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ghost-on-my-trick-till-i · 4 months ago

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Ghost Trick: Small Difference

Chapter Five

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fic below the cut

8:34 PM

Riding the red phone line, I wonder how it's come to this.

I don't know much about the police, or any part of the government, but I don't think it's very acceptable to spy on prisoners, even if I'm just checking on their wellbeing.

However, this is the only lead I have left to follow, and I hope that somewhere along the line I'll be able to reunite with Yomiel.

Arriving at my destination, I am able to get a better look at this office-like space. The room is small and only has two officers occupying it, the one who was talking on the phone and another one off to the right. The phone officer is sitting up impossibly straight, to the point where his back is curving inwards. The second officer is the opposite, sitting in the world's worst slouch.

“So how are the preparations coming along?” The hunchback officer asks his colleague.

“I think they're taking care of them right now.” The other replies.

“Yeah? Man… I'm not looking forward to this…” The slouch sighs.

“That kind of surprises me, coming from you. I didn't know you thought about such things.” He pauses. “By the way, that was me being sarcastic. Just in case you didn't catch that…”

“Two and a half more hours… and then it will be time.” The hunchback sighs.

“I guess we should just get back to work.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right.”

The two officers turn their chairs around to face their desks, and the straight-back officer pins a note to his board.

The atmosphere sure seems tense… I guess I'll get back to my work as well. Alma has asked me to check on prisoner D99 for whatever reason. However, I am unsure where the prisoner is kept, and how to get there.

It'd be best to try and get some information first.

In the ghost world, there's only a few things within my reach. Two notes attached to the wall, and a monitor hung on the ceiling. There's another monitor to my right but it's just out of reach.

The monitor is untrickable, so I return to one of the notes on the wall, the one that the officer had just hung up a few moments ago. I trick the note and it falls off the wall. The hunchback notices its fall and turns his chair around to catch it midair.

The officer waves the paper in his hand. “Hey, Bailey.” He calls out.

The other officer, Bailey, turns around to face his colleague.

“Try pinning up your memos a little better next time.” The slouch says. “Lemme see this thing… “Inspection, prisoner C74””

“Oh it's almost time for that. I better prepare.”

“Prisoner C74, eh?” The slouch ponders. “What did that big whale do anyway?”

“You don't know? About the “Metro Police Department Siege” case?” Bailey asks.

“Metro who-what?”

“C74 barricaded himself into the Metro Police Department and took siege of the place.” Bailey explains. “He even pointed a huge flamethrower at the chief commissioner.”

“Why the heck did he do all that?”

“That's what the detectives that surrounded him asked, too. “What are your demands?!”, they asked.” Bailey answers.

“And..?”

“The guy was unable to answer, he just stood there completely paralysed. He apparently had a very shocked and confused look on his face.” Bailey explains.

“He didn't say anything? Was that all he did?”

“Unfortunately, no. after a few minutes of holding him hostage…” Bailey pauses. “He touched the commissioner's office. With the flamethrower. Touched it good. Important documents, and the commissioner's moustache, were destroyed by the flames.”

“What the heck did he do all that for?!”

“Just like before, when he was questioned he gave no answer.” Bailey says.

“Huh, is the guy just crazy or something?”

“Nobody truly knows, but the case sent shockwaves throughout the country.” Bailey continues.

“But that doesn't make any sense! In the first place…” The slouch pauses. “How did a huge, armed guy make it to the commissioners office alone?”

“It's a complete mystery.”

“What?! Why don't they just ask C74 himself?!”

“Maybe they did, but they haven't released anything about it.” Bailey pauses. “Apparently, it's all a matter of national secrecy…”

The slouch grumbles, before crumpling the memo and throwing it across the room into Baileys trash can.

Bailey yells in annoyance and spins around in his chair dramatically. He then hops out of his chair and clenches his fists. “Will you quit throwing my important duty memos away?!”

The slouch doesn't reply, instead spinning his chair around to face his desk, Bailey soon does the same.

Hmm, what an interesting case. A big guy took siege of a police department without anyone knowing how, and when asked for demands he doesn't answer and torches the place anyway? It's incredibly strange.

I move from out of the trash can and on to the other memo Bailey has hung up, and release it. The paper falls and the slouch catches it again.

“Hey, Bailey.”

Bailey swings his chair around again.

“Whatsa matter, you can't even pin up a memo properly?” The hunchback looks at the paper. “Lemme see this thing… “Take prisoner C38 to the telephone room”.”

“Yes he made a request to use the phone a little while ago.” Bailey clarifies.

“You already told me that earlier.” He pauses. “C38, eh? What did that punk do, anyway?”

“You've never heard the story? About the “Secret Rendezvous” case?” Bailey asks.

“Secret who-what?”

“C38 was a singer in a band. His group was playing at a concert that was being broadcast all over the country live. And right in the middle of their encore there was a “huge incident”.”

“A “Huge Incident”? What was it, a murder or something?”

“Almost, When C38 was singing his song, Secret Rendezvous, he suddenly stopped before the final chorus when something strange occurred.” Bailey starts.

“Something strange?”

“A gun dropped from above the stage and C38 started shooting up the crowd.”

“What?! Did anyone die?”

“Miraculously there were no deaths.” Bailey says. “Witnesses say that paranormal-like activity saved many people that night.”

“What paranormal activity?! That doesn't make any sense!” The slouch huffs. “Why didn't his band-mates do anything?!”

“They tried, but apparently he was abnormally strong and they couldn't stop him.” Bailey pauses. “They claimed to have even teamed up all together to stop him but even that wasn't enough against his abnormal strength.”

“How could he fight off his entire band?! Where'd that gun come from anyway?!”

“We don't know, the guards backstage claimed that no one went above the stage during the performance.”

“Why the hell would he even do it?!”

“After the gun ran out of bullets his band-mates started demanding why he had just done a thing, but he gave no response.”

“Seriously?!”

“Apparently, all he had to give them was a scared and confused look on his face.” Bailey explains.

“But that doesn't make any sense! Where'd that gun come from and how was the crowd saved?!”

“No one knows, If anyone had figured it out they hadn't released anything about it.” Bailey pauses. “Apparently, it's all a matter of national secrecy…”

The slouch grumbles, before crumpling the memo and throwing it across the room into Baileys trash can.

Bailey yells in annoyance and spins around in his chair dramatically. He then hops out of his chair and clenches his fists. “Will you quit throwing my important duty memos away?!”

The slouch doesn't reply, instead spinning his chair around to face his desk, Bailey soon does the same.

Now this case really does interest me. “Paranormal activity”? Is it possible that a ghost was there that day? But that doesn't explain how he got so “Abnormally strong”.

Not a moment later, Bailey stands up to hang another memo on his board.

I wonder what kind of info I'll get from this one.

I remove myself from the trashcan once more and insert myself into the hanging note. I manipulate the memo into falling down, and just like before the slouch notices and catches it midair.

“Hey, Bailey”

Bailey turns around in his chair again.

“Lemme see this thing… “Bring Dinner To prisoner D99”.” The slouch reads.

“The chef is preparing it for him right now.”

“Ooh, how fancy.” The slouch pauses. “D99, eh? Even i know about this one.”

“Yeah..?” Bailey sighs. “Such a sad case… hard for us, too…”

“He shot his fellow detective, didn't he? Right outside in the courtyard?”

Bailey stays silent.

“It's just awful! Why in the world did he do it?!” The slouch winces. “Why would he of all people do that, and why would he shoot him out of all people?!”

“The motive, everything, all a complete mystery.”

“It's just ridiculous! It doesn't make sense that he would do anything like that!” The slouch yells.

“I don't know the details, but apparently…” Bailey pauses. “This case is a matter of national secrecy as well…”

“I don't get it! None of it makes any sense!”

“You do know what kind of prison this is, don't you?” Bailey asks. “It's a special prison, built for these special cases…”

“D99… I wonder if he thought he could just breeze past the consequences like that flowy coat of his breezes in the wind.” The slouch grumbles. “I don't like any of it. I knew I couldn't take my job seriously without it getting to me.”

So the prisoner I'm looking for, D99, was convicted of murder, eh? And apparently he wears a flowy coat…

The slouch grumbles, before crumpling the memo and throwing it across the room into Baileys trash can.

Bailey yells in annoyance and spins around in his chair dramatically. He then hops out of his chair and clenches his fists. “Will you quit throwing my important duty memos away?!”

The slouch doesn't reply, instead spinning his chair around to face his desk, Bailey soon does the same.

Bailey hangs up another memo, but before I'm able to get up there, the slouch gasps a little.

“It's time.” He reminds Bailey.

In the room beside me I can hear a door open as two pairs of feet walk in. Along with the footsteps I hear an awful screeching noise. Thankfully, the noise stops pretty quickly and the room goes mostly silent.

Back in the room I'm in, I see the hunchback officer finish making a tower of cards, and gently puts a fancy glass filled with red juice on top.

“There! It's done!” He says proudly.

I remove myself from the trash can and enter the new memo. I don't think I can get any more information out of these two, but the people next door feel like they can be my lead to where the prisoners are held.

I free the note and let it fall, where the slouch catches it like usual. I quickly move to a nearby switch before listening to their conversation.

“Hey, Bailey. Would you quit sending these memos over here?”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“Not until I figure out how you always know the exact instant a memo starts falling…” Bailey pauses dramatically. “Not until I solve that mystery!”

The slouch doesn't say anything else, before crumpling the memo and throwing it across the room into Baileys trash can.

Bailey yells in annoyance and spins around in his chair dramatically. He then hops out of his chair and clenches his fists. “Next time! I will find the answer next time!”

As I thought, these two don't have anything else important to say.

Looking around, there's nowhere else to go from this switch. The only thing I can do at this point is flip it, so I do exactly that.

Suddenly an alarm starts blaring in the room, red lights above start flashing, and a cabinet in the centre of the room opens up to reveal all sorts of weaponry.

Bailey yells in frustration while spinning his chair to face his coworker. He hops out of his chair. “There you go again! Fooling around with that thing!”

The slouch turns around in his chair with a grumble. “It wasn't me.”

“Don't lie! You know you love to see me jump up and prepare for an emergency!” Bailey exclaims.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Way back when I first got this job. But I've had enough of that now. Besides, you always react the same way.”

Bailey grumbles.

“The emergency switch is probably just loose. Probably because I fooled around with it too much…”

“Well, it's for emergencies! Don't play with it!”

“Anyways, it wasn't me. Maybe you oughta get it repaired, huh?”

“Well, close it back up! It's making me feel on edge.” Bailey says.

“Nah, too much of a pain.”

“A pain?!” Bailey exclaims. “Proper emergency procedures are “a pain” to you?! What a sad, sad state of affairs…”

Bailey doesn't sit back down, and the hunchback just ignores his nervous head looking back and forth.

I use this as an opportunity to leave the room, with the switch in a higher position I am able to climb up to the glass of juice onto a monitor onto a camera in the next room.

In the room there's a guard and one of the prisoners. The prisoner has spiky pink hair and a strange looking toy is sat beside him. That must be the noisemaker I heard earlier.

I move down from the camera onto a button, beside me in the door handle. I press the button to see what it does and the door beside me opens. The guard standing nearby notices that the door is now ajar and presses the button to close it again.

I press the button again, but I move from the button to the door handle before it gets out of my reach, then I quickly move from the door to the noisemaker before the guard can close it.

If I had to guess, this prisoner is the rock star that shot up a crowd. Not who I'm looking for.

I sit in the noisemaker for a moment, waiting for the rocker to be done. He'll carry this thing back to his cell and hopefully that'll bring me closer to the prisoner I seek.

“Peace out!” The rocker speaks into the phone before returning it to its home. “I'm done.” He alerts the guard.

The guard opens the door then marches over to the prisoner. “All right, C38! Back to your cell!”

“Hey, guard man, how about given’ me a little bit of space?” the rocker chuckles. “That craaazy walk of yours is dangerous, man!”

The guard backs up a few steps. “A proper walk for a properly led life! Now, let's go!”

“Yo! No lectures, man… I walk my own path, my own way, to my own music!”

The rocker picks up the noisemaker and begins to play it as the guard leads the rocker out of the room, carrying me with him. Hopefully the walk isn't that long, I don't know how much more of this noise I can take…

After a thankfully short walk later, I'm taken to where the prisoners are held. The guard places the rocker back in his cell before marching off.

So I finally made it. Now to find prisoner D99 and check up on him, and hopefully find something out about everything happening tonight.

Inside the cell, the rocker continues to make his awful noise. “Damn!” He exclaims. “Don't think I can take another second in this stinkin’ pit!” The rocker checks his nearby surroundings. “Looks like guard man is gone.” He rips a piece of paper with an “O” on it from the wall, scrunches it up, and throws it in the nearby toilet. “All this waitin’ is wipin’ me out! I hope this one’ll finally do it.” He walks over to the toilet and flushes it. “Go, go, go!” he exclaims as the paper gets sent down through the pipes below. “C’mon Sausage Head!”

That looks like my exit. I just have to figure out how to make him do that again. I move from the noisemaker to the two stacks of paper hung up on the wall. One is all marked with “O”s and the other is marked with “X”s. They are symbols of some sort but I can't for the life of me remember what they mean.

From the papers I move to the toilet and from the toilet I notice a phone just outside the cell. Nice! Phones are always nice to have nearby. I enter the phone and notice something odd about it. It seems this phone only connects to other phones in the prison, so far that's only the guards office i was in earlier but if i find other phones then i can move to them, but not outside of that.

Above the phone is an emergency switch. I can already feel myself getting a little trigger happy just looking at it. Unable to resist the urge, I move to the emergency switch and pull it.

Immediately alarms begin to blare throughout the building, and guards come from all over to inspect the area. Sweat begins to build on the rockers face as he quickly moves over to the papers on the wall.

This might be my chance! I move from the switch to the papers with “X”s. I'm not completely sure which of the two papers he'll flush this time but I'm hoping it's this one.

To my luck, the rocker rips off a paper with an “X” and quickly flushes it down the toilet. “Go, go, go!”

Now, I'm not the happiest about being flushed down a toilet, but if it's my only way down then I guess I don't have much of a choice.

Riding down the pipes, I realise I have no idea where I'm going, hopefully somewhere productive. After the short journey a hook grabs onto the paper and I hear the sound of a bell ringing above me. The sounds of odd shuffling can also be heard before the rope starts to pull me up.

A prisoner pulls the paper off of the hook and I'm able to get a good look at him, but I do regret it. The man is large and is wearing a bib on top of his prison uniform. Most disturbingly is his head, as it is too long and wobbles about uncomfortably. I understand why the rocker called him sausage head.

Sausage head crumples up the paper and drops it in a nearby trash can. He then takes the back of the toilet and moves it to cover a large hole in the wall.

Just what is going on in this strange prison?

Sausage man then hops onto his bed, and a strange device attaches to his head. It makes me unimaginably uncomfortable.

I would like to get out of here as soon as possible.

From the lack of flowy coat, and the largeness of this man, I deduce that this must be the guy from the police department siege case. In other words, not the guy I'm looking for.

From the trash bin I can reach the back of the toilet, the bell above, a blackboard hung on the wall, and the light on the ceiling. The blackboard doesn't interest me and the light above does lead anywhere so instead I turn my attention to the bell, as it's the only interactable thing in the room.

I ring the bell and sausage head gets up from his bed, and grabs a spoon sitting beside him. I move from the bell to the light on the ceiling, and as sausage head picks up the spoon I enter it. It's the only thing here that i haven't been in so it must be my way out of this awful room.

Sausage head carries the spoon over to the toilet, and pulls the rope up like he did before. He gives a confused look as he sees nothing on the hook but doesnt think about it much, and throws the spoon back to the cup on his bedside. Directly to my left is another phone.

Finally! My exit! I excitedly exit the spoon and move to the phone. This phone, like the last one, only connects to other phones in the prison, but now at least I have an easier method of going up and down.

To the left of the phone is the toilet of another cell, hopefully inside this one is the man I'm looking for. I move from the phone to the toilet in great anticipation.

The man in the next cell is pacing his room back and forth. He has a few papers in his hands and is reading over them intensely. The man himself has a defined jaw and nose, with sideburns and greying hair. The walls of the cell are covered in similar papers covered in tiny scribbles. However, to my delight, the man is wearing a long, flowy coat.

This must be who I'm looking for, and from the looks of things, he isn't doing well.

“Come on, baby, there has to be a connection somewhere…” The man speaks to himself.

The guards from before mentioned that this man was once a detective, I wonder if these papers are for an investigation. I wonder if his investigation somehow relates to what's happening tonight.

Many of the papers have cores, so I quickly move to the closest one to read it.

…

Tonight, I have lost a lot of things, my life, my memory…

But there is a certain skill that I have apparently lost, too…

I can't read!

I can see that there is some kind of writing on the paper…

But I have absolutely no idea what it means!

I stare dumbfounded at the paper in front of me. How have I managed to lose the ability to read?! These papers could have been important towards my investigation!

I move my attention from my illiteracy to the pacing man in the cell. According to the guards this man had shot another detective. I can't imagine why he'd do something like that, and I also can't imagine what seems to be worrying him so much.

The man continues to pace anxiously around the room, reading his notes. Occasionally he'll stop pacing to read something on the walls, but then will continue his march.

“There isn't much time leeeft, I gotta figure this out now.” He speaks to himself.

Unfortunately for Alma, the man she's worried about seems to have been driven insane. The anxious pacing, the mumbles to himself, the walls covered in nothing but notes, it all comes together to create a creepy vibe that I am not enjoying.

I'd hate to bring Alma bad news but it's very clear that this man is not okay, but there's nothing I can do about this.

I move from the paper on the wall back to the toilet, but just as I get there I hear a voice call out.

“D99, dinner!” The voice yells. D99 puts down the papers he was holding and pulls out a small table and chair from beneath his bed. A guard walks in, holding a large chicken. The guard places the chicken on the table and D99 sits himself down.

“Weeell, won't you look at this.” D99 says, eyeing the chicken. “I'm getting spoooiled rotten tonight.”

The guard stares intently at the prisoner.

“Oh,” D99 sighs. “It's cold though, what a shame!”

The guard continues to stare. “D99..?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Know it's kinda pointless to ask now, but…” The guard pauses. “But just the same, I want to know. Why did you do it?!”

D99 pauses before letting out a forced chuckle. “You know you won’t like the answer I'll give, it's the same one I always give, baby.”

The guard pauses. “Detective Cabanela…”

“Why don't you leave me to eat in peace? Wouldn't want to disturb this moment would you, baby?”

The guard stays silent as D99, Cabanela, moves more papers off of the small table. After a few moments the guard speaks. “There's one more thing I've been wondering for a long time.”

Cabanela turns his head towards the guard. “And what's that, baby?”

“What are you writing in all these papers?”

Cabanela shuffles the papers in his hands before putting down all but one. “Even with how long I've been here, I can't just stop my investigations. I'm a detective at heart and no time in the slammer is taking that away from me.” Cabanela begins while grabbing a thumb tack from a desk.

“But how could you possibly be investigating in here?”

“You underestimate me, baby.” Cabanela slams the paper against the wall with one hand, completely covering whatever's on it. “Just because I don't have my freedom doesn't mean I don't have what I need to investigate.”

“Just what exactly are you investigating anyway?”

Cabanela tacks the paper to the wall. “Just two suspicious folk.” Cabanela lets go of the paper, letting it hang on the wall and relieving the contents on it.

I move closer to the paper, I may not be able to read but from what I could see from the distance I don't think that'll be a problem.

Just like I suspected, the paper's contents is not scribbled writing like every other paper in this room, but a drawing. While Cabanelas drawing isn't perfect, it's easy to understand.

A man with hair slicked back to one point wearing sunglasses and a suit. A woman with two cone shaped hair buns with a triangular bang and an impractical outfit.

This is…

Yomiel and Sissel?!

“I don't understand, why are you investigating these two?” The guard asks, inspecting the drawing.

“It's not anything you need to be worried about, baby.” Cabanela turns to face the guard. “Now why won't you let a man eat in peace?”

“Okay, sure. Sorry to bother you.” The guard says before leaving the cell.

What in the world..? What in the world could this mean..? Why is there a drawing of Yomiel and Sissel in this man's cell?

Who exactly is this prisoner? The man that Alma expressed great worry about is a detective investigating Yomiel and Sissel!

I have to find Yomiel and Sissel again. Everything that's been happening tonight has all somehow connected back to them, there has to be more that they aren't telling me.

Eventually this all will connect back to me, right?

I leave the cell and travel through the phone line to the guards office as soon as I can. From here I can go wherever I want.

When I reach the guard room the phone is ringing. Bailey stops whatever he’s writing to pick up the phone.

On the other side of the phone I see a man with a moustache and a large chin.

“This is headquarters. What's the status over there?”

“Oh, Chief! it's you!” Bailey gasps. “They're making preparations now. No problems, sir!”

“How much longer, then?” The chief asks.

“One more hour, sir.” Bailey replies.

“I see, carry on then.” The chief pauses for a brief moment. “Oh, one more thing. I have a special request from the inspector.”

“What is it sir?”

“She wants you to report any suspicious activity at all, anything that seems at all unusual is to be reported directly to her or me.”

“Understood sir.” Bailey says before hanging up the phone.

“What was that about?” The hunchback guard asks Bailey.

“Just the chief checking in on preparations.” Bailey answers. “And I was given a special request from the inspector to report anything odd.”

“The chief and the inspector, huh?” The slouch sighs. “Everyones on edge today.”

“Of course they are, this is the most important day the industry has had in decades.”

“It is, isn't it?” the slouch pauses. “Really makes you think if it's the right thing to do.”

“It was what was decided by the justice minister, there's no point thinking about that now.”

“I know, it's just…” The slouch grumbles and slams his fist against his desk, knocking down his tower of cards and the glass on top of it.

“What's wrong?” Bailey asks his coworker.

“Jowd was my hero, y’know. I wanted to be a detective because of him.”

Jowd? That's not a name I've heard before.

“But look at me! Rottin’ away in a place like this! And I can't help but wonder if that this is what he would've wanted.” the slouch exclaims.

“Detective Jowd and Detective Cabanela had always been great friends.” Bailey begins. “They were two of the best in the industry…”

“Then Cabanela just had to go and shoot him, ruining both of their futures and the future of the industry.” the slouch groans. “Nothings been the same since then.”

Jowd must be the name of the detective that Cabanela shot, and apparently they were good friends.

“Things have been rather difficult since then, huh?”

“Detective Jowd was such a nice guy… I bet that even though Cabanela shot him for no apparent reason that he wouldn't want this to happen.”

Bailey stays silent.

“What's really even the point of this anymore? What am I doing with my life!”

“Th-This new side of you is kind of… endearing…” Bailey stutters.

The hunchback remains silent.

“Anyway, the thing to do is work at fixing what you can, little by little. Like, for example, your house of cards. It collapsed, you know.”

The slouch groans and Baileys turns back around in his chair.

I should probably return to Alma's place, I don't have any reason to be here any longer.

And I would like to ask her some questions if possible.

I trick the phone and ride the phone line back to Alma's apartment.

When I return, Alma isn't there.

I guess that makes sense, I did tell her to get some rest.

Thankfully, Missile is there.

I follow a path down to where Missile is asleep and enter his core.

“Hey, Missile.” I call out to the little doggie.

“You're back!” Missile exclaims. “Welcome back!”

“Hopefully I wasn't gone for too long.”

“You were! It felt like forever since I've seen you!”

I chuckle at the dramatic little doggie. “Could you go get Alma for me? I need to ask her a few things.”

“Sure thing!” Missile exclaims before running off to retrieve his mistress. It makes me a little jealous that I don't have legs to run around with.

In the distance, I can hear excited barking as Missile jumps around, trying to convince Alma to go to the living room.

After a few minutes, an excited Missile and a tired Alma enter the area, and Missile leads her to the couch.

“What's up with you, boy?” Alma asks the dog.

I decide to answer the question for her, by entering her core.

“Ah!” Alma exclaims. “You're back!”

“Yeah, sorry about Missile. It was the only way I could think of to get you back here.”

“So that's what got you so excited, huh, Missile?”

“Sorry I woke you up Miss Alma, I had too!”

Alma laughs. “All is forgiven.”

“Now we can move onto why I'm back.” I start.

“You checked on him?” Alma asks.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“He didn't look like he was doing well. His cell was covered in papers and he spent a lot of time reading over them while pacing around.” I explain.

Alma deflates. “I expected as much but I was hoping it wouldn't be the case.”

“Could I ask you a few questions? A lot is going on and you're the only person I'm able to ask.”

Alma pauses to think. “There's no harm I suppose. What do you want to know?”

“I'm mostly confused about the relationship between you, Cabanela, and…” I hesitate. “Jowd.”

Alma winces at the name. “You've learned quite a bit since we last spoke, huh?”

“I've just picked up some things from the people around me.”

“Well, um” Alma begins. “Me and Cabanela have been good friends for a long time, and I met Jowd through him because they both joined the industry on the same day and quickly became friends.”

“So you've known Cabanela for a long time, and I'm assuming that Jowd was also a friend of yours.” I say.

“Jowd…” Alma pauses. “Jowd was my husband.”

Oh shoot, I wasn't expecting that.

“O-Oh, I'm sorry.” I stutter a bit pathetically.

“It's alright, it has been five years.”

“Okay,” I should change the conversation. “Can you think of any reason that Cabanela would find Yomiel and Sissel suspicious?”

“...What?”

“When i was checking out his cell every possible surface was covered in papers, when a guard asked Cabanela what they were for he said he was investigating two suspicious individuals.” I say. “When the guard asked who they were he showed him a drawing that was clearly of Yomiel and Sissel.”

“Cabanela is investigating them, how?” Alma asks.

“All he said about that was to “Not underestimate him”” I answer.

“Leave it to Cabanela to be confidently cryptic.” Alma pauses. “But to answer your question, no.” She thinks for a moment. “Well, maybe Sissel.”

“Explain?”

“Ever since that incident five years ago, Cabanela has been claiming that it was like he was being controlled, when he shot Jowd.” Alma begins to explain. “Obviously that's not believable, but he's been confident that's what happened at the time.”

“And what does this have to do with Sissel?” I ask.

“Sissel was nearby, when it happened.”

“Nearby? How close?”

“For some reason she was at the station, and just randomly passed out in the courtyard. Jowd rushed over to her to check if she was alright, and he was directly above her when he… died.” Alma explains.

I'll have to ask Yomiel about that when I get the chance. “Is that the only connection you can think of?”

“Well it's clear that Cabanela… isn't doing well, and that might be the connection he could come up with, but that doesn't really involve Yomiel at all. Other than the fact that they are married.”

“Well thank you for giving the best answers you can. It's pretty clear that I need to find Yomiel and get the answers straight from his mouth.” I say.

“Yes, you said you had lost him. How did that happen?” Alma asks.

“Simple, he just went to a place where I was unable to follow.”

“Do you know where he went? Maybe I can help.”

“He said that he was going to someplace called “The Chicken Kitchen”, but I have no idea what that even is.”

“The Chicken Kitchen? This late?” Alma questions. “Bit odd.”

“He said he was going to meet Sissel there.”

“All you need is a call to be able to go to a new location, right?” Alma asks.

“Yup.”

“Then I'll call the Chicken Kitchen, I owe you one anyway.”

“You can just call?” I say, for some reason that hadn't crossed my mind.

“Yup, then hopefully you'll be able to reunite with Yomiel.”

“That'll be fantastic!”

“Let me call then.” Alma says as I'm pushed out of the ghost world. I'm a little embarrassed that the solution is so simple but I'm not here to complain, as long as I can get to where I need to be I'm happy.

Alma stands up from the couch and walks over to the phone, immediately dialling a number.

I move from my spot over to the phone.

Alma picks up the phone and holds it to her ear.

“Hello? This is The Chicken Kitchen” a strange looking man in chef attire answers on the other side of the phone.

Alma doesn't say anything, but holds the phone for a little while before hanging up.

“Hope that helps.” She says.

It does, a lot. I trick the phone and ride the phone line to my next destination, The Chicken Kitchen.

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