Ghost Rift- Death is only the beginning

New London, 221B Hamish avenue.

It rained.
The heavy drops drummed against Casper's bedroom window as he sat staring out into the night-lit streets outside.
He was bored, and missing his old home in Kent. More than that, he still missed his mother.

For a moment, the rain came louder and he could hear soggy footsteps squelching on a mat, then a slam and the rain continued it's muted drone on the window.
"Oooh. Get this ruddy weather, will you? Ha!" called Capser's father from downstairs, as he hung his soaking, wet coat on the hook in the hallway. "Ellie be a good girl and stick the kettle on will you?".
Capser heard a muffled reply and clanging in the kitchen. He thought about going downstairs and greeting his dad but...well...what did it matter? He would just leave as quickly as he came before anything could be said or done. He always did.
Heck, he'll be called away to work leaving his cup to stew while Capser had to look after his little sister again.

It wasn't as if he disliked his father. No. He loved his father. He remembered he used to let Casper "help out" on a particularly difficult case. Although in the end they always ended up having some form of argument over Casper being allowed to join his dad out on these cases. He could take care of himself, surely!
"And where's out second-greatest sleuth hiding out today?", he heard along with his dad's footsteps on the stairs.
"In here, Dad! Actually I was just thinking about 'The mystery of the missing mermaid'..." he replied, swivelling around in his desk chair to face his father at the door.

Capser was the spitting image of his father. Broad-shouldered, and tall for his generation, his father wore a long brown, leather trenchcoat over a shirt and tie and trousers that hid his strong physique in a boxy, square shape. To fit the stereotype even further, he had even grown a thick moustache that dominated his upper lip like a fat caterpillar.
"Oh? Any developments, then? D'you really think the guy stuffed it in the janitor's locker and then took it off the scene the next day?", he half-mocked.
"...actually it's funny you should say that", Capser reached inside an open drawer for a photo of the Mermaid Pendant that was stolen from the museum nearly a week ago. He'd torn it out of a tabloid. "As you can see, here the pendant has no cord attached..."
He then reached for another picture while his father amusedly looked on. "...but in this picture we see the Mermaid returned but with a snapped length of string looped through it's eyelet. The thief undoubtedly must have worn the pendent off the scene--that's why the police never noticed it!"
"So? That doesn't exactly help us find whoever stole it. String is your average household item and you're telling me that you want me to have police knocking on people's doors asking 'how long is your length of string?'?--"
"No, Dad, I'm just saying th--"
"Now now 'Sherly'. I know you think you're doing a great job looking into this for me while I'm busy but I don't want you missing out on your college work for some mad scheme like the sort straight out of those books you read." He made his way back to the door, and said over his shoulder: "Leave the detective-work to the guys bringing me coffee"
And that was that.

A Prelude for an End

"DIE MR.POTATO!!"
*squeaaaak* Mr. Potato, the nation's only mass-marketed, plastic, hat-wearing personification of a vegetable squealed in protest as Ellie stabbed at it with her deadly toy knife.
Casper smirked at his sister's faithful recreation of the scene before ad-break, where the murderer took the life of the red-herring suspect on TV.
"Heh--so what will it be, Miss. Scarlet? Raspberry juice...or BLOOD?" he cackled fiendishly as he stood up from the sofa and strode over to the kitchen.
Ellie sat up from her crime scene with an equally sinister look. "Why blood, of course!"
Casper left her rolling around laughing and playing with her toys while he fetched them both some juice.

All of a sudden, his mobile phone buzzed.
Putting the beaker down next to his gleeful little sister, he snatched the phone from his pocket and took it back into the hallway so Ellie wouldn't overhear.
"Hello? Dad?"
"Casper? Is Ellie with yo--what am I saying of course she is. Right".
The answer came with a static edginess to it, as if his father was rushed. Expected of course, but something seemed...off.
"Son, something's come up and I probably won't be home on time again. You know the drill."
Casper could hear sirens forming in the background noise. Yep, Dad was going to be late as usual.
"Okay, so what--you want me to feed Ellie again? She's not the pet cat, Dad she's your daughter! And I know how to look after--"
"Yes, I know. You're a great kid, y'know but you really need to stop back-chatting. I'm your father for Christ's sake!"
He sighed.
"Look, there's been some kind of stuff going down in the museum. Gangs. I don't know what they're after but I want you to stay out of it you hear?!"
"Gangsters? At a museum? Since when were those chavs interested in history?"
"I know. It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?"
The sirens had stopped. He could hear tires screeching now.
"Woah wait--'stay out of it'? Dad, you're seriously expecting I'm about to run over there and leave Ellie all alone?"
"..."
"..."
"You get a babysitter"
"Oh y--grrr..." Capser glanced around to see if his sister wasn't within earshot. "POPPYCOCK!" He finished lamely.
"You honestly think I'm that stupid, don't you? Why? What's so special about this one?"
"No. You're clever. But also stupid. --Forget I said that. Point is, this stuff is for real and if you're going to run over here despite what I just told you then you're going to wind up dead. These gangs are tense and have twitchy trigger-fingers"
Some commotion was going on. What sounded like car doors slamming shut. His father's voice was clearer.
"Just please stay out of it. Bye"
"Wai--"
The line went dead.

Casper stood and glared at he 'CALL ENDED' display on his phone.
"Well, I have to hand it to the guy. He certainly knows how to make for an interesting conversation"
He gazed from the hallway at Ellie, eyes glued to the TV. She'd be fine with a babysitter. It wouldn't be the first time.
But gangsters acting like history nerds? Now that was interesting...

An End for a Prelude

"Oy! git yer mits off dat!"
"'Ey! Just oo do ya think yer talkin to? Youse better watch yor back, Dave or I'll stick a knife in it!"
"Heh. I'd like to see ya try, Jerry. Ya always were a soft lad"
"What is this? I pay you lot to steal that there amulet, and here you are bickering over shabby jewellery!" Came the booming voice from the man storming in the room.
They were inside a dimly lit viewing room for oriental artefacts inside the Second National Museum. Moonlight shone through the stained glass windows decorating the high-arched ceilings over the large space below.
The three figures look like insects from above, from where Casper was hidden, within the long shadows cast over the metal arches supporting the roof.
He had left Ellie in the reliable care of Joyce, a quite attractive girl from college who had taken a shine to him and was really good around Ellie in her occasional visits. Somehow, he knew he just had to be here tonight, despite what his father always warned him about. He would find a way to thank Joyce later, but for now he needed to stop whatever these sorry bunch had planned with that amulet.

"S-sorry boss. We was only messin'"
"Yeah. Jus' messin'"
The two lug-heads shuffled their feet nervously and hung their sorry heads with shame.
"'Sorry'...you come in here threatening to jeopardise our mission by stealing some junk when what we really came here for--", the more refined of the three and seemingly in charge shambled his equally large human chassis over to the display cabinet, containing a rare amulet with a curious purple jade pebble in the centre, and gazed in awe upon it.
"this remarkable specimen you see before you, gentlemen...is the famous ' vita recuperatio' amulet of the ancient, Chinese Ming dynasty. Thus named in latin, as it was, in fact, given to the British..."
Capser couldn't hang around to hear all this jabber.

He'd read all about that particular piece in the flyer. Pretty weird history behind it. Made with the British as a sign of peace and goodwill and all that crap. Supposedly cursed after the break-up yada, yada, yada....
Cursed or not, it wasn't theirs to take.
But if there was no other way to keep it safe, then...

"Hold on--", the smart one pulled out the amulet and began to inspect it, turning it over and studying it with scrutiny.
"--THIS IS A FAKE! A SHAM!" He bellowed, and threw it to the floor in disgust.
The two classic henchmen cowered.
"We didn't know, boss!"
"Yeah, it looked jus' like ya showed us in da picture!"
"YOU FOOLS! We've been tricked! Someone STOLE it before us!"

Capser allowed himself a smug grin, and pulled the amulet from his pocket.
He let it glisten in the light, the beautifully hand-cared stone glowed spectacularly in the bright moonlight.
Obviously, the gangsters noticed the glow just above them, in the shadows.
Casper hoped to God this plan worked.
"Looking for this, guys?"

"YOU!"
"Oy! Whats dat smug bugger doin' with our loot?"
"Do we shoot 'im, boss?", said one reaching for his gun.
Guns. How stupid. He should've known they'd have guns on them, judging by what his father told him.
Casper admitted to himself that he hadn't really thought this plan through.
"Don't shoot, you idiots he might drop it!", he turned back to the silhouetted figure. "YOU! Give me the amulet! NOW!"
"First you tell me why you want this thing so bad!"
The light shifted, and Capser came more into view. He was wearing a hoodie, pulled over his head and an old Halloween mask made of black, breathable material that went over his entire head. He looked like one of the Wring Wraiths out of Lord of The Rings, he mused.
"Now boy...you just put that thing down. It's priceless. We wouldn't want it to break now, would we?"
Capser stretch out his arm and let the amulet dangle from his hand. "I'm waiting"
The clever one seemed to understand, and grimaced. "I see...you think this is a game? That amulet has the power to restore life my boy. If someone were to unleash it's true potential just imagine what wonders human kind could accomplish!"

Alright. He was deluded. Great, thought Capser, I had to get the nutty one.
"You seriously believe that garbage?! Anyway, if by 'someone' you mean you, then I'm sorry to say but you're never gonna get your greasy mits on it!"
He didn't like that.
"Fine. Have it your way, boy. Jerry shoot this cocky, wise guy will you?"
"Whatever you says, boss. Alright yoo", he steadied his pistol on Casper and fired.
The other fired, too.
A hail of gunfire erupted in the quiet, empty space of the museum chamber.
For Capser, it never seemed to stop.

It was stupid.
He should have listened. He always thought his father was holding him back.
"...Well, I guess that goes to show me..."

A Matter of Life and Death

Casper clutched the amulet tight in his fist and ran with all the strength his legs could spare.
Of course he had a backup plan, but its only flaw would be that it involved running in a hail of gunfire.
He let out a cry of pain and grimaced as a few bullets clipped his waist and arms from behind. Despite this, he carried on until he reached the doors, the two henchmen on hot on his tail.
It was an all out race to the finish line. Casper would lead them straight to the police waiting outside to ambush them as they left.
He'd already gave them an anonymous tip-off that someone was going to break in, steal the amulet and trick the gangs into fighting each other over it.
Looks like there was only one gang though, and Capser wasn't able to stall them long enough for the Special Police Force to arrive either.
Good thing he had Plan C. The insanely desperate option.

Finally, he reached the lobby where the regular police were preparing an ambush.
Capser came crashing through the double doors, bullets flying past him from the chasing gangsters.
"Hold your fire! Friendly!"
"Do as he says! It's the ones after him we need to worry about!", his dad barked. He knew exactly who this idiot was.

He'd made it. The plan actually worked!
He shuddered. Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped.
Strangely, in the heat of the moment Capser felt a weird sensation, like he was starving.
Casper looked down to his aching stomach and saw a gooey red blob protruding from it. His summer-tanned skin went a pale white.
All the sound in the room drained out, the bullets and smashing glass he could hear as the gang and police fought it out echoed until nothing reached his ears but a persistent ringing.
His numb fingers reached towards the messy stain on his hoodie. He could see that they poked into his belly, and drew them out reluctantly .
They were covered in blood.
His blood.
In the moment the sick realisation came to him, his lost control as his body once again flinched and another hole appeared.
Still clutching the amulet, he staggered to see behind him with his weak legs. The police had managed to subdue the gang easily, but they must've kept shooting before they noticed the surrounding officers.

For the first time, he noticed he wasn't actually standing, and his father was kneeling over him. Everything was blurred, he could hear muted cries coming from nearby, but he couldn't make a word.
Then everything grew brighter, and brighter until a blinding white light was all his eyes could see.

Then nothing.

Capser was lost. Stumbling through the vast space his conciousness was in. Like the museum galleries he had been in just moments before death, this space was huge and devoid of all signs of life. Empty.
This...isn't what I expected
He choked at his throat, gasping to check he actually spoke...he was dead, so he couldn't possibly be talking yet words formed and became solid somehow.
Dialogue wasn't spoken...it was manifested.
Strange...I always assumed there'd be some kind of heaven or 'astral plane' or something

Time was not present here. As Capser wandered into bleached deserts of his surroundings, he felt very disorientated. Travelling for days seemed like seconds and still yet it had taken him aeons to come full-circle. Or at least he thought.
He had probably not moved from the same spot despite walking in one direction the whole time.

Gradually, managing to pass unnoticed by Casper, the world seemed to darken. The bleached white or the sky and sands were now a blue hue.
Less than a moment after, the inky invasion spread and became a darker, purplish stain that drained the pure landscape. The atmosphere dropped, and a numbing pain came from Capser's body. His lungs tightened.

*FLASH!*

A searing pain tore across Capser's entire body, piercing through his limbs to the points of his fingers and toes. His eyes burned and the skin on his face felt as if it was peeling away. His scalp constricted over his brain and suffocated all trace of thought: "What is happening? Why does it hurt so much?! Am I dying--passing on?!"
All that was left was the blood-curdling scream of every single nerve in his body.
In an instant it was gone.

All he could make out were his hands and legs.
The first thing he noticed was that he was lying down. The second, that he wasn't wearing his clothes, but had a cloth draped over his lap.
He could start to see a blurry background behind his shaking hands and feet. Beyond them, so far away, was a cold, metal platform.
A table. On the table were some small, shiny objects.
Lastly, his shadow seemed to stretch far further than the lighting would suggest. It was also vaguely maroon/brown.
Blood. Presumably his own.

Then it hit him: He was alive! He was lying on an operating table and the operation had been successful! He was saved!
Ghastly memories of the astral plane he was in a moment ago faded away quickly, like a dream.

"As if from a deep slumber..."

Muffled sounds approached his ears, his senses slowly but surely made out the perturbed voices of several strangers.
He was swarmed by a group of medical staff fussing over him. One tried to force him down, another attempted to inject some drug into him but in the end they all settled down and stepped back to give Capser the space he needed to make sense of his surroundings.
He was handed a mirror, quite forcefully, by a young-looking nurse. Although a face-mask was covering most of her expression, her eyes were impossibly wide with fright. She gestured to the mirror, begging him to look.
Confused, Capser brought the mirror up to his face--
"AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! Wh-WHAT IS THAT?!" He screamed, and threw the mirror to the floor, shattering it.
"W-Wh...How...Uuugh. What did you do to me?"