Ezra followed Jon around the apartment as he set up the equipment. Eve watched from the kitchen counter with Harvey, where she’d sat to observe the progress.

Jon turned to Ezra, camera and voice recorder in hand. “Can you put this in the kitchen? Pick a spot that’s open on most sides and close to the living room.”

Ezra nodded and took the voice recorder. He looked around the kitchen, glancing at Jon, who moved over to the small table next to the door and carefully placed the camera on it. As he leaned over to check the angle and adjust it as he saw fit, Ezra placed the recorder on the kitchen table, right in the middle.

“Should I turn it on?” he asked, turning.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Jon said.

“Won’t it run out of battery overnight?” Eve asked.

“Nah, it’s designed for this kind of thing. It can run for nearly 24 hours. Same for the camera.” Jon waved his hand in front of the camera once more, and he grinned up at Eve when she waved, too.

He straightened and stepped back over to his bag. From it, he pulled a heavy-looking box and hauled it over to the table. Ezra trailed him again, and when Jon started plugging cables into the box, he handed a bundle of them to Ezra to hold.

“This is a spirit box,” Jon said as he set it up. “It emits radio waves that a spirit can use to ‘speak’ if they aren’t able to manifest enough to do so on their own.” He looked down at the box, squinting at it and the last two cables he held. Ezra leaned over the box and scanned the cables. “I think…this one?” he said, pointing to something on the back. Jon plugged it in and lit up when it fit perfectly.

“Thank you,” he said. “The goal is to record whatever sounds a spirit might make with those radio waves,” he continued as he finished up. “Though, considering how strongly your ghost can manifest, I’m not sure we’ll need it.”

Eve pursed her lips. Jon dug through his bag once more and pulled out the hand-scanner thing again, along with a small device that looked like a Gameboy.

“EMF meter,” he said, holding up the Gameboy-thing. “It detects changes in electromagnetic fields. Ghosts and spirits can disturb and emit EM radiation, but so can appliances, cell phones, stuff like that. This model filters out the most common frequencies from man-made sources.”

“Huh,” Eve said. Jon set the EMF meter on the table and held up the thermometer in front of himself.

“Now that the stationary equipment is set up, I’ll check for any cold spots in the apartment. They’re not conclusive proof of a ghost, but sometimes if one tends to linger in one spot, or follow a set path, it can give us insight into what the ghost wants.” He began walking around the apartment, turning left and right to look for said cold spots. He hummed as he walked, seemingly captivated by his findings.

After a few minutes, he walked back into the kitchen, focusing on the display of the thermometer. “There are a few cold spots that seem significant. One is in your bedroom, Eve. Another is right here,” he said, stepping over to an open spot between the TV and the kitchen table. “And,” he said, turning and pointing the thermometer at Eve, “around you.”

Eve stared at him, the perpetual chill making her shiver as a small layer of dread settled over her.

“Me?” she said. “What does that mean?” She slipped off the counter.

“Hard to say conclusively,” Jon said. He bit his lower lip in concentration and switched out the thermometer for the EMF meter. “Let me check again for variations in the EM field. We’ll see if the cold spots match up with any.”

He paced the same path he’d taken before, this time with the EMF meter in hand. When he made it back to Eve, and the lights along the side of it flashed at her the way they had at the other cold spots, he lowered it.

“Do you have your phone on you?” he asked. Eve shook her head and glanced at it, over on the kitchen table. Jon hummed and circled her with the meter, the lights flashing over and over again. Eve stood still and let him, making eye contact with Ezra across the island.

Without warning, Jon poked her arm, hard.

“Ow, what the fuck?” she said.

He squinted at her. “Are you alive?” he asked. Eve suppressed the desire to call him a dumbass.

“Yes,” she said instead, only looking at him like he was a dumbass.

He leaned back and cupped his chin. “Are you sure?”

“Last time I checked, I was.”

Jon didn’t seem to hear the icy annoyance in her voice. “Hmmm. That’s odd. Could you move over to the living room?”

Eve stalked over to the living room, trailed closely by Harvey. She stood in front of the couch and waited for Jon to scan her again. The same thing happened with the flashing lights, and Eve threw her hands up.

“Is your thing broken?” she asked.

He tapped it and looked it over. “I don’t think so. It seems like you’re a focal point for the ghost to manifest around. I wanted to check in here because there wasn’t a cold spot here before, or any odd variations in the EM field, so we know that the ghost is following you. It seems to be latched onto you.”

“How is that possible?” Ezra asked, his face drawn tight with concern A terrible thought crept into Eve’s brain and settled dreadfully in her chest. She hoped very much that the answer would have nothing to do with henges and screams and runes.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“My first thought was the Eve was the ghost,” Jon said.

“I’m not!”

“I know.” Jon looked closely at her again, as if inspecting her. Eve scoffed and sat down on the couch. Harvey jumped immediately onto her lap and began to knead. “But if you’re not the ghost, then that means the ghost has somehow latched onto you. She’s able to manifest so strongly and frequently because she’s drawing energy from you.” He stepped back and put down the EMF meter. “Have you picked up anything recently that could have allowed her to latch onto you? You never knew her, right?”

“Like a cursed necklace or something?” Eve asked, voice sharp and derisive in the wake of the Terrible Thought. “No, only beach rocks. And no, I never knew her.”

Jon looked at her. “Hmmm.” He stared at her for another moment. “Okay,” he said finally, shrugging.

Eve narrowed her eyes. Jon didn’t seem the type to give up easily. The apartment was quiet for a moment. Ezra stood near the table, hands clenched into fists and staring at Eve.

In the quiet, the Terrible Thought poked its stupid head up and demanded her attention.

“Y’all wanna get a pizza or something?” she asked, to block it out.

“Do you ever eat any actual food?” Ezra asked. “Or do you only subsist on caffeine and carbs?”

Eve glared at him. “Pizza is actual food.” Then she gestured to Jon. “Plus, our consultant wants pizza. We can’t say no.”

“We do need energy for tonight,” Jon added, winking at Ezra and smirking at Eve. She blinked, unamused, as Ezra spiraled into nervous fidgeting.

“Fine,” he said after a moment, “but I’m vegetarian.”

“Sounds good, no meat,” Jon said.

“All pizza is good pizza,” said Eve.

Twenty minutes later, the heavenly scent of bread and cheese filled the apartment. They ate and chatted for a few minutes, Harvey sniffing around the box until Eve pushed him away with her foot.

“Damn,” she said suddenly to Jon, “we never told you about the weird shit.” She paused and squinted. “Well, the weirder shit.”

Ezra frowned, confused. “What weird stuff?”

“Chelsea’s weirdo boyfriend and his werewolf theory, for one,” Eve said.

Jon leaned forward. “Werewolf theory?” he said.

Eve waved a hand. “It’s stupid. Kyle, Chelsea’s boyfriend, does not act like someone whose girlfriend’s body just washed up on the beach. He hit on me the same day, not even hours after I found her.”

“Yikes.”

Eve started to continue when the living room lamps flickered and the pizza box jiggled. Eve rolled her eyes, Jon watched intently, and Ezra looked around the room with a worried sort of set to his face.

“Anyway,” Eve continued, “after I found the body, Kyle told me about his stupid werewolf theory.” She side-eyed Ezra. “Which is stupid.” Ezra did his best attempt at an innocent expression, but Eve narrowed her eyes at him. “And he asked me specifically if she’d been bitten—“

“Which she was,” Ezra said.

“Sure. But he didn’t know that. And I didn’t tell him. That’s important.”

“Okay,” Jon said.

“He started saying she’d gone missing on a full moon. He wanted me to believe his theory, and that I’d told him she had bite wounds.”

“Which he should have only known about if he’d seen the body before the police got to it,” Ezra said.

“Or killed her, and tried to make it look like a werewolf,” Jon said. “Maybe Kyle is the werewolf,” he continued, liked he’d had a revelation.

Eve sighed. “What makes you think anyone is a werewolf and that this isn’t a delusional guy trying to shift the blame for his crime?”

Ezra fidgeted and avoided her eyes. “I’ve reported on some strange occurrences on full-moon nights,” he said. “People have seen an animal running away from town, the Fridley’s chickens were killed one time. Also, howling.”

“That’s probably a fox,” Eve said.

“Howling? And on the full moon?” Jon asked. “Sounds like a werewolf to me.”

Eve stared off to the side in exasperation. “Is there something in the water here?” she asked them. “Some weird-ass ergot-infected-rye delusion?”

Jon blinked at her. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“Ergot poisoning happens when people ingest grains that have been infected with a fungus,” Ezra said. “There’s a theory that infested rye caused the Salem witch trials because it can cause hallucinations. But also it’s a pretty nasty infection with gangrene and…bleh.” He grimaced.

Eve gestured towards Ezra and nodded.

“I don’t think we grow rye in this area,” Jon said.

Eve fully closed her eyes and pressed her hands against her temples for a second. “That is not the point.”

“And that theory has gotten a fair amount of criticism from historians,” Ezra said.

“That is also not the point. Look, ignore the werewolf theory for now.” Eve sat back. “Think about Kyle. He one thousand percent killed Chelsea.”

Ezra swallowed thickly and set down his plate. “Maybe,” he said quietly. He kept his eyes down. “You know, it’s weird. With her ghost around, it almost feels like she’s still…” He stuttered on the last word and quickly glanced up at the air. A gentle breeze passed Eve and Ezra blinked as it reached his face. His eyes filled with tears, and Eve looked away.

They sat for a moment in silence.

After a minute, Jon held up a pack of cards and wiggled it. “Anyone up for a game?”

***

By midnight, Eve’s cheeks ached from smiling. She pushed her mouth into a frown and shifted. Ezra kept sneaking looks at Jon when he thought no one was paying attention, and Jon was blatantly looking at Ezra, though Ezra didn’t seem to get it. Eve wanted to die.

Except she was having fun. Jon was funny and easy-going, and Ezra was sweet and earnest in a way that Eve found less annoying the longer she spent with him.

Chelsea was being quiet, too. Occasionally the lights would flicker, or Harvey would meow at the air or walls. Once, Chelsea pushed the scattered playing cards into a neat pile for Eve to pick up from the floor. If she was always like that, Eve thought, it wouldn’t suck so much. What would Chelsea have been like, she wondered, if they’d ever met? If they’d been real roommates? Would she have been as annoying alive as she was dead? Or was it only the limitations of her link to Eve that made her frustrated and annoying?

The thought made Eve’s chest feel sort of tight and squeezed, so she stopped thinking about it.

Eventually, Eve and Ezra ended up on the couch, while Jon sat on the floor and talked about some of the previous investigations he’d been on.

Eve yawned so wide her jaw cracked, and she winced, rubbing at her cheek. Harvey bumped his head into her calves and meowed, looking up at her.

“I think Harvey wants you to go to bed,” Ezra said, smiling softly at the cat, who was head-butting Eve with more force now.

Eve breathed out a short laugh. “I think you’re right,” she said, yawning again. She could barely hold her eyes open. “But why am I so tired? When did I become an old person?”

“It is nearly 2:00 in the morning,” Ezra said.

“See?” Eve gestured at Ezra. “Old person.”

He frowned at her, an exaggerated expression that he soon dropped for a smile. “You’re the one who needs 5 coffees and 3 energy drinks a day to function.”

Eve stretched backward. “Not normally. I’ve just been so exhausted lately, and no amount of sleep or caffeine seems to help.”

Jon snorted, and Eve looked over at him, sprawled out on the floor with a couch pillow under his head. “And you have no idea why that might be?”

Eve paused for a second, and then realization hit. Chelsea was using her as a battery, and Eve was running out of juice. She scowled at the air and crossed her arms. “This is stupid,” she said. “Has she done anything so far?”

Jon sat up. “Nothing we haven’t seen before.” He rubbed at his face. “I don’t know why. She’s obviously able to manifest, so we should be seeing activity.”

Eve sighed and leaned back against the couch.

“Do you think it’s because we’re watching?” Ezra asked. Eve closed her tired eyes, and his and Jon’s voices faded to murmurs, blending into a low burble.