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"Do you think he used to be a music lover when he was alive?" Abby wondered, scanning the darkened vinyl record store. "This is the second time we've found him in a musically inclined location. Maybe this feels like home to him." She and Erin drifted to the far right side of the store, while Patty and Jillian spread out on the left. The building had been evacuated and the electricity had been cut by the time they got there, the only sound the high-pitched hum of their equipment.
"I think he has bad taste," Patty muttered. "Did you hear that band that was playing at the Stonebrook?" It wasn't a large record store. They could easily keep in contact with each other without the use of radios. Also she could keep all her teammates in sight, which Patty thought made this much better than their usual busts.
Erin shifted uneasily, trying to catch sight of anything in the store that seemed out of place. Their perpetrator liked to possess things to hide in, taking great delight in springing out at the last minute. She followed behind Abby, who had the PKE meter. "I just hate facing the ones we've gone up against before," she said worriedly. "I feel like he knows all our tricks by now. This is the third time in a month we've tried to pin him down, it's like he's got really good at it!"
"Well they say third time's the charm," Abby said, shrugging.
Erin had a habit of babbling a bit when she was nervous. "He was the first successful test of our equipment, remember? Maybe this is fate? Maybe he's supposed to be the lovable green scamp that always shows up, causes some mischief, and then escapes at the last minute to bother us again another day. You know, like a mascot?" She raised her eyebrows at her teammates hopefully.
Patty rolled her eyes. "He has literally killed people, Erin. I don't think he gets a 'get out of jail free card.' Back me up, Holtzy."
The petite blond grabbed her proton pistols. "Nobody knows all my tricks--least of all myself," she said, which seemed to be her way of agreeing. "Party at one o'clock!" Her three teammates jumped as twin streams of protons lit up the darkened store, streaking toward the back wall. A life-sized cardboard cutout of Sting was haloed in light in the instant before contact. Afterward, a smoking hole remained where the smirking face had once been.
"Oops. I mean, successful test. Ha."
Erin sighed.
Abby paced down one of the narrow aisles between shelves of records and cardboard sleeves. "Well he's definitely still here," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Maybe if we piss him off enough he'll come out."
Erin was just a step behind her. She stopped and peered at an old CRT-style television that sat at the end of one of the aisles, a fat little device complete with "rabbit ears" antenna. For a moment she wondered if it was functional or just decoration to help the ambiance of the nostalgic vinyl store, but suddenly it became a moot point. With a metallic screech, the rabbit ears on top of the TV bent themselves into clawed hands that reached for her.
Erin shrieked--it wasn't fear, it was a war cry to shake up the ghost, definitely--and her thumb slammed the button on her thrower. Immediately she jumped back to avoid debris as the TV exploded in a plume of shattered glass and smoke. In the back of her mind she took a moment to be thankful she had insisted their new insurance policy be in place before they took on any more of these close-quarters busts.
At least it had the desired effect. The smoking hole in the TV lit up with an urgent green glow and a wave of ethereal ectoplasm pushed past her, the ghost fleeing the device. He shot up into the air in the center of the record store and hovered, beady red eyes looking down at the four Ghostbusters with an expression of glee on his reptilian features.
"There he is!" Patty barked. "Circle up, ladies!"
They were in a prime position to surround the ghost Erin had nicknamed Mayhem. (It was an appropriate name, since he seemed to delight in causing as much trouble and property destruction as possible wherever he went.) Trying to act before he could react, they lashed out with four proton streams in the hopes of catching him in a cage of energy.
Mayhem, however, was as agile as he was troublesome. He flared his draconic wings and passed through the ceiling of the shop, while the proton streams left scorch marks across the ceiling tiles. As soon as they let up on their streams, the green ghost swooped back down. He skimmed just over their heads, letting out a mighty screech that somehow sounded like it was laughing at them while they scattered for cover. Abby and Erin both ducked behind a display of Top 50's Hits, but Patty crashed into an endcap of cassettes that fell over in a clatter.
"C'mon, girls!" Abby shouted encouragement. "This can't be our Waterloo!"
"I agree, it should be our 'Dancing Queen' or 'Take a Chance on Me'," Jillian said.
"She didn't mean the ABBA song," Erin sighed, trying to herd Mayhem toward Abby's stream using her own.
"How do you know?" Jillian asked, sounding honestly curious.
Patty picked herself up off the floor just in time to get a faceful of slime as Mayhem swooped down and smacked directly into her, screeching angrily. Perhaps remembering their first encounter, he grabbed her shoulders in his large talons and tried to lift her into the air. In the background, Abby yelped for the other two to hold their fire.
"Okay, that is IT!" Patty growled, spitting green goo away from her mouth. The tall Ghostbuster had been working on being prepared for all contingencies, and this time her preparation had paid off. As Mayhem yanked her higher into the air, Patty allowed her thrower to drop and pulled out the Proton Glove hooked to the side of her pack. Instantly the darkened record store was lit up in a burst of protonic sparks, as her uppercut connected with the ghost's chin. The impact was enough to cause Mayhem to drop her as he was flung backward directly toward Erin, who managed to thumb her thrower in time to catch him in her stream.
"You got him!" Abby called out in delight, craning her neck to look over a shelf of records to make sure Patty was okay. She was slimed and sitting in a pile of smashed music cassettes, but didn't seem injured. Quickly Abby turned and added her proton stream to Erin's. Mayhem screamed, a sound like a needle scratching a record made of glass, but he couldn't escape.
"Trap him trap him!" Erin gasped.
"Got it," Jillian said in a singsong, tossing out the trap out in the picture of nonchalance. It rolled into place under the writhing spirit and then it was all over. Silence fell and all light cut out, leaving the room dark and still. Cassettes crunched as Patty got to her feet. Abby coughed and fanned smoke from the broken TV away from her face.
"I'm glad our insurance is in place," Erin sighed reverently.
"I need a towel," Patty muttered. "Nasty."