Ghost Thing had a decent Saturday going, but he skipped breakfast and the craving of hunger tugged at his insides– even in his water elemental form which possessed no stomach!– so he wondered if there was anyone around that could provide a meal out in the open for Ghost to sample. It only took a few minutes to find a building housing a catering business so Ghost assumed a large kitchen like that wouldn’t mind (or even notice) a few food items gone missing.

There were some logistics around getting food from such an establishment, though. He needed to be human to eat, but he needed to be Ghost Thing to get inside to get to food. He wasn’t going to transform back into human to wolf down the foodstuffs and then dash because that was an easy risk of being found out.

So after confirming that the catering kitchen had food lain around, Ghost entered through an open window, took a bunch of sandwiches and vegetables, stuck them in a paper bag, and then dropped the bag out the window on the top of a recycling bin. He left the building, grabbed the bag (hoping the drop didn’t mix things up to much), and then climbed up the steel staircase to the roof, trying to be silent so that no person around heard him get away.

He hopped across rooftops looking for a bulkhead. He found one but when he went to turn the bulkhead’s knob, it was locked. Ghost wouldn’t put up a fight. He found another bulkhead on a building a couple spots away and tried its door. The knob turned. Ghost slowly opened the door and peaked inside to the top of a stairwell. No noise. No security cameras.

So after double checking nobody was around, Ghost Thing returned to his human form and looked into his bag at his sandwiches. Some of the bread got toppled off but nothing Kay couldn’t fix. He sat down against the wall, but fixed a salmon sandwich by sticking a slice back on top, and got eating.

“Mmmm...!”

He made the right choice by choosing to sample a catering kitchen. The salmon salad’s flavour was strong but there was an herbal tone to balance things out and the texture wasn’t too runny nor was it too dry. He got a few of the sandwiches so he ate quick, gobbled down the vegetables, and then got up to leave. There wasn’t a garbage can around, so he left the bag by the wall. Whoever found it wouldn’t have known it was him.

Switching back into Ghost Thing, he went out into the day and rollicked around the rooftops again. They said not to swim or do any kind of athletic activity thirty minutes after eating, but if one turned into a magical figure of living water that had no digestion, did that make Ghost immune? He had to wonder.

So Ghost travelled across the canopy of Toronto. Maybe being a water elemental changed Ghost Thing’s relationship with weather and atmosphere but he couldn’t find a grey sky to be that ugly anymore, at least not with a rainfall earlier that afternoon washing the tops of every building around. The humid air felt inviting to him. It felt like it was his zone.

I can’t believe I thought about giving this up, thought Ghost Thing.

There wasn’t a part of him that could seriously consider he was in danger. Sure, last Friday his patrol was sabotaged by that blue-skinned woman, but that had to be a fluke. Ghost thought, That gang isn’t going to send someone after me a second time, right?

But as Ghost Thing romped around the east side of downtown, strange eyes were upon him. When he hopped across Jarvis St, his purple form stood out against the dull clouds above and many saw him plainly; including Isaac, a tightened thumb-breaker that Ghost Thing had fought with before. Isaac knew what to do: he found a quiet spot down in a nearby park and pulled out his cellphone to give Dead Head the news.

Hustler Petrov was the one Dead Head sent after Ghost Thing this time. With explicit direction to eliminate the kid.

It took twenty minutes for Petrov to arrive in the area. Hiding in the shadows, he spotted Ghost Thing skipping from one building to the next. It was time to go to work.

Ghost Thing traversed the sky like a ninja across the roofs of ancient Japan. At least, he thought so, based on his rudimentary knowledge of “ninja-era Japan”, as he called it. It got him speculating on who throughout history could have had special powers like him. If people could get them at random, who were the lucky devils?

Were ancient conquerors secretly psychic power wielders? There was Alexander the Great and Frederick Barbarossa. His speculation was brief because Ghost Thing reached the end of his list of historical figures, a consequence of all he knew about history being Age of Empires campaigns.

Ghost got lost in thought as he flew across the lid of his fair city, but as he landed on the top of a multi-storey gymnasium, something struck his eye.

Standing on the other side of the rooftop, there was a man. Dressed in a fancy, antiquated suit and holding a cane, it was Hustler Petrov. A big smile stretched across his shadowy face.

“Greetings, Ghost Thing,” said Petrov in his dignified tone.

Ghost Thing stopped, unsure what to say. He hardened his stance. “Wh... who are you?”

Petrov tented his hand on his chest. “My name is Hustler Petrov. I represent a group that you’ve been interfering with in recent times.”

Just like that, someone came out and said it. Another one of the gang members had come to Ghost Thing. Ghost looked around the area, the dozen rooftops around and strategised escape plans had he a need to scram. The pang of anxiety burned within him, but he kept his cool as best as he could; despite his carefree attitude just earlier, he had been mentally preparing for this moment over the last couple days.

“Who are you?” asked Ghost. Being that he handed that question to a man that looked to be made of pure midnight, he rephrased it so direct it at what he needed to know. “Who are you guys?”

Petrov took the cane to his chin and let out a pronounced “Hmmmm” before shrugging. “My honour decrees that I be honest with my opponents.” His eyes turned red and he smiled wide, teeth like jagged mountains. “But my professionalism decrees I lay away all that and get the job done!”

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He lunged at Ghost Thing, literally flying across the ground with stray pieces of paper kicked up by the gust. He gripped his cane, ready to strike.

So then was the question: would Ghost Thing fight or flee? He had only a brief moment to take a centring breath inside him, but the moment passed and Hustler Petrov was within range. The villain took a swipe at Ghost. No problem for the water lad. He took a brisk back step and dodged the attack but then Petrov waved the cane back again and a fan of darkness fired out the tip. Ghost took another backstep but the sheet of black grew longer than Ghost Thing expected and bladed his torso.

“Ah!”

The darkness faded and Ghost patted his shirt checking to see if the abyssal magic harmed him in some way. There was an acute pain and numbness where the supernatural fan collided but nothing more. Ghost worried, though, that the dark wave’s effects lingered inside him.

He scowled at Petrov. “What does that do?”

Petrov propped his hands on the cane and amused his face. “Now now, if I told you where would the fun in that be?”

Things were looking like it was a good time to scram. For all the fighting prowess that Ghost had displayed, Petrov was looking very confident and competent in a way that Ghost wouldn’t be able to match. Maybe those martial arts lessons were a good idea, after all.

There was a tower nearby, one that having construction work done on it. On a single floor, the windows were removed around its outside, at least as far as Ghost Thing could see.

So the water lad took off, racing to the building and using his slimeball form to fire him up into the open sides. It was a jump about three metres in height but Ghost landed inside the place, reforming into his humanoid shape and looking back to see if Petrov was going to follow.

Not two seconds after Ghost Thing got up there, Petrov came firing up– a jump that had to be assisted with some supernatural means– doing a sideways twirl before he landed like he was a circus performer.

Ghost Thing was struck with worry.

Petrov chuckled, the rumble as deep as it was menacing. “Trying to leave the stage before the scene is done...” He wagged a gloved finger at Ghost Thing. “A coward’s behaviour.”

Ghost was in it now. He thought about what he could do, and tried to be subtle as he looked around for something to throw at the guy or a hole to escape within. Petrov took slow steps forward and Ghost took slow steps back.

There was a crowbar resting by a column. Ghost got a look at it as quick as a blink but kept his hand ready to grab it just as he passed it by. Once it was within reach, he snatched it and whipped it at Petrov. The shadow man knew the manoeuvre was coming and dodged the bar of metal with little effort. Almost out of frustration and insult, Ghost hopped forward at Petrov and took a swing at him. Ghost’s watery knuckle knocked Petrov’s cheek but that didn’t slow the man down.

Petrov took another swipe at Ghost, dark light blurring out of the curve of his cane, but Ghost dodged it. He wouldn’t be cursed by that wicked magic again!

But then Petrov charged a knee to Ghost Thing’s face and tossed the boy across the ground.

Ghost groaned and leaned up, stroking his face. His voice churned with anger. “What are you?”

Petrov presented his form to Ghost, holding his hands up to his sides and standing up straight. “Sorry, my friend. But there’s no encyclopedia around that contains an entry on me.” He looked over the liquid humanoid before him, analyzing Ghost Thing’s translucent body and his basic attire, all given a purple hue. In fact– although Petrov heard about it from Thrash– Ghost Thing had recognize that Ghost had a similar aesthetic to Haze. “Though... I wonder if there could be an entry on your types.”

Was Ghost Thing going to have to fight for his life? Over the last couple days, he had told himself he could battle, but Petrov clearly knew how his way around a quarrel and who knew what kind of powers he had up his fancy sleeves? Ghost Thing’s will shuddered.

“Listen...” he said, getting up, “I’m sorry about busting those robberies. I didn’t know I was interfering with your gang. I won’t do it again.”

A surrender, was it? Petrov was surprised, but wasn’t sure it mattered. Petrov had his orders and if he came back without splatting the walking puddle that was Ghost Thing, well, Dead Head might have had a serious problem with that.

“You’ll have to forgive me, droplet,” said Petrov, “but my charge is to eliminate you and I always follow my charge.”

Ghost Thing gulped. It looked like he wasn’t going to get out of that one easy. He kept an eye out for some sort of crack or small exit he could escape through, and he assumed Petrov couldn’t follow him. Though, Ghost Thing wasn’t sure about Petrov’s powers. Had he seen them all?

Petrov ran up to Ghost and took another swing of his cane at the water lad. Ghost dodged out of the way and had the foresight to duck under the left hook that Petrov tossed just after. It was an opening, so Ghost Thing bolted his stance down and took a hard punch up at Petrov, landing a blow hard enough to topple the dapper sorcerer.

Maybe Ghost Thing should have put up more fight and less flight!

Petrov steadied his feet, straightened his hat, and let out a chortle. “I must say... you are putting up quite the struggle for someone described as a ‘wimpy waterbag’.”

“Why don’t you just give up, then?” asked Ghost Thing, tightening his wrists.

Petrov smirked. “Come now. I was merely commenting on your endurance. This was not a surrender.”

And with a thrust forward as quick as a knife, Petrov charged at Ghost. Ghost tried to side-step out of the way but Petrov swiped his cane at Ghost and cut the water lad across the shoulder with another blade of darkness. Ghost fumbled away, checking his shoulder. There was pain, but Ghost Thing worried about effects that were unseen.

Can I beat this guy? Ghost wondered to himself. How do I beat this guy? What is he? Does he even hurt? Can he die?

There was a part of him that still wanted to fight and try and defeat his opponent, but Ghost knew that trying to escape was the smarter, safer tactic. He saw a hole on the roof by a column. It was large enough for him to slip up into, but far too small for a regular sized person to follow.

Petrov saw what Ghost was looking at and when the liquid creep ran over to leap up into the opening, Petrov reached out his hand and from it opened a hole on his palm. Like his other attacks, dark light emerged and the hole sucked in the environment around it with a loud woosh.

It was powerful enough to force Ghost to cling onto the aperture to hold on and the ferocity of the pull only got worse as Petrov took steps closer. Water lifted off of Ghost Thing’s body and rained into the coin-sized abyss.

Ghost had no idea what was going on until he looked back and saw a darkened tornado spinning around Petrov’s hand– at least, that’s what it looked like for someone on the receiving end of the spell. He could feel the watery surface on his face being tugged into the spiral. Ghost forgot about trying to hop up into the hole and refocused his energy on backing away from Petrov.

But for every step Ghost took away from Petrov, Petrov took one forward.

“You won’t escape me,” shouted Petrov over the roar of his windy chaos, “Not like Thrash, you will not escape me!”

Ghost Thing could see the water rip off his body. He was losing his essence and with every drop of water that left him, he became that much more unable to resist the suction of the shadow man’s sorcery. Ghost had to think fast, but looking around, there was no other escape and no weapon to toss at him!

“N-no!” said Ghost.

Was this it? Was Ghost Thing going to be extinguished by a strange demon guy in a mid-construction floor of a skyscraper?

“Your time is up, Ghost Thing,” said Petrov. He let out a sharp laugh to ring over the churn of his black hole, but the laugh was cut short when an arc of lightning crashed across the floor and hit the man on his shoulder and waist, cutting his cyclonic wizardry and causing him to yelp in pain, clutch his arm, and look over to see what threw lightning at him.

A voice echoed across the concrete walls, “You’re not wiping out anyone today, demon man.”

And who was it, with light shining around her like heaven’s beacon?

Petrov groaned. “Lady Beat...”

Lady Beat. The urban knight took loud steps out onto the floor and stared down at Petrov with a confident smile.

It was looking like Hustler Petrov was not going to be able to finish his mission.