S.K.R.A.T. One-Three | Chapter 3 | Ver. 1

One week later...

October 22nd, A2013

2:06PM

S.K.R.A.T. 13 HQ

Skrat One-Three is sitting on the fountain steps, watching the entrance from down the hall. Still with the encounter with Rider XV on the top of his mind, he has been doing absolutely nothing since then. He hasn’t been in the arcade, which is unusual for One-Three to do, and he also hasn’t been around any of his fellow members in days; with an exception at the dinner table, of course; but, even then, he refused to pick up his food and eat. The team has grown concerned for Kat Rathbone, and, if I do say so myself, it’s kinda bringing the team down with him. Speaking of...

“Hey, Kat,” greeted Love Shack Oh-Seven as she walked up behind him.

Skrat One-Three turns his attention to Love Shack Oh-Seven.

“Yo, Amelia. What’s up?”

“What’s up with you? You haven’t been in the arcade in days and it looks like you’ve hardly gotten any sleep within that time frame! At dinner, you refuse to eat more than a nibble and hand your leftovers to Lawler! Richard has been looking for a worthy opponent in 5th Strike for the past few days, and as of late, he’s been using Leo as a virtual sandbag! And I...”

“’And I’ what?”

Love Shack Oh-Seven puts her hand on Skrat One-Three’s shoulder.

“And I just want to make sure that you’re feeling okay, y’know? You do know you can always talk to me...right?”

“Uh...right. Sorry about that, Lovelace.”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“Yeah. It’s just that I’m still accessing those words that Rider XV told us. Well, that whole ‘Subject’ thing, really. I-I...I remember that person from long ago.”

“Lemee guess, from the science lab?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s the place. They were dressed in all black, roaming through the containment rooms, breaking most, if not some, of the chambers just for fun...but that’s all I can remember from the times I was allowed to open my eyes. I’m surprised they didn’t break my chamb-”

The doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” announced Love Shack Oh-Seven as she walked toward the door and let the person in.

This person is a tall, Caucasian, person with a short, fluffy, and pink haircut resembling that of a bob, but slightly longer. They wear a black, short-sleeved undershirt with a light green vest on top of the undershirt, and they wear cargo shorts with black, low-top shoes. On their face lie circular glasses and by their side is a dog-like animal, made out of the bones of their friend’s taxidermy collection and the blue, ghoul-like flames of the undead realm. 

“Welcome to S.K.R.A.T. Unit 13 headquarters! Mind introducing yourself and the situation you want us to solve?”

“Of course,” began the person in front of Love Shack Oh-Seven and Skrat One-Three, “I am Bo L’Estrange, and this is my dog, Texas. I’m a blind paranormal investigator who has been led here by Texas because of, well, paranormal activity, if you can even consider that as a legitimate reason to be here.”

Skrat One-Three looks at Bo with a look of disbelief, releasing a chuckle...or two.

“So, lemee get this straight,” Skrat One-Three begins, “we have ghosts in our HQ?”

“Well...”

Bo turns over to Texas.

“Do we, Tex?”

Texas ignites and arfs.

“Yes.”

Skrat One-Three glances over at Love Shack Oh-Seven and back to Bo.

“Well, this is probably the weirdest health inspector I’ve ever encountered in my three years with this organization...I’ll get McCaster,” said Skrat One-Three as he walked off towards Becks Oh-One’s office.

“Sorry about him,” began Love Shack Oh-Seven, “it takes time for him to get accustomed to new clients.”

“It’s okay,” replied Bo to Love Shack Oh-Seven’s apology.

Meanwhile, outside of Becks Oh-One’s office, Skrat One-Three knocks on the door.

“Come in!” yelled Becks Oh-One from behind the door.

Skrat One-Three opens the door and sees Becks Oh-One leaning back in her chair with her legs up on her desk, lounging away.

“Ah, Kat! Glad to see you’re...uh...looking better than petrified! What’s up, dude?”

“Health inspector at the fountain entrance. Weirdest one yet, I must say.”

“I’ll be there to greet them shortly...”

Becks Oh-One’s eyes widened at a particular detail in Skrat One-Three’s last sentence. 

“WAIT, A HEALTH INSPECTOR?!” shouted Becks Oh-One as she gripped her hand around a red, triangular emergency lever in the corner closest to her desk.

“Well...not really,” corrected Skrat One-Three in just enough time for Oh-One to not pull the lever, “This person came here because, firstly, that person’s ‘dog’, or whatever the hell that thing is, led them here. Secondly, they think we have ghosts.”

“Ah,” Oh-One sighed, “I was about to, like, pull that red alert lever that my hand is totally gripping around.”

Becks Oh-One lets go of the lever.

“But seriously, I’ll take this moment to meet this ‘ghost’ inspector. You’ll come with me, yes?”

“Of course.”

Skrat One-Three and Becks Oh-One leave the office and head back in the direction of the fountain entrance.

“Rathbone...” mumbled Becks Oh-One upon arrival to the fountain, “why is there nobody here?”

Skrat One-Three shifts his eyes frantically.

“I swear on my life tha-...”

Skrat One-Three pulls out his cellphone and initiates a call with Love Shack Oh-Seven.

“Swear on your life that you what?” asked Becks Oh-One in curiosity, not noticing that Skrat One-Three is on the phone, “Oh. Never mind.”

“Yo, Amelia!” shouted Skrat One-Three into the phone, “What’d you do with Bo?”

“I took her...”

“Them,” corrected Bo from the background.

“...To the ‘library’ area," continued Love Shack Oh-Seven after being corrected, "You got Rebecca?”

“Yup. We’ll be on our way.”

Skrat One-Three hangs up and turns around to Becks Oh-One.

“To the abandoned bookstore we go.”

“Alright, dude.”

Skrat One-Three and Becks Oh-One walk to the other side of the mall. Once they get there, Bo is still not there. Skrat One-Three begins to show a face full of agitation as he looked towards Love Shack Oh-Seven.

“Alright, Amelia, this isn’t funny. Where’s Bo?”

“Well, firstly, I’m not trying to be funny. Secondly, they were just here a second ago and I really don’t have a clue where they went. They just, uh, disappeared.”

“How?!” questioned Skrat One-Three with a look of confusion.

“Look above!” yelled Becks Oh-One as a blue, tornado-like portal opened over the heads of Skrat One-Three and Love Shack Oh-Seven.

“Ready your weapons, everyone!” shouted Skrat One-Three as he pulled out his dual revolvers.

“Ready!” affirmed Love Shack Oh-Seven in a fighting stance. Becks Oh-One just stands there because she thinks that the two of them are just overreacting as usual.

With the quickness, Bo and Texas reappear in physical form.

“Whoa, guys!” shouted Bo in fright, “I was just strangling a ghost on my radar! Right, Tex?”

Texas arfs and ignites to confirm Bo’s claim.

“Gotcha, man,” said Skrat One-Three as he put his guns back in his holsters and Love Shack Oh-Seven left her fighting stance.

“According to my radar, there are no more ghosts in this mall! I’d ask you to pay me, but...”

“How much?” interrupted Becks Oh-One.

“Well, it would normally cost you about fifteen dollars, given the difficulty of the ghost I had to take down, but there is a way for you to pay me without money.”

“That’s even better! What do you want us to do?”

“Well...you see...” began Bo nervously, “Do you have a private room for us to discuss this mission with, Oh-One?”

“Of course, Bo. I’ll call up the co-founders to join us. Follow me.”

Becks Oh-One and Bo leave the area and head to Becks Oh-One’s office. Love Shack Oh-Seven and Skrat One-Three stand shoulder to shoulder next to each other as they watch Becks Oh-One and Bo walk away.

“Amelia?”

“Yeah?”

“I got a bad feeling about this.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask. I don’t know.”

Three minutes later in Becks Oh-One’s office, Bo and Becks Oh-One are well acquainted by this point. As they wrap up their conversation...

“So, Bo...how’s it going?”

“Unlife has been great!”

...

“Well, aside from the whole ‘being held at gunpoint’ thing.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” apologized Becks Oh-One on behalf of Skrat One-Three, “One-Three doesn’t take new clients well...at least those with extraterrestrial abilities.”

“Gotcha.”

...Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight and dejaVu Oh-Two walk into Becks Oh-One’s office. In that order, mind you.

“Top of the morning, client,” greeted Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight.

“What’s up, friendo?” greeted dejaVu Oh-Two.

Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight extends his hand to Bo.

“I’m Richard Lane, but, please call me Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight. Just trying to get that famous author spotlight off my back.”

dejaVu Oh-Two extends his hand to Bo as well.

“I’m Isiah Jacobs, but you can call be dejaVu Oh-Two. I’m trying to get that famous magi-”

“Jacobs, don’t steal my-” Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight jumped in as he tried to interrupt dejaVu Oh-Two’s introduction.

“-cian spotlight off my back. Shazamawhama!” finished dejaVu Oh-Two with a strong finish to mark the occasion.

“Goddammit, Jacobs.”

Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight and dejaVu Oh-Two return their attention to Bo.

“You get the idea," finished Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight.

Bo shakes the hands of both men before they head to their respective seats next to the corner of the room. Bo, sitting from the other side of Becks Oh-One’s desk, glides their eyes across the room, waiting for any word to provoke a reaction; a conversation starter.

“So,” Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight began in a soft voice, “what’s your dilemma?”

“Well...” Bo began as they looked in Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight’s direction, “try not to laugh at me for this, but my apartment is having a ghost problem. The unfortunate thing here is that I, a professional ghost eradicator, can’t take them on alone.”

“I see-” replied Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight before the sounds of chuckles from dejaVu Oh-Two rang in his right ear, interrupting him in the process.”

“What? Are they being serious?” questioned dejaVu Oh-Two as he tried to contain his laughter. He is then elbowed in the ribs by Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight.

“Yes, they are, Isiah. Let them speak,” interjected Becks Oh-One before she turned her attention to Bo, “This seems pretty interesting! Can you, like, describe the situation?”

Bo clears their throat.

“Over the last month, my apartment has been overrun with ghosts. My ghost radar has been blinking and beeping at constant, ridiculous paces; and, since it can’t be turned off, it keeps Tex and I up until the wee hours of the morning just trying to get some sleep. And-”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight at that detail. 

“It’s okay.”

Bo clears their throat again.

“Ever since a man with beige tattered clothes, a green jacket, and a dark hood started sitting in front of our apartment complex, ghost readings have been off the charts; bringing in ten to fifteen new ghosts on a daily basis, and all of them are at a rather high difficulty level for just one ghost eradicator to handle. This problem has gotten so out of hand that the other residents or the landlord can’t sleep, and if I don’t find a way to take care of this problem soon, I’ll be kicked out of my apartment.”

“So, essentially, a hobo is summoning ghosts onto your apartment complex and everyone is placing the blame on you and you’re gonna succumb to that level of living if you don’t fix the problem soon,” recapped dejaVu Oh-Two.

“Exactly. Also, Isiah, we don’t call homeless people ‘hobos’. S.K.R.A.T. guidebook, preamble eleven, article seven,” Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight reminded dejaVu Oh-Two.

“Gotcha.”

Bo starts tearing up at the situation at hand.

“Oh, come on! Now they’re exploiting the power of tears!” yelled dejaVu Oh-Two in reaction to Bo’s action.

Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight elbows dejaVu Oh-Two again.

“Isiah, you, too, were in a similar situation. At seventeen, you were kicked out by your drugged up, alcoholic father. His reasons were plain and simple: He wanted you to be a preacher and not the magician you are today. He believed that magic was a “lost art”, an “activity of the devil”. At twenty-four, during a book tour of mine, the last one before I dedicated everything in my life to this organization, I met you, bloodied up against the walls of a dark alleyway after a beatdown from a fellow homeless person on the streets with a glass bottle. At the moment I met you,  your clothes were torn, your hair was messy, and all the classifications of a stereotypical homeless person was quickly rolled into one person. That same night, I took you under my wing; fully supporting your magical upbringing and driving you to your charity shows for hospitals with cancer patients, keeping a roof over your head, keeping you clean, and keeping you fed. All of that was done with my own money, mind you. Hell, I pretty much acted like a better father than your father could ever be.”

Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight pauses and sighs to relieve himself.

“Put yourself in Bo’s situation and think about your past in comparison. I’m sure you don’t want another person going through what you went through, yes?”

“...”

dejaVu Oh-Two is holding his hands over his face, visibly and audibly holding back tears. Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight envelopes him in a hug.

“I’m sorry, Mister Lane.”

“It’s okay, Jacobs.”

“So,” began Becks Oh-One, “are we, like, in favor of doing this mission, dudes?”

“Yes,” replied Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight, still holding dejaVu Oh-Two close.

dejaVu Oh-Two shortly mumbles under his breath.

“...And a ‘yes’ from Isiah.”

“Radical!” shouted Becks Oh-One as she turned over to Bo, “Well, it appears that we will gladly embark on your mission proposal!”

Becks Oh-One pulls out a clipboard from under the table with an agreement attached onto it.

“Now, just sign this agreeme-”

“Already done,” said Bo before they even considered picking up the clipboard, “When will this be executed?”

“W-well, any time in the next twenty-four hours,” began Becks Oh-One with an expression of shock from the premature agreement signing, “One of our many team members will call you before we hit up your apartment complex.”

“Awesome,” replied Bo as they rose out of their chair, “Thank you so much.”

Bo shakes everyone’s hand again and walks out with Texas trailing behind them. The door closes.

“Meeting at nine?” asked Becks Oh-One.

dejaVu Oh-Two mumbles again.

“He says yes,” Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight confirms.

Hours later, all members of S.K.R.A.T. 13 meet in a room with a large, oval table in the middle and windows and shutters surrounding it. Each chair is numbered and colored in correspondence to the member who represents it. 

At the end of one side of the room, there is a projector screen descending slowly from the slot in the ceiling where it is stored. As this is happening, members are chatting with each other; either next to each other or across the table. After a few more seconds, the meeting begins:

“My fellow members, the verdict is in...” began Gutsy Gibbon Oh-Five as he rolled up to the screen in his wheelchair, “We’re doing the mission.”

“Interesting,” chimed in Skrat One-Three in mild disbelief, “This person really things that we’re those four guys who fought a god and a giant marshmallow, huh?”

“I thought you liked the Gho-”

“However!” shouted Gutsy Gibbon Oh-Five, calling attention back to him, “I do have a plan conveniently stored for this occasion; a plan that took me three years to perfect!”

“Three years? Why did you plan this thing out that long ago?” asked Apollo Oh-Four.

“Listen, when you’re a mission coordinator for a team of thirteen, you gotta stay on top of things and always have a plan ready. That said, everybody, feast your eyes on the screen before you." 

Every member looks at the screen. There are three maps filled with dots, images of the interiors and exteriors, and an icon legend on the lower right part of the screen.

“This is an apartment complex, and you wanna know what those contain?”

...

“Peo-” began Pegasus One-One, before she was cut off.

“People!” shouted Gutsy Gibbon Oh-Six to continue his strategy’s explanation, “Of course, there’s people! From my scans and various visits to the complex, there is a fire alarm in the main lobby...and three others located throughout. Someone will be given the duty to pull one of them to clear out the building. Once we do that, it’s all about going loud from there. If we kill enough of those ghosts, that man that Bo described will make his way towards the chaos. We kill him, the ghosts vanish, and Bo can live their unlife again in peace. This mission will be easy, as long as no other interruptions like B.A.N.E. come along.”

“Yo, ‘Tavio!” called Apollo Oh-Four from across the room.

“What is it, Leo?” asked Gutsy Gibbon Oh-Six in response.

“I got a suggestion: One of us should dress the part of a firefighter to pull the fire alarm? I mean, we’d appear as a respected member of a profession, rather than a group of trouble-making rascals.”

“That is a rather excellent idea. Sure, it may dig into the team’s budget for this month...”

Becks Oh-One pouts jokingly.

“...but it will be effective in making us less suspicious to the nearby tenants. Thank you for your contribution.”

Gutsy Gibbon Oh-Six types on his keyboard to add Apollo Oh-Four’s suggestion to the mission’s strategy. He picks up a hat placed in the corner of the room with several scraps of paper within the interior. He, then, redirects his attention to the rest of the room.

“Now, for the mission, we will send five random members on the field, and those five are...Lady Kenmore Oh-Nine...dejaVu Oh-Two...Apollo Oh-Four...Oneiric Ocelot One-Zero...and Love Shack Oh-Seven. You five will be on location at 7:30 tomorrow night. If any of you have a problem with that time, let me know now.”

Nobody responds verbally, but there are high-fives flying across the table from the members picked to go on the mission.

“Alright! Seeing how everyone is comfortable with the mission arrangements, this meeting is adjourned. Get some rest, because you have one big blaring alarm ahead of you.”

Gutsy Gibbon Oh-Six rolls towards the back exit as the projector shuts down and the projector screen slowly goes up into the ceiling storage area. The other members, with the exception of Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight and Skrat One-Three, follow suit and leave the meeting room. Once the room clears and quiets down, the remaining two begin to speak.

“So, Kat...” began Jaunty Jackalope Oh-Eight with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, man?”

“Wanna play some sets in 5th Strike while they’re gone on tomorrow’s mission?”

“Absolutely!” yelled Skrat One-Three excitedly, “We still have some unfinished business with your Urina and my Akumu...I even studied Q-roda’s DVD material, y’feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you...I did the same thing with his Urina strategies; so you better be prepared to get hit by a flurry of Aegis Deflector shots on wakeup from one of your lazily thrown fireballs.”

The duo begins to walk out the room as they continue speaking.

“’Lazily thrown fireballs’?! I’ll let you know that I’ve been letting go of that habit!”

“Suuuure, somebody on MightCade told you that?”

“...Yes.”

“Thought so.”

The door to the meeting room closes to a locked state, indicated by a loud click.