Danny looked around himself once again. He knew that this late in the night, no one should be around the morgue, but the pills had a tendency to add to his paranoia, so he checked again.

No one was there.

He approached the door and produced a bunch of keys on a keychain. Stopping to look around, he tried each key one after another until he finally found the right one and opened the door, quickly getting in and closing it behind him.

Once inside, he finally felt slightly more relaxed.

Taking out a flashlight from his pocket, he slowly made his way through the doctor's office. He knew where he was going, so without any hesitation, he went down the corridor and turned right to the last room on the first floor.

He exhaled without thinking.

Sometimes when the doctor needed to stay late, he would take his cat with him. The creature would sit in that room, and each time Danny came around, it would stare at him until he left. Its gaze was always uncomfortable, way too intelligent for his liking.

And right now, he felt something similar, but stronger. Something unnerved him, as if the cat was watching from somewhere.

For some reason, the hair on his neck stood up.

"Gotta lay off the pills," he whispered to himself, shaking off the goosebumps.

He needed the work done as quickly as possible. There was a big order coming up, so more pills were needed. But that was okay.

'With the doctor being suspended, there shouldn't be a problem if more went missing.' Danny tried to calm himself down.

Opening one of the drawers, he began rummaging through its contents, searching for painkillers.

He kept going, looking through the shelves. The work took his mind off the stress as he read the labels, searching for anything good.

Finally, after going through the smaller cabinets, it was time for the main prize: the glass cabinet where some more potent opioids could be found.

He approached it and once again started fidgeting with the keys. Finally finding the right one, he opened the glass doors, already seeing some strong painkillers behind them.

But his celebration was cut short.

As the doors opened, he saw something terrifying.

A reflection in the glass.

Someone was standing right behind him.

The person wore a mask that appeared to be made from branches, with two hollow eyes. He turned around in panic, fight-or-flight responses battling for control of his body, making him freeze in place in the end.

All he managed was to scream. Or try to, as the moment he opened his mouth, the man slammed his open palm into his throat. All that came out was a muffled cough and some wheezing.

"F-F-Fuck o-off, dude. I'll call the police," he stammered, the first thing that came to his mind as his back touched the cabinet.

There was nowhere to run, he realized. The windows were barred, and the door was behind the man in the mask.

"Suuure," came a creepy, echoing, inhuman voice that made the blood in his veins freeze. "I caught a burglar, officer. But he picked up a scalpel out of nowhere. I had to break both his arms," the thing spoke in a fake flat voice, mocking him.

The moment he mentioned broken arms, Danny felt himself go weak as the weight in his stomach dropped even further.

"L-Look, I can give you anything. I have pills, money, whatever you want."

The man tilted his head. Danny was hoping he would be interested in pills.

"Where did you get the keys from?" asked the voice.

"W-what?" Danny asked back.

"Am I hard to understand? Should I come closer so you can hear me better?" The masked person smiled.

Danny almost lost consciousness as the branches started moving around, actually twisting into a smile.

It was a demon or some sort of monster. Danny closed his eyes as his legs gave out from under him.

"O-O-Oh God. Oh. Our Father, who art in heaven… uhm h-h-hall-hall-" He tried praying, but the words wouldn't come.

When was the last time he tried? He didn't remember.

"Hallowed be Thy name," the demon prompted, to which Danny just started shaking even more.

"I'm afraid He ain't here with us tonight. So answer my questions, and you might leave with your life. How did you get the keys?"

"I-I work here."

Danny flinched as the branches stretched further.

"And who are you?"

"I'm Grease."

"That's an unfortunate name," the thing spoke, amused.

"I mean, I'm Danny. People call me Grease."

"Okay, Grease. Some bodies arrived here around nine days ago. Overdoses from a party. Do you know anything about them?"

"Yeah. I-I overheard the doctor speak with a policeman about them. They decided to call them overdoses, but they weren't. They were strange."

"Strange how?"

"I-I don't know, I swear. I just overheard the conversation. Some kids said they took something and collapsed, but I didn't sell them anything, I swear."

"So there were witnesses?"

"I think?"

"Okay." The thing nodded. "You like the slaughterhouse parties, right?"

Grease nodded.

"Good. Do you know the preacher's son?"

Stolen novel; please report.

"N-no."

"He's not your client?"

"No. I swear."

The thing went silent for some time.

"Re-real–" Danny started to reassure, but the demon cut in.

"Do you know anything about what happened at the party? About the 'overdoses.'"

"No. It was barely a party, not big enough for me to sell there."

"Good," the creature spoke, and then looked at the cabinet. "You are stocking up, huh? Is there another party planned?"

"Y-Yeah. Saturday after Founders' Day."

The thing nodded to itself once again.

"The last question," it spoke, and then reached into Grease's pocket and pulled out a pill container. "How many of these to knock someone out?"

"Ummm. Three?" Danny answered.

It took out three pills and, before he could say anything, shoved them into his mouth, then covered his nose and mouth until he swallowed. It brought its strange face closer and spoke almost right to his ear.

"You should really stop using those. You had a terrible trip."

It waved its hand, and then everything went black.

The next day, Danny woke up in front of the morgue in a ditch. He groaned and looked around.

Did he try his own stash again?

He checked his pockets, but everything was still there. He had the usual headache and dryness in his mouth that meant he had been using the night before.

The unpleasant vision of the night came back to him. Demon in the office, now in the light of day, it seemed so silly.

He chuckled to himself as he absentmindedly massaged his throat.

I received some helpful information last night.

There were witnesses to the overdoses, and another party would be coming up. It was Wednesday today, so I had two days until Founders' Day on Friday and three until the party.

But that was where the good news ended.

I went through the report yesterday after coming back. It was filled with medical terms, protocols, and related documentation, but after finally reaching the description of the bodies, they weren't what I expected. My initial theory was that the artifact itself was causing soul mutations that showed in the flesh to such an extent… somehow.

But the bodies were a completely different case.

I sighed, thinking about the report.

It was morning, and I had some free time. The ghost hunters were apparently doing something on their own, as I didn't get an invitation and was told we would meet later, before the school meeting.

That sat well with me.

The plan was to look over the report once again in the morning. Next, meet the idiots and gather some information from Mercy about what she saw. And finally, use the school meeting to visit Sandra's house when the girl would hopefully be alone.

So right now, I was back to examining the medical report.

The first part that got my interest was the initial identification.

Identification & Circumstances

Decedent A: Minor, 17 years, presumed male.

Decedent B: Minor, 17 years, presumed male.

How they were found: Both were discovered lying on their backs inside a room in an abandoned industrial facility. Normal indoor temperature.

Time since death: Unable to identify. Based on body temperature, estimated multiple days. Based on lividity and stiffness, unable to come up with an estimation.

So the bodies were cold, even though according to Grease, they collapsed with their friends around, so the police should have been there quickly.

External Examination

Shared findings (A and B):

Eyes: The whites of the eyes appeared unusually white and cloudy, with fine surface cracking. The eyelids and surrounding skin showed no burns or heat damage. Eyelashes and eyebrows were intact.

Face: The facial muscles were locked in a grimace suggestive of intense muscle tightening at or near the moment of death. No bruises, cuts, or petechiae on the face or neck. Faces locked in a grimace of pain.

Injuries: No gunshot, stab, or blunt-force injuries. No ligature marks. No obvious needle marks apart from standard medical access.

Mouth/Nose: No blood. Foam around the mouth, identified as spit.

Now that was the interesting part. White, boiled-looking eyes and a grimace of pain. Although "grimace" was putting it lightly. There were photos attached at the end, and the faces were expressions of unimaginable suffering to the point that the jaws were almost dislocated, as if frozen in a scream.

Laboratory & Imaging

Toxicology: Samples were collected. Initial screening for alcohols and common drugs was negative.

Eye fluid chemistry: Routine measurements were not diagnostic for dehydration or severe metabolic crisis.

Microscopy:

Heart: No signs of recent heart attack or inflammation.

Lungs: Mild fluid and congestion, no classic pattern of severe lung injury.

Liver/Kidney/Spleen: Congested, otherwise typical structure.

CT scan: No fractures, no metal fragments, normal appearance of the eye sockets, and no signs of penetrating trauma.

Opinions

Decedent A — Cause of Death: Undetermined. Sudden collapse with failure of multiple body systems, no clear anatomic or toxic cause found.

Decedent A — Manner of Death: Undetermined.

Decedent B — Cause of Death: Undetermined. Sudden collapse with failure of multiple body systems, no clear anatomic or toxic cause found.

Decedent B — Manner of Death: Undetermined.

Comment:

Both deaths appear sudden and non-traumatic, with bodies found at rest and no signs of struggle, injury, poison, or heat/chemical exposure that would explain the unusual eye appearance. The fixed facial expressions are too extreme to be classical rigor mortis. The whitening of the eye whites is striking but does not match typical heat damage, and its mechanism is unclear based on current findings. At this time, available testing does not identify a natural disease, intoxication, or environmental factor that explains the deaths.

Any attempts to alter the facial expressions of the bodies failed.

Muscles don't respond to any physical attempts at resetting or any chemical relaxants.

I can't make them stop screaming.

The comment section cut there. I assumed the doctor had finally had enough, although I wasn't sure whether this would be enough to scare a doctor into jeopardizing his career.

What's more, I vaguely recognized those symptoms. There was a soul spell that could do something like that. I would have to wait to call Ophelia to check a book for me, to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

So, I was trying—and failing miserably—to come up with a theory of what happened and where any related artifacts might be.

After a few hours, I finally got a message that the ghost hunting clowns were free and I could meet them at their headquarters, which was apparently in Victor's family's house.

I arrived at the place and, after knocking on the front door, was greeted by an old woman with a warm smile.

"You must be one of Victor's friends. Please come in," she said immediately after opening, and pointed me inside. I walked in and was led to a room upstairs.

"Victor, honey, your friend has arrived," she said, opening a door with 'no girls allowed' still visible, as it had been scratched into the wood years ago.

As soon as I walked in, they quickly and awkwardly hid some papers.

"Thanks, Mom," said Victor and shook my hand.

I looked around.

If not for the room's inhabitants, I would think that I had been let into a place where an angsty teenager with a love for cheap movies lived. The walls were decorated with posters of either barely clad girls or some cheap movies.

They were apparently working on Rey's speech after they had roped him into it, so I was left to my own devices, aside from being asked for input from time to time. Using the free time, I finally managed to talk with Mercy about what she saw in the slaughterhouse.

She was eager to show me the recording she made during the night.

And it was… something.

I watched intently with a deep frown. It showed what I assumed was the boar I fought in the forest, stalking her.

There were also the eyes and the moving hook, but that could be explained by the presence of mana in a recent place of murder. Magic responded to beliefs, and there should be enough of it to move a rusted hook slightly and mess with electronics.

No, what I was most interested in was the boar. The creature appeared to be stalking the woman, but there was a problem.

Why didn't it attack?

I assumed that in my case, it was waiting for a perfect moment, but here it clearly had it. Instead, it just smelled the air and left.

Why?

Wasn't it a mindless mutation?

Or was there some pattern or need driving it forward?

And most of all—

Why the fuck did nothing seem to make sense in this case?

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