We knew who it was. Some bitter girl who died on her wedding day was going around killing women for. . . reasons. I slid an earbud into my ear with my left hand as my right hand held onto the wheel so I could easily hold a conversation with Jack on the move. I pulled into the old, nearly empty, gas station and hastily parked, my car taking up two spaces. I got out and ran in in a near panic, almost running into the dirty glass door in my haste to find the ghost. I stepped in, looking around like a madman. There was one short and wide man behind the counter that looked like he was asleep, his eyes closed and his bushy mustache trembling with every breath. He wouldn't try to stop me if I took an entire shelf and drove off.

I looked over the isles and ran throughout the store, finding nothing but mold and dirt. There was a back, near the refrigerators there was a door that said "Employees Only" right next to the bathroom that I wouldn't have gone into if someone had paid me. I tried the handle to find it locked. "Let's hope they don't take security very seriously," I muttered as I dropped into a squat. My knees were not touching that floor. I pulled my paperclips out of my pocket, one already straightened out and the other already shaped as a turning tool. I put the turning tool in at the bottom, putting a slight rotational force on it with my thumb before coming in with the straight paperclip to set the pins. It was a standard lock and it popped open fairly quickly, turning with a faint click and swinging open.

"Did you say something?" Jack asked in my ear. I had forgotten he was still on the call.

"No. . . Any ideas on what to do when we find her?" I said. Then I realized that she must have heard I was looking for her by now and would probably be paranoid about getting caught. She didn't know what I could do, just like I don't actually know what she can do except for brutally murder every new moon.

"Nothing yet," Jack said. I heard a typing on his computer like he was trying to find something. That wasn't any of my business though.

"I'm going radio silent, she might be close," I said before rising from a deep squat to a prepared crouch. I pushed the door open the rest of the way to reveal a squat room, well maintained unlike the rest of the place, with a mini fridge and a small round table, a microwave sitting on top of the humming mini fridge and a bottle of Cholula sitting on the deep grey table. No ghosts revealed themselves, especially not any in wedding dresses. "Shit," I muttered.

I stepped out and locked the door behind me, taking a deep breath and holding it in preparation to search the last place I could in this place. To be completely fair, the bathroom is a genius place to hide from the living. Ghosts can't smell and you could just close your eyes to shut out the disgust. I stepped into the bathroom, glad I was prepared for the absolute hell beyond those doors.

It looked like a terrorist attack had hit one of the toilets, excrement coating a dripping ceiling and the floor wet with urine. Even holding my breath I almost retched at the sight of it. I stepped slowly onto the slippery floor, hoping that the liquid on the floor wouldn't be deep enough to get my socks wet. It was shallow enough that the soles of my shoes were thick enough to prevent any of the piss from getting on my feet, but it was way deeper than it should have been. Shouldn't there be a drain or something in here? I thought as I slowly moved over to the first stall, trying not to splash or make too much noise. Unfortunately, with this kind of environment it was near impossible to be quiet.

I pushed the door open, revealing one of the most disgusting toilets I had ever laid eyes on, but no ghost. The next one revealed more of the same, and the last stall had a broken toilet bowl. The good news was, I was pretty sure I found the reason for all of the water on the floor, as this toilet continuously drained disgusting water onto the tile. Still nothing though, just a drain in the corner blocked off with a wad of wet toilet paper. People are disgusting.

I was going blue in the face from holding my breath so I started walking out, slowly letting my breath go as I did. I closed the door behind me and waited another moment for the smell to dissipate before I took in some air, my face regaining color as the world rocked for a moment in the sudden influx of oxygen.

"I can't find her," I said loud enough for Jack to hear me. "This is the last place I saw her and she's gone. Our best bet is probably still just to find the next victim. Any leads on that yet?"

"No, I don't really know how to build a criminal profile and the police don't have all the information we do. I would say it's a dark skinned girl, young and pretty, but Kaylyn sort of breaks that mold. She was older, white, blonde, and short. Something none of her other victims were. I think this is more complicated than we think it is," Jack explained.

"Wonderful," I said sarcastically. "I'll head back, we need every hand on deck for this. We have to find her."

"Alright. Anything else we could do to find her? There isn't a pattern I can find, not with only three data points at least," Jack asked.

"I don't know. Keep looking, keep thinking of things we could do once we find her. We have twenty two days until the next death," I reminded him.

"Alright. See you soon." Jack hung up the phone and I put my earbud back in it's case before walking out much less hurriedly than I had entered, the bell atop the door jingling lightly without disturbing the sleeping man with his feet on the counter.

"Of course she's gone, I've been out all damned day," I muttered as I unlocked my car and got in, taking the time to crank my windows until they were all the way down before driving off this time. The warm wind whipped my face as I picked up speed on the way out to the hotel, our newfound base of operations. I drove as fast as I could, sending my car barreling into it's limited speed capacity. I started easing pressure on the gas when the car started shaking violently. I couldn't do much of anything after a violent car crash because I couldn't just take another minute to get to the unopened hotel.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

As I drove I thought. What do we do? There's nothing we can do. Even if we did find out who the next victim is, which is unlikely, what would we do, warn them? "Oh hey, a ghost is going to try to kill you. If you feel the sudden urge to explode and have your eyes burned out don't." The fuck was that going to do? Maybe Kaylyn just needed to be remembered, not avenged.

I pulled into the parking lot, not worrying at all about my parking as I threw the vehicle into park and pulled the e-brake as I pulled out the key with a resounding noise unlocked the car doors for me to escape. I quickly pressed the key fob twice to lock the car behind me as I pulled on a backpack and walked into the building, right to the elevator where I pushed the up arrow and waited while bouncing lightly on my toes.

The door slid open to release the sound of a slow, methodical violin solo that made me think of a surgery for some reason. I stepped into the cold metal box, my haggard appearance staring back at me through the shining metal wall of the moving box. It felt like solitary confinement.

"Why would I think that, I've never been to prison," I said, taking a step back. My mind was falling apart, I was not equipped to handle being awake all night and all day.

The door opened soon after, but I hesitated to turn and walk out. I gazed at my reflection for a moment that stretched into eternity before I turned and walked out of the doors before they could close in on me again. The room number glared down on me as I slid my key card into the slot and pushed open the door. Jack wasn't in the general area, but he clearly had been recently. It wasn't as much of a mess as I had left it, although papers were still found in places around the room they seemed to have an order to them, and all of the papers had some sort of writing or drawing on them.

"Jack?" I yelled searchingly into the space as I reached for an energy drink. We were almost out already. If we continued with at this pace until the next murder we'd need two more cases.

"Conrad?" Jack yelled from the bathroom. I heard the faint sound of flushing and running water as I moved over to the couch, sitting down and leaving enough room for Jack to get back to his spot on the couch where he had clearly set up a system, though God only knows what it was. A moment later Jack came out of the bathroom and out into the general space, taking a seat on the couch where I had left him space.

He sat down and seemed to produce a tall can from nowhere, taking a sip before allowing it to disappear into a surprisingly secure fold in the couch. "Think of anything?" I asked after I noted that he had swallowed his mouthful of drink before I took a pull on mine.

"No, you?" he rebutted.

I shook my head as I swallowed. "Nothing. I haven't got a damned thing."

"Just knowing isn't good enough. Not for me and it better not be enough for you," Jack said vehemently.

"What are we supposed to do, Jack? She's dead, we can't do anything to her," I told him. I felt a tear fall from my eye and roll down my face. "I. . . I don't. . . I don't know what's best, Jack. Maybe the best we can do is just remember Kaylyn for who she was."

Jack's face went red. "You think we just leave it alone? Let more people die? Coworkers? Family? Is that girl down the street not important just because we didn't want to even try?" Jack said with barely restrained rage lacing his voice.

"That's not what I'm saying and you know that. I just don't think there's anything we can do. I haven't talked to the Dunne's since I told them. I think telling them the truth would be enough. Enough to say we did everything we could. We tried, Jack. That's all we can do, we have to move on now," I said. It hurt to say but someone had to say it. I could understand Jack, hell, part of me was right there with him, but logic had made it's play.

"We try. If we can buy one girl one more month to live than I'm happy. Can we do that, Conrad? Or are you too dead inside to even go that far?" Jack asked, standing up and pulling me up to his face by the shirt.

"What's the plan then, Jack? How do we save this girl, for even a month? Whoever's even next, which we don't know, how do we stop the ghost who can walk through walls? Hell, Jack, can walk through us!" My voice cracked as I tried to talk Jack down. "I know, Jack. I know how it feels, and it's tearing me apart inside that I have to be the one to say this. I know. . ." My voice faded into nonexistence as I cried, Jack still holding me upright.

"We find her, and we pull her out before she can be killed. Tackle her, run, and get away from that ghost. It'll be easy, once a month just save her," Jack said quietly. "That's the plan." Jack dropped me and I slumped to the couch, the bright purple liquid sloshing out of my can and letting a few drops fall to the floor.

"Okay. Okay, you win. Let's try it. Find the next target, every month and save her life. Fuck it, let's try it. I'll loose my job, you'll probably loose yours too, but let's do it. But you have to make a deal," I told him after a moment of consideration. I hadn't wanted to give up, not really. There just seemed like no other alternative.

"What's the deal?" Jack asked in a menacing whisper.

"If we fail, we give it up. If we can't save anyone, then we go back to our jobs, we try to cope however we can. Deal?" I raised my hand even as my voice cracked under the weight of all my sorrows.

"Deal." Jack shook my hand with a grip so firm I felt my bones groan under the strain. Jack turned his head, looking majestically into the distance where the dark sky had almost merged with the dark horizon, a few lights from windows and stores breaking the seams. "You should get some sleep, you probably wouldn't be talking like this if you had slept last night."

"You should sleep too. We have time, staying up all night will help no one. Go to bed, you'll need rest if we're going to figure this out. People are the most complicated machines you'll ever encounter, and how they work will always be a mystery. Unfortunately, you've just made it our job to pop that hood and solve it," I said as I got up with another pull from my drink to finish it off.

Jack frustrated bit his lip and nodded his head. "Fine," was all he said. he walked out of the room and I closed his laptop, pulling his drink of the crevice in the couch and putting the unfinished can in the fridge while mine was crumpled and thrown in a plastic bag that had been hung on a cabinet knob.

I quickly showered and got myself ready for bed. As I lay down my head started moving at a thousand thoughts per minute, all resounding on one moment. That shattering sound happened as the sun was rising, and it's safe to assume that was the sound of her soul being destroyed. Last second, while the other murders happened in the dead of night.

"Fuck, she was trailing someone and lost them so she had to settle for something else for the month. Kaylyn was just the closest thing to the profile on hand. It was an opportunity killing," I said to the ceiling. That was bad news and good news. The good news is, we could make a more accurate profile, the bad news is, if we save someone, the ghost still has time to find someone else. We are going to have one long ass night at the end of the month.