My name is Conrad Keller, and I am the only person alive that can communicate with the dead. Normally, for this kind of investigation that would be quite the blessing, but something was different about this. I have to find the answers, and I will write down what I can remember.

This morning my roommate, Kaylyn, was brutally murdered. Normally there would be a ghost I could ask about it, but there was no spirit. There wasn't even a spirit to witness the murder. Of course, no one would believe me and take this investigation off my hands. Best I could do was tell the truth to the cops, let them handle the corporeal investigation while I take time off of work to handle the dead investigation.

Knock knock knock. I ran to the door, fumbling with the deadlock before swinging it wide open to reveal two police officers. "You said you think your roommate is dead? This is the right apartment, correct?" said one of the uniformed men, clearly almost as tired as I was. He got right to the point, but he seemed like he didn't believe us, but if that were the case they would have sent EMT's not police. Right?

"Yes, please come in. Her room is just down the hall, you'll know which one." I was shaking breathing heavily. I was surrounded by the dead at all times yet seeing something like that was so. . . wrong. I was panicking, my breathing starting to come rapidly and my hands getting cold, turning a shining white as my heart tried to beat out of my chest. Focus I thought as my mind started catching up to the scenario and how terrible it was.

"Whatever you say," he responded.

His partner noticed my heavy breathing as he pushed through the doorway. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I, uh, um." My mind was racing but I couldn't solidify any thoughts into words, it was making me kind of dizzy.

"Hey hey hey, sit down, just breathe, focus on breathing," he said, guiding me to a couch and lightly pushing me into the cushions. "That's it, in, then out. Good, just keep at it okay? Try to calm down."

In, and out. In, and out. The only thoughts that cut through my reverie.

"Oh fuck, Sturgis, you need to see this. I'll go call this in," shouted the first officer from down the hall.

A moment later I heard the officer that took the time to help me out, Sturgis, gasp in shock. I hadn't even known he left my side. Fucking focus, Conrad. I looked for something to hold my attention, eyes wandering to Jack who was pacing frantically and aggressively biting his nails. Watching him walk back and forth helped, letting me time by breaths and calm my mind.

"Sir? Sir!"

"What?" I asked. It had sounded like they had been trying to get my attention for some time, but I only heard them when Jack stopped pacing and looked at me with worry in his eyes. Damn it Conrad, focus!

"Sir we need you to come to the police station with us and answer a few questions. Can you come with us?"

"I. . ." Words were failing me so I just nodded and let them lead me out the door.

"I'm going, just give Conny a minute, he can't take all this!" Jake was shouting. I couldn't hear what the other officer said as we started making our way to the elevator, pushing the down button.

"How much did you see?" asked Sturgis.

"Just blood. . . so much blood. . . I. . . think her body blocked the door," I said, racking sobs choking the words. Sturgis' arm around me helped, keeping me warm which was comforting in it's own right.

"Conrad, the police know what to do, it'll be okay," Jack said, putting an arm around me as well. He was shaking noticeably but it still helped. I suppose it was as much for him as it was me, but that was fine. I was starting to pull my thoughts into a cohesive line again.

Ding signaled the arrival of the elevator, the chrome doors parting to reveal two more police officers. "We rushed over as soon as we heard. Is it really another one?" said one of the men before noticing the two civilians and trying to back track the words. "Two apartments today, you'd think drug lords would find somewhere less conspicuous to hide." It was a blatant lie, but at least he had tried.

Another one? As in not the first? I was gonna be sick. What the hell is going on here?

"I'm taking these two to the station. They are the other residents of the apartment and the ones that called it in." said Sturgis as she led us into the elevator.

In response the man just nodded and let the doors close in front of us.

The elevator door opened moments later, letting us out to the ground floor where I could easily see two squad cars parked outside through the glass doors. "Would you like to drive yourselves to the station or ride with me?" he asked.

I shook my head no, but Jack was nodding. "I guess I'll ride with him," I said.

"Alright, well I want you to follow my car real close, alright?"

"We will." Jack said, and I nodded along, still a little pale. Sturgis nodded, watching the two of us for a moment before turning and walking out the double doors, Jack and I following close behind. Sturgis hopped into one of the cars and watched us walk around the vehicle to get to Jack's car. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was only ten years old and a little dinged up by the previous driver, unlike my car that had looked like it had been in a demolition derby.

I slid into the passenger seat, the leather causing my shorts to slide underneath me. Jack turned the key, reaching over and quickly muting the radio. It's an odd scenario. Do you listen to music on the way to the police station when one of your friends was just brutally murdered? Someone you tripsat for when they tried shrooms? Someone who helped you lie to your boss for a day off? The answer is a tricky one, because driving in silence just lets the horror set in, but music would ruin the solemnity of the death. Jack decided it was a no to the music, and I wasn't about to argue with him. Both seemed equally correct anyways.

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

In, out, in, out. Suddenly we were pulling into the police station. "Damn it," I muttered under my breath. I had let my mind lapse again, missing the whole car ride.

"Look man, I know it's a lot, and I know that you're crazy or whatever, but I know you didn't do this. If they seem like they're accusing you of something, even if your family disowns you or whatever, just know I've got your back, alright?" Jack said as he pulled into a parking spot. He turned to look at me after throwing the car into park. "I know you think some ghost or something did this, and frankly, I don't care what goose chases you go on if it helps you, but I need you to cooperate as best you can, if you say anything about seeing dead people they wont believe you and nothing you say can be used and they'll never find who did this and-"

"You're spiraling," I realized. It brought him up short, pausing the torrent of words. I was surprised I had recognized it as bad as I was at the moment.

"I guess you're right. I'm fucking scared, man. That could have been any of us." All I could do was nod at the new wave of realization those words had brought.

Tap tap tap. Sturgis was rapping on the window. Jack nodded to him and moved to open the door, undoing his seatbelt.

"Come on- Conny? Oh shit man, I'm sorry. Can you get out of the car? Like, are you okay?" he asked, finally realizing that it hadn't come to my mind that not only was our friend gone and even I could never talk to her again, but it could have been any of the three of us and dumb luck had just chosen Kaylyn.

"Bitch should have taken me, because I'm about to make that whores death a waking nightmare." I had never spoken with such venom before, it even surprised me.

"Damn, that's some hardcore shit," said someone in the back seat. "But I don't know if whore is quite right. You already used bitch, so you can't do it again. How about, 'she demon'? No, that's kind of sexy, not quite what you're-"

"Shut the fuck up back there. I can't deal with this shit right now."

The stoner ghost raised his hands, his half burnt face contorting slightly. "Wasn't expecting you to see me. Alright then boss man." The rearview mirror willed with glowing silver mist as the ghost walked right out the back of the vehicle.

Jack was waiting for me to be ready, the door cracked open slightly. "Let's go in," I said, opening the door. I could still see and hear ghosts, so that wasn't the problem, they had just all evacuated my apartment for some reason. It wasn't out of respect for the dead, that's for damn sure. I knew several ghosts that had wandered the country trying to catch murders to watch, and the rest didn't care if or how a person died, it's just one more person taking up space in the world. Not like they could do anything about it anyways, or so I thought until this morning.

Stepping out gave me the vantage to meet Sturgis' eyes, and to his credit he did look concerned about me. "I'll be fine, I just need to figure out how to deal with this in my own time." Sturgis nodded and led us into the police department.

"Stick with me. We're going to the interrogation rooms. Don't worry, no one's accusing either of you of anything, it's just so we can record your answers. Any detail could help us," Sturgis said as she walked past the front desk and past a number of much less ornate desks, back to a room with a metal door that locked from the outside. "Jackson, we'll have you go first. Conrad, can you just sit right here for me? Don't move, this wont take long." Sturgis guided me to a chair close to the door, leading Jack into the room and pulling the door almost all the way closed, leaving just enough of a crack to say look, we aren't keeping you captive, the door's open and everything.

Just because I caught on to the tactic didn't mean it didn't work. It did bring a sort of safety to the situation. I'm not in trouble, I'm just answering a few questions was the feeling it gave me.

"I wonder what this lad is here for. Most misguided young souls are in for possession of drugs, so I'm sure that's it. He looks far to kind to do anything terrible."

I started. I knew that voice. "Mr. Gator? What are you doing here?" I asked quietly. I hadn't even known the old school counselor had died, though I shouldn't have been surprised. He had looked one step into his grave already all through his high school years.

"You can see me? Wait, this can't be. Conrad? It was only a year ago I was your councilor, there's no way you grew up so much in one year! And to think you were telling the truth this whole time. What did you do lad? I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding." He seemed so genuinely happy and shocked to see that I had grown up after high school, let alone that I found myself in jail.

"Actually, it's been six years. I would guess you've been dead for four or five." I gave this a moment to sink in, some ghosts didn't take well to their memory being faulty as soon as it left their fleshy brains.

"Six years. Can't say I'm surprised. Lot's of interesting and troubled kids come through here. This is what I wanted to do as a kid. Detective Gator they would call me. I suppose that dream is as dead as I am, hah!" he said, growing contemplative before bouncing right back to joyous. "What did you do boy, I don't think you have the heart for anything serious."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not here for something I did. I woke up to a loud crashing this morning, and then my roommate was dead. I didn't see the body, but all the blood. . ." I trailed off, sure he would understand what I meant.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to. If you want I can walk around with you and help you through this? I have nothing better to do. Once my student, always my student, and my students always come first."

"Thanks Mr. Gator, I think I'm okay. Plus, the thing I'm going to go hunt can kill ghosts, or at least prevent them from forming. I don't know if it'll be safe for a ghost or not. Shit, I don't even know if it'll be safe for me," I told him, wringing my hands.

"The offer still stands if you need it. I'll be here, if you can get to me," he responded. He leaned back, poking his head through the wall and into the interrogation room. "They still have a long way to go in there. Just sit there, don't say anything, and try not to think, just meditate," he said when he came back through the wall. I saw him try to rub my back in a comforting manner, but it just went right through me. He didn't stop though, and I didn't make him stop.

A few hours later Jack stumbled out of the room, looking as haggard as I felt. "They'll make you say it about a thousand times, be prepared for that," Jack said as he sat right where Mr. Gator was sitting, sending a cloud of mist only I could see into the air.

"Ope!" he said as the mist reformed into his many many wrinkles in another chair.

"Conrad, can you come tell us what happened in here?" Sturgis asked. "Take some water before you come in, we don't want anyone passing out in here."

"I will," I said, standing on my shaking legs.

"I wont go in with you, I don't want to distract you. Just tell the truth and don't mention ghosts, they won't believe you. Relax, you'll be perfectly fine in there." Why did everyone keep reassuring me I would be fine? It was starting to feel like a trap now, but I knew logically that it wasn't.

I grabbed a paper cup off of a stack by a water cooler and filled it up, draining it quickly then filling it up again and bringing it into the interrogation room for sipping. Let the questioning begin I thought.