The stairs to the third floor, like everything else, are in total disrepair. I nearly cut myself on a jagged board during the ascent.

This airship used to be one of the three largest in the world, all owned and operated by the Nazis. The behemoth was integral to their war plan, but is currently home to the phased, a group of its former passengers anchored between two worlds, who are still claiming victims within the decommissioned and decompiled mess.

“This is it,” Julia says, standing at the landing. “I won’t go any further.”

“Thank you,” Holly says. “We’ll take it from here, I suppose.”

“Good luck. Maybe it will free me, too.”

The ghost descends the steps and disappears from view, leaving the three of us as alone as we’ll be for the rest of the third floor.

“What a nice person.”

I don’t know if I’d call her nice. Sure, she was willing to help, but she was probably a Nazi, like the rest of the people here.

Holly opens the door. Goosebumps wash over me. Despite large swaths of the missing ceiling allowing the moon to dimly illuminate the space, the air is stale. The colors of the galaxy add to the ethereal feel. We almost don’t need the lamp.

Many of the rooms and hallways that would normally be accessible are shredded to bits, especially in areas toward the center of the ship.

“After you,” Holly says, her slightly chipper mood gone.

I breathe deeply and step into what used to be a hallway. The boards groan under my weight, and the sound echoes across the expanse.

Holly joins me, and Aurora follows. The wind is soft and patchy, and frankly, unwelcome. I’m already cold. I don’t want to freeze to death.

Ding.

We freeze in place. A metallic twanging noise sounds off to our left.

What was that? she mouths.

Ding, ding. This time, the noises are pitched differently.

Maybe it’s the wind knocking metal together.

The dinging continues once more, and this time, it doesn’t stop. It takes a few seconds for me to realize it’s not dinging.

It’s music. Holly recognizes it, too.

And it’s getting faster.

Fear tickles every nerve ending in my body.

We’ve gotta move.

We run down the hallway, barely giving notice to the crackling floor, when someone laughs behind us. It’s loud and surly. I don’t turn to check who or where it came from.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Up ahead, a fog of smoke rises from the level below. It makes seeing our stepping space difficult, but more importantly, it means the ghost that killed Cody has arrived. As we approach, it comes into view, crawling from the second floor to join us.

The figure has the trademark blue wisps surrounding it, but that’s where the resemblance to the rest of the ghosts stops. This one is scarred and disfigured and has one extra arm centered on its chest. A cigar sticks out of where a mouth must have been, emitting the smoke we’re all too familiar with.

I can feel a scream bubbling inside, but Holly gets to it first.

The creature runs towards us from the opposite end of the hall. We’re finally forced to look at where we came from. There’s an additional phased person wearing full Nazi garb also charging our way.

The only way away from them is jumping to our right onto clearly unstable flooring. Thank God Stacy didn’t tag along.

Without waiting for them to close in further, I attempt the jump, lunging dramatically. The support beams split on landing, but don’t fully snap. Aurora hops across next, gracefully connecting on this side of the trench.

Holly hesitates, but I’m not sure why. The alternative is death. The specters edge closer, threatening to box her in. At last, she braves the jump and lands in the center of the half-supported section.

The beams snap, sending her tumbling before she has a chance to recover. I reach and grab her arm with my good one, hanging off the edge. My grip won’t last long, so I place her hand on the edge and help her up that way.

The ghosts meet where we used to be and stand threateningly. The Nazi turns around and heads back the way he came, but the deformed figure threatens to leap across the gorge like we did.

“Go, go, go!” Holly yells. We scramble forward, making small hops to avoid spots of missing flooring.

I glance at the figure. It makes it to our side with a superhuman horizontal jump.

This can’t be real.

Far off to our right, the Nazi is keeping pace, clearly waiting for a chance to reach us. Malice burns brightly in his eyes.

We reach another dead end, but there’s enough time to backtrack a little and loop to a different section. The creature with three arms is a lot closer.

I don’t think my heart can do this.

“There!” Holly shouts. “That has the hallmarks of a captain’s quarters to me!”

She points at one of the few fully put-together rooms, sitting maybe a hundred yards from where we’re at. There’s a plaque on the wall beside it I can’t read from here, but it’s pretty captain-like.

My brain doesn’t register it at first, but a shiny metallic object comes flying at me from below and soars past my face. I look down at the second floor and connect eyes with the ghostly chef I’d gotten a momentary glimpse of during our first encounter.

We’re right over the kitchen. He’s throwing knives again.

“Run!” Holly yells, as if we weren’t already. I bolt off in the direction of the potential captain’s quarters, peering behind me to ensure a safe distance from our antagonizers. It also gives me a glimpse of the deformed figure, who is still puffing smog, acting like the smokestack of a high-speed train.

I count the estimated distance in my head as we run so that I keep hold of my sanity.

Fifty yards left. The creature screams behind us as it misses a step and falls. It won’t take long for it to rejoin us.

Forty yards left. No sign of the Nazi, but he’s probably still close.

Thirty yards left. A rickety old door stands between us and whatever’s in the otherwise pristine room. I hope it’s unlocked.

Twenty yards left. The prospect of freedom fills my mind.

Ten yards left. We seem to be in the clear to—

The Nazi stands in front of the door, fists clenched. I skid to a halt, and Holly slows to a walk. The rabbit rushes ahead in front of us, as if ready to defend us.

Once again, the Nazi laughs his horrifyingly haunting laugh.

And the rabbit jumps at him, connecting with his chest. He falls, and instead of landing on his back, he slips through the ground and disappears below us.

“Oh my God,” Holly says, “you’re the best, Aurora!”

The rabbit sniffs the air. At least it’s humble.

The deformed figure bellows again, and I watch it fully emerge from the level below.

It’s now or never.

I swing the door open and immediately shut it behind Holly. The smoker slams against it, but the wooden frame holds strong. After a few more tries, it surrenders, leaving us in the entryway’s silence.

“That was intense,” Holly says.

“I can hear you,” a voice calls out. It’s raspy and echoey.

We stand in silence. This must be our friend, the captain.