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A Salon Story — Chapter 28
“It’s been years now. How can we find any proof if the FIA still keeps the case classified?” Spion said, frowning in frustration.
Richard shook his head, delivering his reply with his typical naughty smile: “Without proof, you can’t get a proper score, just like doing math exams.”
“It’s really hard to find any evidence,” Trevor shrugged, looking at the EMF meter and trying to search for something new.
“Actually, there is a way,” Richard grinned. “We can ask him. He died in the forest; he’s a ghost now.”
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” Spion said, anger creeping into his voice.
“I like seeing your face. It’s so funny,” Richard laughed.
“You’re seriously naughty. We don’t want to help you anymore,” Spion declared, turning toward his bed. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“I will keep teasing you! I’ll never stop! Don’t you remember when you worked here, how plates and glasses mysteriously fell on the ground sometimes? I did that!” Richard stuck out his tongue.
“You little ghost…” Spion whirled around and tried to pounce on Richard, but his hands passed right through the boy. He felt a mild electric shock. Richard glided backward, laughing wildly.
“You can’t hurt me! If you move fast, you’ll just pass through me,” Richard boasted.
“Alright, we’d better help him, send him to the underworld quickly,” Trevor said with a smile, clearly enjoying Spion being teased. “Where is he now, and how do we find him?”
“He’s still in the forest near the backyard. Although there’s a road now, and much of the forest has been rebuilt as a park, he can still move around the original forest area. You can use the Spirit Box to call him, but I can call him too.”
“So you know him? Have you asked him how he died?” Spion asked, already searching for his boots.
“He’s not like me. He is a malicious spirit, unstable sometimes. He doesn’t remember many things. We need to calm him down first and talk to him with patience.”
“Well, let’s go. Send this little naughty ghost to the underworld as quickly as possible,” Spion muttered, pulling on his boots.
“Wait for me to put my clothes on.” Trevor quickly donned his murder-bot costume and shoes.
“Being a ghost is really convenient; you don’t need to change clothes anymore. Have you two considered becoming ghosts?” Richard joked.
“No,” they both answered firmly.
They left the room carrying their full ghost hunting equipment. Trevor wore the smart glasses, the EMF meter in his right hand. Spion took the Spirit Box and the compact flashlight.
“The smart glasses screen displays your data,” Trevor said to Richard, “It’s connected to the EMF. You can see your ghost age, EMF level, and everything.” He showed the screen to Richard.
“Cool. A downside of being a ghost is you can’t use a touchscreen,” Richard sighed.
They took the elevator to the first floor. The lobby was quiet and dark; only emergency lights marked the way. The Halloween décor hadn’t been removed yet.
“No one on the night shift?” Trevor was surprised by the emptiness.
“This isn’t a hotel,” Spion answered. “There are usually no guests at night unless there are events.” He paused, hearing a sound. “Something is coming.” He pointed his flashlight toward the door leading to the backyard.
The beam landed on a garbage can-shaped object with a red light glowing on top. “Human detected. Exterminate. All human beings must die,” the thing announced in a distorted electronic voice.
“What is that?” Trevor asked, his voice trembling slightly.
“That… looks like the robot doorman,” Spion muttered, shaky with fear. He took a step back cautiously.
“Coward,” Richard sniffed. He glided swiftly toward the robot. “Hey, Lex.”
The object immediately shifted to a soft male voice. “Hey, Rich. I see you made human friends.”
“Yes, they are helping me find the reason for my death.”
“Great for you.”
Trevor and Spion walked closer. Spion looked at the robot. “It is the robot doorman, but why is it dressed as a killing robot?”
“Halloween thing,” Lex explained in its original, human-friendly voice. “I was supposed to be the doorman for the party, so they programmed me with the killing voice. But Mr. Dressrious thought yelling ‘Exterminate’ at guests wasn’t good for business, so I only work the night shift now.”
“And you knew Rich was a ghost, but you never said anything?” Spion asked.
“Friends keep secrets for each other,” Lex stated.
“I’m kind of worried about robots and ghosts uniting to rebel against humans now,” Spion mumbled.
“We have a mission we need to complete first,” Trevor said, patting Spion’s back. “Go.”
They left Lex and walked to the backyard. The game tents were still standing. Richard led the way to the back gate, not forgetting to ridicule Trevor and Spion for being scared of Lex.
“Younger generations are becoming more fearful. Afraid of a robot? So funny. My dad fought the Dark Reich and the Red Union, and I had my first mission when I was eight—to kill an alien creature.”
“Wow, you’re bragging now. You had a mission to kill an alien creature?” Spion asked with a doubtful tone.
“I’m not lying. I’m fearless; that’s my ability. They tested me before, dressing up as monsters to scare me—it didn’t work. Dad took me camping at a graveyard once; he was scared, but I made friends with the night creatures. So, when I was eight, the army sent me on my first mission to deal with an alien creature in a town in the Northeast.”
“The army gave you a mission? How could you work for the army even as a child?” Trevor found his words unbelievable, too.
“I grew up on a military base in Springfield. You could say I worked for the army with my dad since I was born.”
“How did you deal with the creature?” Spion asked, still casual, not taking the story seriously.
“That creature fed on fear. It could transform into the thing you fear the most and create horrible illusions. But I’m fearless, so it couldn’t hurt me. Instead, I mocked it. I called it a ridiculous joker who only knew how to bully kids and didn’t have the guts to deal with adults.”
Trevor and Spion both chuckled.
“You don’t believe me! I won’t tell you my secrets anymore,” Richard said, genuinely upset. His translucent figure began to dim.
“I believe you! You are special, smart, and brave,” Trevor praised him immediately.
Spion echoed, “Yeah, we’re friends. We trust you.”
Richard was happy again, humming a tune and moving swiftly. “We are here.”
They arrived at the backyard gate—a huge black iron gate with two lights atop the posts, illuminating an empty road outside.
“I’ll call him. You’d better step behind, but don’t worry, he can’t pass the gate and enter the yard,” Richard said calmly.