Page 83 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

I turn and squint into the passageway to find the darkness now filling with an eerie green phosphorescent glow, an icy blast of air that swirls and eddies like a tornado, ripping down all the cobwebs in its path.

“FUCK ME!” Dusty exclaims loudly, her eyes saucer-sized.

Ruby, Ellis, and Rosie shriek as they clutch onto each other. We’re all backing up the stairs into Grey and Danny, who are still shoving at the door to get it open.

“Dusty!” I shout, not caring who hears. “Open the door from the other side!”

“On it!” She disappears as the swirling green mist barrels towards us.

Suddenly, the door swings open wildly and we all tumble through en masse, falling on top of each other in a heap on the floor.

I roll over and Ellis falls off me onto the floor, then we both turn to see a terrifying face appear in the dark entrance to the tunnel. It’s an old woman with wild, wiry hair, her white glowing eyes encircled by deep dark purple shadows and chalky white skin. Her mouth is open in a feral snarl and her hands are outstretched, fingers curled into claws and tipped with pointed nails.

Ellis screams again and kicks at the door.

It swings shut but the latch doesn’t catch, it simply rebounds and re-opens. He kicks at it again, but the same thing happens.

“Um,” the feral ghost says politely, dropping her hands and relaxing her face, “I think–”

Ellis kicks the door again.

“You might–”

It bounces open.

“Need to–”

Kick.

“The latch–”

Kick.

“Is stuck–”

Ellis scrambles to his feet and grabs the door, but the ghost points to the catch, which seems to be stuck in the upright position.

“Give it a tug,” she coaxes.

Ellis blinks and reaches for the mechanism on the inside of the door, giving it a wiggle.

“Just a little more,” she says, watching him work to unstick it. “Good job.” She nods as it clicks free. “You might just want to get John the Maid to drop a spot of oil on it.”

Ellis stares at her.

“Are you ready?” she asks and he nods, dumbfounded. She smiles and clears her throat a couple of times before shaking her shoulders out to limber herself up, then assuming a slightly hunched position, raising her hands, and curling her fingers back into claws.

“Okay, on the count of three,” she instructs. “One… Two… Three…” She hisses loudly, her face resuming the feral, wraithlike screechy countenance.

Ellis gives a high-pitched scream and slams the door. This time, the latch catches and the door remains closed.

He turns towards us, panting hard.

“What the bloody blazes is going on?” Major Dick’s voice bellows out. “Is this some kind of prank? Because our colleague isdead. It’s in very poor taste.”

Danny and I twist our heads to look around our group. We seem to have landed in the conservatory with one of the other search teams.

Major Dick and Mr Meadow are standing to one side, shocked and confused. Next to them is the giant John the Maid, who’s holding Mr Pennington in his arms bridal-style. The skinny writer clutches onto him as if he leapt in fright right into the other man’s arms. John the Maid rolls his eyes and sighs as if catching terrified writers happens to him every day.