A portal of space and fire appeared near the bridge, a lone figure peering through the distorted space, examining it.

A moment later a floating metal eye came through, scanning the area just before a tall robed figure stepped into the path, his eyes a bright red as he quickly looked around, unsure of his surrounding.

The portal snapped shut with the sound of thunder, rolling and echoing into the woods.

Hmm.. seems that the spell worked.. now where in the gods name am I?

Getting in and out hadn't been so bad.  Minimal resistance.  Though he has not been gone long, Mason is moving back through the woods, this time at a steady walk.

[From The porch]

Finding a clearing, not far from the Tavern, but far enough not to be overheard or watched, Vanessa stopped, sighed, and let Slick down from her shoulder since he obviously wanted to sniff around.

So...the punchline, if you've not already figured this out.  I refused to get married til this particular case was resolved, and the case was never going to be resolved, because my Agent partner, my finance, was the murderer... Vanessa gazed up at the tree branches, avoiding looking at Mason, I suppose this is kind of a compliment, in a strange way. If he couldn't marry me, then he wanted me dead... It was a sunday morning, he went out for a run and was going to bring back coffee....

She took a deep breath, she'd not talked about this for years.

I was in that half sleep state, and thought I heard something funny...I got up, took my gun, on instinct, and went into the kitchen.  Our killer always left these lovely poems near the victim, after he strangled them, always with scaves with roses on them.  I went into the kitchen... there was a poem on the fridge.  He said, "Hey Nes."  I turned.  I registered the scarf in his hands.  He took two steps toward me. I said stop.  He took a third and I put a bullet into his head and the second into his heart.

She shook her head and turned back to Mason.  But the worst part, She chuckled at this, most people back home would think her crazy. A week latter, he showed up and told me he was going to make my life miserable and he's followed me quite literally into hell an back to do just that.

She paused, looking at Mason, waiting for him to decide she was a lunatic, walk away or such.  If he did, she certainly couldn't blame him.

In the dark it is hard to see the Mason shake his head.  Yes, a parallel to his own story, except for the ghost part.  He knew how difficult that story must have been to say.  He wasn't going to make it any harder by asking stupid questions.

"Ok, that clears up who the ghost is.  After this is over, I will tell you about my time with the NYPD Inc.  I see a small clearing up ahead it would probably be best set up there."

She smiled in thanks, and gave a nod, following Mason to the clearing and making sure Slick came along also.

So... She examined the gun.  He arrives, our little friend attacks, I shoot.  Done? She asked, all the while making sure she knew how the equipment in her hand worked.  It sounded too simple.  Way too good to possibly be true.

"Sounds like a plan.  I will back your play."

Mason sets the duffel bag down, opening it up and pulling out a couple of hand guns that seem to be mounted in an electronic housing.  He rests his right hand on the top of one of them as he points it first at himself, then Vanessa then Slick.  He mounts one on each side of the clearing, pointing out.

"Miniture Sentry guns with image recognition software, don't worry, they are armed with non lethal ammo."

He removes the Katana and takes off the great coat.  It is now obvious that he has a shoulder holster, a hip holster and cross draw holster.  All of them holding different guns.  He reloads the hand gun in the cross draw holster and puts the Katana at his waist.

"This gun is loaded with the same ammo as yours, but I am just here as back up.  This is for you to deal with."

Curious, Vanessa was momentarily sidetracked by the guns.  She nodded that she had heard and followed Mason, but she wandered in for a closer inspection.  You're world is definatley something else. She said softly.

In addition to her 'little problem', she had been on some adventures in which these weapons would have come in so, so very handy. She sighed, no point in dwelling on that... especially at the moment.

She glanced around, suddenly nervous.  This could be easy.  Kevin arrives, shoot him.  Been there.  Done that. Bought the t-shirt.  And that had been under duress.  It wasn't like she had any duress any more. She would love to shoot the sorry son-of...  Any upset and guilt she'd felt had long worn away like a marriage gone bad.

Retrieving the ammo from her waist, she loaded the gun.  Verified again that she understood how it worked.  Checked again that she knew where both Mason and Slick were and which direction the Tavern lay.

She knew by instinct that Mason wouldn't allow a situation in which her shot might hurt anyone out and about, but she still strategically positioned each of them to assure no harm could come.

Ready? She asked, asking herself as much as he.

"Ready.  One more thing, the FAB Strain III rounds have no affect on living creatures.  You could equate it to being hit with a paintball.  It will sting, but no lasting damage."

Vanessa nodded again, reassured. Okay. She gazed at Mason.

This would be the hardest part...But then again, maybe not...

With the gun ready, but down at her side, she stepped up to the man. Thank you. She said sincerely, and streched up, her lips barely brushing his cheek. It was heartfelt, certainly, but also the surest way to get audience.

For Vanessa, at least, and clearly for Slick, the electricity in the air altered palpably.  It was an acrid, shimmer, like heat off pavement, yet icy cold.  In a column behind her forming like the attraction of dust mites in sunlight a shape was forming.

Shimming translucent the shape formed of a young man, thirties, his hair a little long, his dress casual.  His skin unnaturally pale, however, and as he was clearly agitated, the dark spot between his eyes stood in sharp contrast like a grotesque Bindi.

She could hear him long before any image was clear.  Their anger had stopped being the heated emotional ravings years ago.  For that, there still had to be feeling.  Now it was sharp, cold steel slicing thru fire.  He spoke low, no longer melodic to her, but a viper’s hiss.

He always spoke calmly, despite at times matter of factly saying the most vile of insults. In recent years this too had stopped having the edge of heat, and were cold and calculated, designed to seep into one’s bones and the chill to linger.

She’d been working on not listening, but to simply hear the hissing.  She still caught isolated words.  Enough to know he didn’t want any heartfelt positive sentiments directed at anyone but himself, and since that was not likely…  But she could tell by the isolated words that penetrated her defenses he had no idea what was happening, or what she hoped was about to happen.

Like all things of great magnitude, the moment was both instantaneous and eternal.  Vanessa dared not look at Mason nor the creature that was now growling.  Trusting that Mason’s words were true and the gun in her hand would harm only her intended target,  she waited till the hiss was steady.  The comfortable sound of a train coming to station or a tea kettle about to whistle, and as she’d done eight years early, turned and without hesitation fired in direct aim.

She might have fired off two or three rounds, she had no idea.  Once sited, fired, eyes open, but not seeing.

Everything he had told her, about the FAB Strain III bacteria was true.  It was down right lethal to spirits of all types.  It had been  the "final solution" for cleansing Chicago of the insect spirit invasion.  The problem was that it had left the city spiritually dead.  Any thing that had lived in the spirit world had been killed.  Most people didn't understand what that meant, there are spirits everywhere.  Every house had home spirit.  They all died.

Mason stands ready, without a hand on a weapon.

She vaguely registered Slick nipping at something.  It reminded her of a puppy in her youth that had long vacated her memory.  Kevin..dissipated was probably the word for it.

She knew it was real as a cylindrical dead spot appeared before her. She paused a beat.  Skeptical.  Her hands formally holding the gun steady dropped to her side and she took a few steps toward the area, still disbelieving.

Could it be over?  So easy? So simple.  So long in coming. It certainly wasn't real to her, but it was quiet.

She stood, expectant, waiting for a long minute.

Finally, still silent, she turned to look inquisitively  at Mason.  She tilted her head in question, the wariness in her expression and the doubt in her eyes.  The only sounds natural forest sounds.  Slick, snuffled along the same area, though he seemed more disappointed then doubtful.

"They just disappear when they are destroyed.  And I have never heard of one coming back later."

He stands motionless, waiting to see what Vanessa will do next.  To dispatch an enemy that has been hounding you... if only it was so simple for him.  His enemies were not individuals though, but large groups and organizations.

She laughed a little and turned in a slow circle.  It certainly didn't seem possible.  A little anticlimactic huh? She smiled at him. Any realization of it being over, after so much time was hard to assimilate. She quickly went back to her slow circular assessment of the area.

Though, Hollywood fanfare and I'd not believe that either. It was more a mutter to herself.  She'd seen many strange things in the past 10 years, The jewels with the greatest worth never shine the brightest when mined. She went on, in the same muttering manner.

I think this is going to take me awhile to really believe. Vanessa smiled again, coming full circle back to face Mason.

She wanted to test it...but her only sure fire way to 'call' Kev, she was no longer comfortable with.  But for the first time it dawned on her, if this HAD worked... and it certainly appeared that it had...there would be a freedom that she'd forgotten possible.  The weight was certainly not lifted from her shoulders, that would take time, but the notion that it could be so, was overpowering. I... I... I don't know how to thank you. She spoke sincerely.

"Don't worry about it."

Mason walks over to Slick who's hair stands up and he hisses up at him.  He smiles down at the stretched out little rat.

"He really doesn't like me much, they can tell how much of me has been replaced.  Each round you fired cost about what your average wage slave earns in a week, and it doesn't matter to me.  I have over six million nuyen worth of modifications.  I am the ultimate display of what technology can do.  I have had my peripheral nervous system replaced with hard wires.  A normal human's reaction is based on a series of chemical reactions that travel from nerve to nerve.  My reactions move at the speed of light.  I regret it sometimes.  Sometimes I wish I could go back to what I was.  I have talked more in the past few hours here than I have in... quite a few years.  I think I should tell you about some of my ghosts now."

As Mason and Vanessa stand there wondering if the encounter truly is over, Slick raises up on his hackles and starts to hiss at the air.  A horrid screeching voice comes from no where.

"Be careful when you call to the void little girl.  You never know what will come.  Right lover!"

The apparition that appears before you is horrid, a tattered and torn woman with a bleeding hole in her fore head.  The remains of a blue jump suit can be seen.  Before even the enhanced reflexes of the Samurai can react, the apparition is gone.

The ferret scampers over to Vanessa and starts to whimper.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:57, Thu 26 Feb 2009.

It was only a short time before Gallus had reached the glade. His burst in, his chainsword whirling and bolt pistol raised. His gaze never left the middle of the clearing."Someone has disturbed the Warp. I can feel it a keenly as a blade. What have you unleashed?" For him, it usually meant one of the psykers on the battlefield had been possessed or mutated into a demented spawn of evil.

As the Space Marine enters the small clearing, the small furry creature called Slick hisses not at him, but at something behind him.  The rodent quickly curls up behind Vanessa with a whimper.  Behind Brother-Sergeant Gallus is not a single specter but legion.  Thousand, tens of thousands.  One of them detaches itself from the crowd, another Space Marine.  The helmet is off, tucked under the arm.  The face is vaguely familiar.

"Everyone bears their own ghosts Brother."

Gallus turned to face the familiar voice. The ghost was still hazy, but he could make out the features of his armor that marked him as one of the Skyhawks Chapter. Gallus lowered the bolt pistol and smiled through the grill of his helmet.

"And those that do learn from them, carry the memory of the fallen so that their sacrifice will not be in vain. That is the creed to our Brothers that we make today. A solemn vow to never forget."

The ending of the pledge came natural. It came because it was true. The Skyhawks were one of the most superstitious Chapters, distrusting things that played with the immaterium and knowing that all fallen Brothers walked beside the Emperor. It was true that many a Skyhawk had gone to battle with no better reason than an insult to their dead.

Vanessa was unfazed by the ghostly apparitions.  She turned to Mason, She yours? She asked puzzled, she had never seen the dead woman before.

This doesn't make a lot of sense. She mused, picking up Slick and tucking him like a fur chollar around her neck.

Gallus. Never mind the theatrics.  Do you recognize the faces of the ghosts?  Do you know them, specific?  Not this 'oh,oh,oh solidiers' generic. I know you're honorable, I want to be clear, did YOU personally KNOW any of those faces?  She asked the large man.

Mason who had drawn his sword and gun, holsters the gun and sheathes the sword.  He stares first at the Gallus then at the apparitions.

"Yes... she is... an old memory."

Gallus never turned away from the man. He knew who it was. Since he heard the voice, he knew. The features the were once blank and fuzzy now stuck with crystal clarity. The large emblem of the Chapter stood above the large laurels of olive leaves surrounding a roman V, standing for the Fifth Company. He new it all too well.

"He is my mentor, Sergeant Novus, of the Fifth Company, Skyhawks Chapter. We served for two centuries together, defeating the enemies of the Emperor. He was cut down when we lost our flank during a Tyranid infestation. I personally recovered his body so that his gene-seed could live on."

Vanessa nodded.  Perhaps Mason's ghost was not a happy one, but she didn't see any overt reason why Gallus's shouldn't be. Okay. She said to the men, and stepped around Gallus who seemed to not be moving.

Hello.  My name is Vanessa.  What is that you want? She asked the apparitions speaking in a firm, but not unfriendly tone.

"Brother, you disappoint."

The ghost hovered a little closer to the Space marine.  Holes begin to form in his armor, as well as his face, but fade soon after they form.

"If you will not explain then I will. It was not by the Tyranids that I fell that day."

a couple of hundred yards behind Gallus, Garrett arrived in the area with the spirits between himself and the others.  Sword in hand he scanned the army between himself and the others with his eyes glowing red.  He could see mystical forces comprising the spirits.  With a thought, he sent two small points of light from the blade's hilt travelling into the air giving him another vantage.

He silently considered the army, evaluating its form, disposition and arrangement.  He couldn't make out the conversation but felt the focus of the situation was around Gallus and the others and attempted a deliberate flanking  maneuver in that general direction.

Gallus didn't move, he was fighting with himself. Novus was dead, caught in the clutches of a Hive Tyrant as he held the thing off for his squad to retreat to a more defensible position. Gallus had watched him speared by the beast's vicious, long blades it called arms. Gallus had taken a lascannon from a dead Devastator Marine and liquefied the thing. Novus had died soon after, Gallus retrieving the body of his mentor when the wave had been repelled.

Images of the scene flashed through his mind. Novus was standing before him. It was bad luck to meet a ghost, so his Brothers said. Why was he here?

"Novus fell to a Hive Tyrant, speared through the chest. There is nothing more to tell."