants of a small town. First, there's Abigail. Although the woman is uptight and a bit of what the kids call a "Karen," Clare had always spoken positively of her, helping her around her shop and planting flowers around town. So, even if conversing with her can sometimes give him a bit of a migraine, she's alright. He learns quickly through Abigail's chatter that one of their other team members is named Victor, apparently the father of her child's friend. He greets them politely, keeping his hands firmly in his jacket pockets to keep warm. He's feeling a little ridiculous not having brought anything except himself — looking around, nearly everyone has brought along equipment to help their journey. The town ghost hunters, including his own employee Cheshire, have come very well-equipped with every ghost hunting instrument he's familiar with.

Their last member to arrive, Sebastian, is a regular at the pub and the town deputy. Although they might disagree on how much work the police are doing in the town, he's not a bad guy, and he'd been sympathetic enough when he learned of Clare's disappearance. So, he accepts the man's hug readily, thumping his head lightly in revenge for using his hated nickname. "I'm doing as well as I can be," he shrugs, then chuckles at his following comment. "No kidding. I think we could all use one. I closed the pub today for this, but if we get back at a reasonable time, I'll let you guys get a drink if you want. You still have to pay, though," he teases.

Soon enough, Mitena, today's ringleader, gives them the cue to start venturing into the woods, and he follows the herd into the dense vegetation. It's wet and slippery, and he often finds himself grappling at the trees to keep himself upright. "I should have brought better shoes," he chastises himself beneath his breath. It doesn't seem like he's the only one having issues, though, and he's quick to steady his companions as they struggle.

They proceed deeper, brandishing flashlights to ward off the oppressive darkness. So far, there's nothing of note. He's not even sure what to look for at this point. Footprints? Those could belong to anybody in town, even someone from one of these search groups. Torn articles of clothing? Dropped items? They should be so lucky. He tries to keep his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary, but all there is is trees and mud and bushes.

And a voice.

Wait, what? He's been assuming that rushing whisper was the wind, but it's louder now, and beginning to sound like an unintelligible voice. He tries to look around, but for some reason, his neck won't move. Then he halts. He doesn't mean to, but he halts. He can't move anything but his eyes. Suddenly, without his permission, he speaks. "You call and I answer." The words echo back at him, not from the wind, but from his equally horrified team members.

In unison, they begin to move, chanting that ominous phrase. He feels faint with the speed with which his pulse is racing. Guess the ghost hunters aren't paranoid, after all. Is this what killed Clare? They all near a river that is eerily still, and it's hard to tell if it's the way the shadow of the trees are falling, but it appears bottomless. Like the night sky without any stars. Out of his periphery, he can see people tipping over into it. He's going to drown. They're all going to drown.

The worst part is dying without answers, but what did he have to live for either?

「 @Kuno | @MaryGold | @MiharuAya 」

code by wren.

 

[MiharuAya]

Sebastian Chambers
Location: Woods
Interactions: Abigail @Kuno Victor @MaryGold Dominic @Jenamos
Mentions: Pala


While the general atmosphere was somber, Sebastian felt it was essential to keep people's spirits up. His opinion was that entering the woods with optimism, however naive or unlikely, would give the search party a better aura and hopefully lead to some results. Or, perhaps he simply didn't want everyone to give up without even trying.

When Dominic patted his head, he chuckled softly. "I'll hold you to that," Sebastian replied as he slipped away out of reach. As Abigail made her entrance, he waved at the pair. Although something in her tone made his hair stand on edge, he still flashed a kind grin. "Will do," His voice wavered, internally wondering if he should be worried.

Despite Sebastian's initial blase attitude, the moment that the search started he took on a much more serious attitude. He helped direct anyone who was unsure of what to do and lead the group deeper into the woods. With each step, Sebastian kept his gaze trained on the forest floor, scanning and searching for any sign of someone's trail.

After combing through the forests so many times, it felt as if he knew every inch of the place. Each bush and fallen tree was just how he remembered it. But, he still examined them all closely, desperately looking for clues.

Once the search began, Sebastian's playful mood dissipated and his expression turned serious. As the group walked in a line towards the river, he kept his gaze trained on the forest's floor. After searching it so many times, it felt as if he knew every inch of the place, but he still checked every large bush and turned over each fallen tree.

It truly was a dreadful night. As the wind whipped through the trees, its thunderous howling made it difficult to hear even the other searchers calling out for Pala. The rain had yet to cease, soaking the ground and washing away any tracks. Out of any day to go missing, tonight ought to be one of the worst. Just the thought of poor Pala out in this weather, at night and all alone was hard to imagine. Even if the odds were stacked against them, Sebastian wasn't about to lose hope. He'd stay out all night if he had to.

As they neared the turnaround spot, an eerie feeling started to tug at the back of Sebastian's mind. At first, he simply felt uncomfortable. As if a weight was sitting on his chest. But soon, a sort of shiver was crawling up his spine. Although he was feeling wholly uneasy, he still couldn't put his finger on the reason.

Just as he was about to chalk it up to wandering around in a dark forest, he stopped. His feet halted in their place, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not take another step. A wave of panic washed over him as he quickly glanced around at the others, however, everyone was also motionless.

The forest had suddenly become hauntingly quiet. They should have been well within earshot of the river by now, and yet Sebastian couldn't hear anything. Not even the pouring rain pelting their bodies made a sound. As he went to ask if his partners were experiencing the same as him, he found that his words were not his own, "You call and I answer." Sebastian was in utter shock. What is happening, he thought to himself. But, as the same words echoed all around him, it began to sound like some sort of ominous incantation.

Suddenly, he could walk again. But, his feet moved on their own, as if he was under some spell. Sebastian tried with all of his might to move his arms, use them to grasp his radio, and call for help, but it was no use. With each step, the group grew closer to the river until bodies began silently falling forward into the dark water.

Sebastian took a deep breath, but as he stepped over the edge he let his body go limp and fall. See you soon, James.

 

[Hecatoncheires]

Piper Hewlett
Exasperated Sheriff's Deputy

Interactions: @TerraBooma ​

It's not polite to roll your eyes so far back they might invert into their sockets. But God help me, that's what they're threatening to do as Amber and her friend start breaking out the spook gizmos. Unfortunately for me, the girl knows our department protocols as well as a seasoned deputy. Hell, probably better given the number of times she threatens to run afoul of them.

So against my better judgement, I find myself coming to a halt and letting my arms relax from their patrol carry stance.
"Fine. Ten minutes. And if you start throwing smoke grenades about like you did last Thanksgiving, the deal's off."

There are gizmos aplenty, and invocations that would have a Baptist minister clutching at his bible. I use the opportunity to run a few mental checks on what we've seen so far, to try and consider what we might do next if this search doesn't pan out. Maybe it's time for me to start taking some responsibility myself. I'm out here in the woods out of respect for the chain of command. The boss says hold the horses, and I've seen those horses held. But there's an old Twain quote that's been poking at the back of my head for several days now: "a man's first duty is to his own conscience and honour". When the word finally gets out and the suits come swooping in, it won't be enough for me to just stand there and tell them I was just following orders. That isn't how we do things here. People are going missing, and if Sheriff Hartman isn't going to light the signal fires himself?

Then maybe I need to make that decision for him.

Ten minutes of Amber's supernatural antics later, and even she's willing to call it quits. I resist the urge to roll my eyes again, and bring my Remmington back up from it's rest position. I'm ready to crack a joke about getting back to the actual investigative work. Which is exactly when everyone in our little stretch of the forest stops dead. Like God himself just hit the pause button. There's a buzz in the air, a hiss of static that seems to grow louder with each passing moment. Persistent, incomprehensible yet demanding to be heard. I pause mid-motion, my eyes narrowing as I focus on the sound.

In the next moment, I hear it. Fully and completely. Like the duck morphing into the rabbit. Unintelligible static morphing into crystal clear words. Crystal clear, because I'm speaking them myself.

"You call and I answer."

I blink, my head rising in surprise. That can't be right. That sound can't just have come from me. But I hear it again. It's all I can hear. It's as though we're now standing in a void, an absence, the only sound being the five words now vibrating in my ears and emerging from my mouth. Try as I might, I can't fight it. Desperately I glance to Amber, to Cheshire. But all I can see are the mouthed echoes of the words I can't stop saying either.

The fear hits me then. Right when I realise that I'm not alone in this, that this isn't some breakdown or internal crisis. Something is being done to us, and I don't know how to stop it.

In the moment after, training takes hold. Fear shifts and contorts, the rabbit morphing into the duck, becomes anger. Someone is fucking with me, and the only person who ever got away with that was my Drill Sergeant back in Basic. I clench my teeth shut, gritting them against the urge to open my mouth. I force my throat closed, straining to hold my breath, not allowing so much as a sound to escape.

For a couple seconds it works. I'm resisting.

But then I hear the words again. Rasping, guttural, making my vocal chords scream with every syllable.

"You. Call. And. I. Answer."

I'm moving now, but the movements are not my own. Someone's snatched up my strings and is marching me along in time to some deranged tune I cannot understand. My fingers slowly unweave themselves from the shotgun they grip, the weapon cast aside as I am driven onwards my silent, unseen hands.

Just before I reach the banks of the river I'm able to drive my knee down into the sodden earth, to try and regain a semblance of control. I want to stretch my arms out and grip that soft, reassuring earth like the lifeline it is, but my limbs won't obey me. Nothing will obey me. I find myself rising up, then tipping forwards into the ichor-black depths before me.

Something, someone, calls.

It is all I can do to answer.

 

[PavellumPendulum]

MITENA IRONBLANKET
Hunter, leatherworker & helicopter parent
Interactions: Abigail @Kuno
Mentions: Everyone!

The air felt like it was being ripped from their lungs. All these limbs yet none answered them, none struggled against the darkness engulfing them, swallowing them whole. Opening their eyes stung, opening their mouth burned. The pressure of the water (was it water?) around them was immense, like the space around them was trying to smash them to a pulp, erase them from the fabric of time. It would've been a more merciful death if Mitena could have thought about anything besides Pala. The searing pain grew more distant as the seconds ticked by, their senses doing them no good. This was the end. They'd failed. Returning to the earth was not something Mitena feared, but they wished they could've known with certainty that Pala had outlived them, at the very least.

They blacked out.

There was nothing awaiting them. Perhaps that was death. To be blown out like a candle in an instant, no spirits, no consciousness, no morality, no epiphany. Perhaps it was what they deserved as humans, seeing as they spent the entirety of their lives taking. When they themselves were taken, there was nothing left.

And then they convulsed. Suddenly, their body shook to life, coughing violently and nearly folding up, only unable to because of the enormous weight on their body. Panicked and disoriented, Mitena clawed at the floor beneath them, barely registering that it was not the forest ground and they were no longer underwater. It took an immense amount of energy, but fight or flight mode helped them eventually worm their way out of the stack, body heaving with exertion and gasping for air. They lost their shawl under the mountainous weight when squirming out, but they were too afraid to try and pull it out with them. They coughed, over and over, trying to get whatever was stuck in their throat out, but it did not work. Shivering in the cold air with their damp skin, finally able to start calming down now that they were no longer pinned to the floor, they flicked their eyes back to the threat.

Except there was not one.

Desks and filing cabinets surrounded them. The floor was hardwood, the unsheltered lightbulb above them flickered faintly. The scent of coffee clung to the old, peeling wallpaper. A counter with an ash tray, piles of documents and a coffee maker was behind them, with an empty water dispenser pushed close. To their right, from where they had fled, laid bodies. Mitena felt their eyes prick with tears, remorse and fear welling up in their throat, scrambling back over to shake the damp, motionless figures. They recognized the one on top, that dark hair stuck to the person's face like a second skin, their small frame splayed out but thankfully not mangled.

"Abigail?" Mitena choked out the name, their voice straining against the ache in their throat.

Exhausted but still determined, Mitena dragged the woman off of whoever was under her, which turned out to be the Deputy. If they were still alive, they did not want them to suffocate. There were more piles of people around them. Mitena counted.

Abigail. Piper. Amber. Sebastian. Noah. Victor. Jermiah. Dominic. Themselves.

Out of nearly thirty search party members, only nine of them were here, wherever they were. Their stomach lurched as they tried to stop themselves from vomiting. Shakily, they crawled over to a desk and pulled themself up, leaning on the surface for assistance, before realizing where they were.

The sheriff's office.

 

[TerraBooma]

Amber Hartman
Supernatural Investigator, ASDC

Drowning felt a lot more painless than Amber was expecting. Given what the internet had always told her about it.

Now, mind you. She wasn't expecting the endless black void she'd been thrown into to be exactly the same. But her mind wasn't doing a lot of thinking, and a lot more panicking. You fall into a river with a paralyzed body, you drown. That was just the brass tacks of it. She couldn't even hold her breath, what with the grip it had on her lungs.

That's not to say that it was painless. No, far from it. It was like being hurdled into a breezy black fireplace, the way everything burned and tumbled around her. It felt like she was being devoured by a black void. Like the darkness was hugging her and squishing her and getting tighter and tighter and like she would pop at any second.

Which in the moment, y'know. Sucked major ass. But looking back on it, Amber would remember it was not...quite drowning. It wasn't exactly right. The way she was fighting to exist. Maybe it was her brain struggling to shake off whatever ghostly possession had controlled her, but drowning was supposed to be a fight. A back and forth that slowly overwhelmed you until you were nothing but an empty husk with water in your lungs.

This was...different. Pressure that built. Steadily and steadily. Growing and growing until it threatened to pop her like a balloon. Squeezed and squeezed and-

and then she was free?

Enjoying the somewhat enviable position of 'kind of at the top of the pile but not so far up that it wasn't like you were getting squished at all' category, Amber tumbled to the floor as Abigail and Piper were dislodged from the mountain of search and rescuers. She held her head, letting out a tired sounding groan. But...groaning. She could breathe? Ghosts couldn't breathe, and she had a hell of a lot of unfinished business. Wait. Come to think of it, Ghosts couldn't vomit either. Or be buried under a pile of their fellow villagers. So she wasn't dead?

Another roil of her stomach pushed all thoughts of what had happened to her out of her mind. She instinctively darted behind the desk, reaching for the wastepaper basket that her dad always kept around to toss scraps and notes that didn't quite work out anymore. She dry heaved once, twice. Retching sounds echoing throughout her dad's office. The young adult, less seasoned than some of the others, had way less success at actually keeping her dinner down. She vomited into the basket, grateful that she'd managed to talk her dad out of one of those tacky ones with all the holes in it.

Way to go, Amber. Dad was going to kill you for sure now...

Wait, what?

As her stomach no longer had anything more to upturn, the supernatural investigator finally looks up, actually processing her surroundings. Wait. Back at the office? What was going on? But the black abyss. The calling and answering. Was it all some kind of fever dream? Even if it was, how'd it end up with everyone piled up in her Dad's office? Her mind was still whirling. Trying to figure out what was going on. Everyone that was here. What? And...where was Chesh?

Something was wrong. She needed to get it down. Make sure there was a record. Given everything that happened, memories would get distorted as people started shutting out the trauma of the supernatural- even she might not be immune, and that was with her training. Still cradling her impromptu vomit bucket, Amber pulls out a rather bent and shoddy looking voice recorder, and presses the red button on the side. It didn't light up, she had no idea if it was even working. Did it matter? Not really.

"Amber Hartman. Recording on...what day is it? Fuck it. Recording now. I." She pauses to resist a sudden urge to throw up her breakfast, Dry heaving once before gritting her teeth and pushing the feeling back down. No. No thank you, Not today body. It had to listen to Amber again, and we were done with the vomiting. "I, along with many others. Were investigating the missing persons cases of the other villagers. Spirit box session failed to rouse any spiritual connection, but secondary supernatural actions were detected." She trails off, not to retch this time, but lost in the memory of losing her body to something alien. "L...lead detective notes that disembodied voice called out and seemingly enchanted all investigators. Contemporary, Ancient, and Post-Modern enchantment resistant training all was unsuccessful, Detective suspects the involvement of unclassified and as of yet unknown creature. Running theory involves a biological offshoot of the siren. Possible descendant adapted to mountainous rivers, but lack of historical documentation makes theory unlikely." She shivered, feeling more confident the more she spoke into the small device. Piper and Sebastian would have seen her dad doing the same thing- processing the heavy facts of a hard case without actively burdening someone else with their emotions.

Like Father, like Daughter...

"Detective will continue investigation after reorienting and refocusing efforts. Primary goal remains to locate missing ASDC members. Total now..." She looks around the room, and the young girl's face melts before hardening again. "Two missing members. Amber Hartman, Aurora Supernatural Detective Club."

Amber pushes herself up using the desk, ending the recording (if it was working at all) with a practiced click of the button. She didn't have anything else. Now to analyze the room. But...she knew this room. She bugged her dad in it every day, so why did it seem off? Brushing her clothes and staggering to the back wall. She finally addresses the group.

"I...everyone okay?" She finally murmurs. Looking out over the crowd. "I..maybe Dad repurposed the room. But I don't...he wouldn't just dump us here. Not in a pile." It wasn't organized, wasn't...right. Amber looks around the office, and it was like the world was pitch shifted a few places to the left. Like her dad's office had become home to the world's newest real world-spot the difference game. As she tries to process it all, she rubs her head, god she had a killer migraine. But the weirdness of the room keep sitting at her. The big pile, falling into the abyss. She finally presses her head to the wood of the wall. Cool, Familiar. Wrong. It all burbles out into one emotionally charged phrase.

"...what the fuck?"

 

[Hecatoncheires]

Piper Hewlett
Exasperated Sheriff's Deputy

They say there's two ways you can drown.

The first is to fight it. To kick and strain, resist with every muscle of your being, hold your breath for as long as you can manage: until your lungs give out. The second is to surrender. To lie back and let it happen, inhale the water and let it seep into you, take you into it's own. By all accounts, it's a peaceful way to go.

But this? This doesn't feel like either. It feels like I'm being consumed by something.

Chewed up.

Processed.

Digested.

---

I come to like someone's just let off a gun next to my ear, a shuddering scream choking in my over-strained vocal chords before I can let it off. Within moments I'm bolt upright, scrambling, heart thumping like I've just been shot full of adrenaline, eyes sweeping about for threats even as my hand goes for my belt. That's the training at work, right there. Impulse. Muscle memory. The fear might have me, that won't stop me from putting three in the centre mass of whatever might be causing it.

As my hand comes to rest on my holster, my ears focus enough to register Mitena with their arms wrapped around the still unconscious form of Abigail Fieldman. Piece by piece, my brain starts processing things outside of raw fight or flight. It also starts processing other bodily sensations. Like the fact that I feel like I'm about to dry heave harder than a sailor the day after shore leave. Letting out a low, quiet groan, I push myself up into a kneeling position and let the wave of nausea ride itself out. From somewhere nearby, I can hear Amber muttering into her tape recorder about ghosts and sirens.

Never thought I'd find her antics as reassuring as I do right now.

The nausea dissipates. I open my eyes again, sweeping them across the nearby figures. Nine people, a little under a third of the group that ventured out into the woods earlier, before we all...

My mind races, trying to fill in the gaps and failing. Square pegs attempting to pass through round holes. I went into that river. I remember it vividly. So by rights I should be floating belly-up further downstream right now, not standing around in... my office? I blink. Slowly. Deliberately. As though trying to clear my eyes. When they re-open, the sight is still the same. Same stained plasterboard and cheap wooden panelling, same row of desks where us deputies spend hours trapped in paperwork hell. Same door to the Sheriff's Office--

--wait.

No.

That's not right.

My face furrowing itself deeper into a frown, I rise on unsteady legs and stumble over to the doorway. Running my hands across the nameplate that should spell out 'SHERIFF HARTMAN'S OFFICE' in hand printed lettering. Instead my fingers brush cold metal. Suddenly the room is... off, somehow. Like one of those 'Spot The Difference' puzzles, the differences are leaping out now. Altered fabrics on the chairs. Pristine surfaces that ought to have familiar coffee stains and scratches upon them. I reach my own desk with my jaw already tensing, pull the drawer where I keep my personal effects. Inside sits my constant workplace companion, that same shitty coffee mug with the Seattle PD patch printed on it that I've had with me for years.

That same shitty coffee mug that had been reduced to powdered ceramic shards after I hurled it against the wall of Interview Room 2 yesterday morning, right after I concluded my interview with Mrs Wormald.

Before I'm even fully conscious of it, my sidearm is un-holstered and in my hands. I'm sweeping the room now like it's one of the killhouses they trained us to clear back in Kosovo.
"Deputy Chambers," I hiss across the room to the only other member of my department I have present, "get your ass up and un-holster your weapon."

 

[MiharuAya]

Sebastian Chambers
Location: Police Station
Interactions: Piper @Hecatoncheires Victor @MaryGold
Mentions: Amber @TerraBooma


As Sebastian's body fully submerged under the murky water, he was instantly struck by the bone-chilling coldness that enveloped him. Even as he tried to fight, he was helpless as he slowly sunk to the bottom. It was as if the water had grabbed hold of him, causing his limbs to grow unmovably heavy as he was dragged down into the darkness.

With burning lungs, he finally took a desperate gasp. However, as his lungs filled with water, he fell unconscious.

~~~~~​

"Deputy Chambers, get your ass up and un-holster your weapon." The familiar voice of Deputy Hewlett rang in his ears, causing Sebastian to stir. Sebastian suddenly lurched forward, violently coughing the water out of his lungs. With each breath he wheezed, spitting up more water until his airway was finally clear. "Wha-? What's going on?" He questioned wearily, his throat raw. "Is anyone hurt?" He asked on instinct.

While he rubbed his face, he glanced around surprised to see that they were no longer in the forest. The smell of stale coffee and cigarettes, along with that damn flickering light made it easy for Sebastian to recognize his surroundings. They were at the police station, but how exactly they had all ended up there was the real mystery.

It seemed that he wasn't the only one who was disoriented. As he listened to Amber ramble into her tape recorder, which he wondered if it even still worked, the girl seemed frazzled to say the least. Though, he supposed they all were.

The more that he looked around, he realized that quite a few people still lay unconscious on the ground. This triggered his rescue response, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. He remarked, "I don't see an active threat," as he passed Piper. "I'm going to check on the others." Sebastian wasn't one to draw his gun over just anything, and at this point, making sure that everyone was breathing was more important.

As Sebastian leaned down next to Victor, he put his fingers on his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the soft pulse against his fingertips. "Hey, Victor? Can you hear me?" Sebastian spoke loudly, shaking the other shoulder gently. "Don't make me give you mouth to mouth," He teased, hoping to get the man to wake up.