House Call

The case is closed and Tanvir has recovered. And on a January morning, we follow Tanvir six months later.

Following the events of Episode Four, Tanvir helps Teddy retrieve the bullet. And soon, they'll realize they're not as alone as they think.

The day comes and Cooper is forced to prove his theory. The Promise was easy to make, but now with the drill in his hand and a camera in his face, he's starting to worry.

Tanvir begins to journal his survival and question his future. But luckily, he meets something with a great offer.

   Jeremy was the second oldest of his family. With four other siblings, Jeremy often had to take care of himself. He had to be more resourceful and survive while the others got attention. Whether that was for detentions, hospital visits, surgeries, or bad grades, he had to duck under it all and survive. By 14, he was almost completely independent. And he knew almost everything about everyone within the family. There was James, Kim, Gerard, and Jean. Without saying a word, he knew James’ side business at school, Kim’s boyfriends, and who started Gerard’s fights. All he needed to do was listen to the right people in the cacophony that was his family. Or, he just needed to look in the right places.    In the master bedroom, Jeremy dug through one of the nightstands. Pushing aside ointments and lotion, he looked for anything useful. Anything he could use to attack or defend himself. Albeit, there was a low chance of finding a knife in a nightstand, he also wanted clues. Something to answer the impossibility of his situation. And while there were photos inside, none gave enough detail or meant much. Just a couple together at the beach, both appearing to be in their late 20s. Those were respectfully thrown to the side of the drawer as Jeremy debated the lethality of perfume. And in the top drawer of the second nightstand was a letter opener, which Jeremy gladly shoved into his pocket. That one had even less than the first, with a tin of mints inside along with some glasses care rags.    He left the bed alone and continued to search. He went through the dresser, wardrobe, and closet and not much was found. It was the same as the nightstands, just typical house items. Though, there was one place he didn't check. The very top of the closet, where shoe boxes were stacked high. He couldn’t reach it, being a little over five feet tall. But, desperate times call for desperate measures Jeremy thought as he pulled the ottoman to the closet doorway. Growing up, this happened often. Something important, or dangerous, being hidden up high so none of the kids could reach it. And while the other kids never paid enough attention to even notice the shelf, Jeremy was always well aware. Soaking in the nostalgia he stood on top of the ottoman and peeked. Dark eyes met dust and cobwebs coating every single item up there. He looked around for anything interesting, and as he pushed away boxes he noticed the difference; It was like a cliffside. The dust was so thick it framed where the box was, with a lip of dust along the edges. And, in the middle was a perfect wood shelf underneath. It looked new compared to everything else, despite it just being a part of the house. He admitted to himself that it looked kind of cool.    The boxes very rarely had shoes in them, though there was one exception. That box held a pair of women's black heels that smelled like an antique store. But for the most part, they just held photos and items that once had meaning. Things families would keep within the family to honor their heritage or immigration, though these were poorly kept. The egg holder, for instance, had a slight residue on it that Jeremy had to fight to get off his hand. And stains had sealed parts of its once shiny surface.    Looking towards the back, Jeremy could see a stray box sitting there. And while dust still riddled the sides and top, it was far less used than the other boxes. As if there were very few reasons to open the box and use what was inside. Feeling good about what it might be, Jeremy tensed his stomach and began to reach. He jumped a bit to try and get more reach, but no matter how close he came it never felt like enough. He felt as if the box only fell further and further from his grasp, never promising success. But, before he was going to give up, he lunged forward and up towards the shelf. Leaning at an angle, he nabbed the box and scooped it towards him. And as he fell from the ottoman, the box popped open. Heavy metal thudded against the carpet. He anxiously set himself right and saw lying there, a handgun.    “God, I hope he’s okay.” Tanvir bit his lip as he followed whatever layout the house created. There was no more slamming or muttering; Even Teddy’s steps became a bit lighter. But to replace that laid a thick air of worry. The two were tense as they walked, reluctantly abiding the house’s rules. And while Teddy would have responded with an optimistic hope for Jeremy, he couldn’t help but bite his tongue. Instead, he stayed quiet and yearned for a cigarette. Something possible, yet he feared the movement of retrieving a pack. “Where do you think he went…”    “I don’t know,” Teddy admitted, “the echo isn’t a good sign though.”    “Well, it sounded hollow so maybe we heard it through some pipes? Maybe an air vent?”    “What do you mean?”    “Well, I don’t know. Maybe that means he’s in a room with… pipes?” Tanvir shrugged, his voice cracking at the question. He knew it sounded stupid, he knew it didn’t make sense. But he still hid behind his words and hoped it was enough to convince the two he was fine.    “Yeah…” The ginger agreed. His lip twitched, as if he had more to say. Teddy knew it was best to let Tanvir have this, pretend he won this little game he set up for them. He was just… in a room with some pipes.     They walked through several storage rooms and halls. The halls had bookcases inside the walls, filled to the brim with novels and albums. Though, out of the corner of Tanvir’s eyes he could see the covers and spines writing. Well, what he assumed was supposed to be the writing. The titles and subtitles were smeared, as if someone took a bit of acetone and destroyed the English printed. He almost considered stopping to open one up, just to see if it was the same grey blobs ruining the pages. But, no. Something kept him from stopping, he knew better than to stop and mess with anything in the house. And while he never saw what happened to Jeremy, his subconscious connected touching things with danger.    “Okay, this is impossible.”     “Are you just now getting that impression?” Tanvir tried to joke.    “No, I mean- shut up. The halls and rooms. They’ve led us into a spiral, I was noticing while we walked. It led us in a spiral and we’re still going- this should have ended.”    “Well, it’s still going. Maybe not?”    “I don’t know.” They continued, the hallways getting shorter and side rooms becoming more and more scarce. The two observed books, photos, nightstands with shoddily made clay pots on them. They were silent, now both very aware of the shrinking spiral they were walking into. Obviously this couldn’t have existed, even if it did, the walls would have had to be very thin. Thin enough to allow for so many turns to be crammed in there. It was just so confusing, so, one broke the random silence.    Tanvir asked, “Which one do you think is the victim.” It was said more like a statement than a question, as if he was too afraid to let his guard down and seem curious. Teddy was confused until he pointed to the portraits around them. The specific one he was referring to was a family photo of three. They were on vacation, set directly in the mountains. The husband looked to be in his 40s, destaured brown hair was buzzed short. He looked to be a simple man with nothing on his warm outfit out of place. Though, compared to the other two he looked the least equipped to be traveling on the mountain side. The wife, who appeared a bit older, stood with a large smile. The fur of her hood splayed in every direction, making her appear the largest. She was blonde like her son, but her hair was obviously more cared for. It was shiny under the midday Sun and picked up color from her maroon coat. Then, in the middle stood the son. He was only 15 in the photo, though it was a little hard to tell. His dirty blonde hair was unkempt and a little greasy. Under the hair were glasses, something neither parent had. Green pale eyes stared at the camera, failing to trick it into thinking he was genuinely smiling. Hands sat in his pockets as he tensely stood, he was most likely cold.    “It’s the kid, remember?” Teddy responded, not offended by Tanvir forgetting. He felt uncomfortable making fun of him at a time like this. “Unless that’s a different family, which at this point I wouldn’t be surprised, that’s him.”    “Right.” Tanvir looked ahead, embarrassed by the mistake. “Let’s just keep moving.”     “Yeah, check this out. Door changed again over there.” Teddy pointed across a large media room, one found in a wealthy family’s basement. Across it in the shadowy back part of the room was a pale wood door. The two didn’t remember seeing it when they first came in, but graciously accepted it. It was locked, but it may have been weak enough to break. Teddy hid that idea from Tanvir though.     Jeremy didn’t know how to fire a gun. But, he assumed he’d seen enough movies to know how to use it, so he walked with blind confidence.    He had come to a staircase. It curled to the left and up, with windows checkmarking the side. Jeremy barely hesitated when he ascended the stairs, far too used to the aesthetic changes. Dust danced and glowed in the light, kept within the window sills frames. The squeak of wood captioned every single movement and shift of weight Jeremy made. The staircase finished before it went in a complete circle, finishing with a wooden attic door. Locks of all kinds decorated the door, though they were all unlocked. Jeremy looked up, catching a sign plastered above the door. “Stairway to Heaven,” it read, in pale yellow writing. He silently acknowledged and accepted it. It’s just another weird aesthetic. Then opened the door.    Inside was a normal, unfurnished attic. Though unnaturally empty for an attic so average, he tolerated it. Jeremy entered and began to look for a door- really just anything that would let him progress. It was a process he knew and committed to, something the house taught him. The smell of the air was antique, borderline musky. It was noticeable but didn’t hinder his breathing, so Jeremy stuck through it when searching. And eventually, he found something. Hidden within a wall was a door. Dust hid any crease the ends would have made, and there was no knob to stick out. Instead, Jeremy would have to find a way to open it.    “Huh…” he muttered to himself as he backed away, “why am I surprised.”    Looking around there weren’t any keys or any other door like that. Nor were there any levers hidden under the floorboards. Jeremy shook his head, unsure of what to do. “Maybe it’s just patchwork and you’re losing it. Then again, why the creases- those clearly go to something!”     He stood in front of it and stared. Besides using the gun there was one idea he had for getting in. Though, he wasn’t sure if it would be enough to work. Regardless, he shrugged and prepared himself. “Screw it, why not. Got nothing else but Teddy’s method.”     Jeremy threw himself against the door and bounced off. And unlike Teddy’s painful experience, Jeremy got the door to open. It had bounced open, the pressure of Jeremy’s weight releasing the magnets keeping it closed. “Magnets. Course.” He laughed, feeling slightly dumb.    Through the door was a hallway, wooden like the staircase. Even had the same window stuck in the middle, Illuminating floating dust. But across from him was a dingy wooden door. The knob being jiggled. Jeremy froze, horrified by the idea of there being something dangerously close to him in the house. He took a step back, preparing himself to run in case it got through. “Oh- wait the gun-!“ he winced. Jeremy armed himself, cocking the gun at the door.    His body was stiff and tense, eyes focused on the door. And as he heard the banging and weak thuds echo down the hall, he mentally prepared himself to fight or run. Finally, their last bang was made and the door cracked. Splintering wood and a slight wheeze of the door crumbing came from the show as the perpetrator came through. And without fail, Jeremy fired.     Teddy screamed, covering his shoulder. He staggered and leaned against the wall behind him. Jeremy gasped and screamed, “Ted!”    Jeremy ran towards him and down the hallway. But, before he could cross the frame of the window, it was over. From the floorboards, an oil spill esc sludge came and lunged for the man. In an Instant, the sludge snatched Jeremy with a bone chilling snap.    “Jeremy!” Tanvir screamed, a blind fear striking him. He called out to him again, unsure of what else to do. He was completely overwhelmed by what had just happened. Meanwhile, against the wall was Teddy. Frozen, he just stood with buckled knees holding his shoulder. His face was slack with a glassy, distant stare. Tanvir hesitated to run over, he was terrified of the same happening to him. “Oh my god- oh my god- Teddy- I-do you think?”    He squeaked out, “I don’t know.” More confident in his uncertainty, he repeated. “I don’t know.”

   A dehumidifier rumbled in the distance, its few buttons glowing in the near pitch-blackness of the room. Towards the corner was a rapid and consistent clacking of keyboard keys. Pulled up on a browser was music from an obscure rhythm game, allowed to auto-play whatever was in the playlist. The man behind the keyboard subconsciously followed the beat, clicking his tongue to the music.    “The Spirit world is not something branded to so-called ghost hunters and witches. No, it is something accessible to all of us. It is a real concept that our society once had access to. Where deals could be made, angels could be loved, and creatures could roam our world. Why do you think so many recorded sightings of demons and ghosts exist? Especially back in ancient times? It’s the spirit world being open and free!”   Cooper paused for a moment to push his glasses up, then continued with the same speed. At 27 Cooper prided himself on his knowledge of the Internet and conspiracy theories. In his head, he was a truthseeker, a genius even. And that all of his time had to go to honing in his theory and his research. Even at the risk of losing touch with high school friends and befriending coworkers.    “We were all in touch with this second world. But nowadays you have to find tricks and backdoors to it. Which is bull! Why should we have to do all this work for something we are entitled to? Our basic rights? And this leads me to what is keeping us from it. What blocked us from it!!”    Cooper Pataki was his real name. Patchy stubble clung to his face, overgrown yet barely there. He didn’t bother to shave, no point. It always stays this long and only grows back if he cuts it, so why bother? The same went for his sandy brown hair. Say for some stray hairs and a cowlick, his greasy hair curled around his neck just above his shoulders. And instead of cutting the hair to permanently get it out of his face, he would just blow it away.    “When governments grew, so did a sense of power. And so, a growing divide between those in power and civilians grew. And what’s a good way of keeping the people below in check? Keeping them listening to you? Well, by being the only power in this world. Yes, you read this correctly I am proposing that a higher government is locking us away from this world!”    A smirk of pride grew on his face, excitement fueled his rapid typing. Months he had spent on this theory and now he figured was the time to announce it. To gather help, gather more people who would listen to him and see the truth. It all made perfect sense in his mind, and his blog post was going to unite them all.    “They have found a way to gatekeep the spirit world from us. And while the opening is inaccessible to us (that is unless we find a way into the arctic). There are other ways. Creating our own portals, transcending into another reality through meditation and spells, and maybe even some drug combination we haven’t found yet! Though, the last is just wishful thinking. But there’s one that I think can help us. One proven throughout mankind to work and be survivable.    “Trepanation is the drilling or scraping of a hole into the human skull. In ancient times this was used as a medical treatment, though, there is a secondary use for it. You see, trepanning was also used for ridding evil spirits. This would imply an opening is created, a way for people to see all spirits! And this is our way! This is the answer. Though, it is now a taboo in our society- something closer to a torture method- I propose we should bring it back to its primitive method. Well- maybe not primitive.” He swiveled his seat around, biting his thin bottom lip. Getting up, his vision left him, and a wave of vertigo hit. He stumbled, knocking over a near-empty can of cola to the ground. Cooper steadied himself like always then continued. “Primitive… well rocks seem a bit dangerous I suppose. Maybe something else?” He looked to an old toolbox, coated in a thick layer of dust. A relic from his father, something his dad took great care of before he died. Ignoring the broken cobwebs tickling his hands, he inspected the hammer. “It’d get the job done. Maybe a bit too well, the person's skull might break too much… screw it, I'll figure out something easier.”    He dropped the hammer and wiped his hand on his jacket. He trailed back to his chair, sat down, and deleted his previous sentence. “With the help of medical tools, or maybe even a hammer if you feel equipped, you can create a hole in the head. A way of accessing a brand new world, something we thought was fiction. This could be revolutionary and I want to spread this theory, I want to prove it.    “Humankind can benefit from this connection. We as a society could be healed with methods never used before, everyday life could be improved if these worlds come together and collaborate. A total bond of worlds. So. Will you join me?”    A proud smirk was plastered to his face as he clicked the publish button. Reclining back, he exclaimed, “great job as always, Coop. This calls for a celebratory soda.”    Minutes passed as Cooper rummaged through the fridge for another can of King Cola. Though, eventually the creaking of steps started. Coming down the dingy stairs he hummed to himself one of the rhythm game songs. The night continued like this, with Cooper scrolling through message boards, sipping on his drink, and typing away. His mood was brighter than usual, the excitement of updating his blog still with him. And that was only egged on by some sparse notifications of people replying or liking the post. Each time that happened, he’d jump to the post and look; eyes wide and with a rare light seen from him. Though, this began to change after the post gained traction.    And while Cooper wanted the post to gain attention, this wasn’t what he hoped for. Expected, but not hoped for. The first comment came, then the second, then the third, and so on. All laughing at the idea. They taunted him, calling him sick and an incel. Cooper, in retaliation, responded and defended his idea.   “Sick.” He laughed, “these people wouldn’t know sick if they were in a hospital bed.” His brow furrowed as he typed a follow up.    “Every great has been bashed for theories that turned out to be true. They killed Galileo for his theory and look at astronomy now! Van Gogh was called Crazy now his paintings are in the Louvre! You people are just not opening your minds to my idea. I’m telling you, this is the way. If anything this isn’t that crazy! Lunatics with crazier ideas have been applauded here! but it seems you’d rather believe reptilians exist before spirits.” He scoffed, “I could prove this, you cannot prove God was a UFO!”    With an aggressive click it was published. And so he waited.    Almost immediately, it got a response. Some liked it, though more were egging him on with more insults and more delusions. For two hours Cooper fought back these comments with retorts and edits. Every few minutes he’d have to punch his glasses back up his nose, all to avoid losing precious seconds that could go into typing. Then, by the two and a half hour mark, a message popped up.    “If you’re so passionate, why not do it yourself.”    Cooper paused, watching people like the comment. “Do it myself?” Admittedly, he hadn’t considered trepanizing himself. It’d make a lot of sense, to be fair, but he hadn't realized it was an option. After a couple minutes, he responded. Then, he made a third post.    “After much thought and some second opinions, I decided I will prove this. I will prove my theory by trepanizing myself. And with photos, you will all see that I’m not the sick one.” With a calculated, final click it was decided. Cooper would conduct a surgery on himself.    The playlist ended, leaving him in near silence. The same dehumidifier acted as white noise as Cooper fully processed the decision. “Where the hell am I gonna get that kind of equipment?”    He stood up and paced. “The dark web I suppose… Maybe Amazon? There was that one guy who wanted to be a doctor in high school… I think he hates me though.”    Cooper didn’t have many options, and with a hammer and rock already ruled out he racked his brain for ideas. That’s when a silver glint caught his eye. Next to his desk was a shelving unit. One filled with manga, books, and anime figures. And presented on one of the shelves was a katana. He picked it up and looked at his reflection. “As cool as it’d be… a katana is way too complicated. Then again how close to a scalpel is a katana?” He shrugged, though ended up putting it down. He looked for ideas as he tidied the shelves, straightening volumes and blowing dust off the figures. And as he cleaned off one of his particular favorite figures, the idea struck.    She was a generic anime girl dressed in a doctor's attire. Posed maniacally she stared straight ahead with an evil but marketable grin. She held a drill to her head in one hand and pliers in the other. Cooper’s eyebrows raised as he grabbed the figure. Fixated on the drill his mind began to wander, he began to wonder if his dad’s drill worked

House Call is a horror fiction podcast developed and produced by Sprite G. The podcast covers a crime scene cleanup team as they try to escape a house with seemingly no end. Listen in to see just how successful they are, and the true mystery behind the deceased homeowner.

Episode Two - Labriynth    Echoing throughout the house were creaking doors and the shake of them slamming shut. Teddy led the charge, refusing to admit what was happening. If he just kept pushing forward they’d find an old room- or better yet- an exit. But for now, they were trying to push through another storage room. “Stupid, this is all stupid.”    Tanvir and Jeremy never responded to him. Jeremy wanted to reach out and assure him it’s fine, but he couldn’t help but bite his own tongue when he tried. So, he just observed whatever new room they came into. Occasionally he’d touch something or bring something with him until he’d get bored. Whenever that happened he'd just leave it in that room, letting the cycle repeat. Tanvir, meanwhile, just walked and followed. As much as he would have loved to hide his fear, his shoulders couldn’t help but wilt towards his chest as he picked at the skin of his fingers.     They stood in a study. The kind you’d find in a wealthy home, complete with a real deer head on the wall. All three avoided eye contact with the head but silently acknowledged it being there, and it’s eery dead stare. Between two doors Teddy went to the smaller one by the fancy, redwood desk. Attempting his same tactic of turning and throwing open the door, it failed on him. The lock jimmied but held under his death grip. His eyebrows jumped, a light dashing through his clover eyes. “A-Ha!”    He continued to fight with the doorknob, the clicking of metal fidgeting under his grasp. The longer he struggled the more confident he became, his shoulders arching to give him more force. Tanvir, after almost a minute of Teddy grunting and trying to pry open the door, spoke. “Ted? Ted, I think it’s locked.”    “You think I don’t know that?!” He snapped back, “I can get it open though!”    “The whole point is that it can’t be opened, I don’t think you can do that.”    “Oh, and like you’re doing anything! Just shut up, let me figure this out.”    “I’m just saying! This isn’t gonna work.”    “You know what? Screw it.” Teddy stepped away. Tanvir patted him on the shoulder, “yeah come on there’s another door. I doubt a locked door is gonna get us out.”    Just then, Teddy slammed his boot against the door, right next to the lock. The door busted open with a satisfying crack and wheeze. Jeremy and Tanvir jumped back while Teddy cheered, “YES! Guess my dad taught me something!” Having his anger rewarded, Teddy looked into the room and smiled. “I told you! It’s the old living room! From the front of the house!”    “Wait, really?!” Jeremy pushed past Tanvir, who was also clambering to see. And just as Teddy said, there it was. The same old furniture, radios, and most importantly doorways. They rushed through to these doorways to find the exit. It should have led to the foyer with the dusty shoes. Should have. The doorway led down another hallway. One with little light and grime and nothing close to the stacks of boxes and old wallpaper they remember. Their faces dropped. Before the others could speak, Teddy groaned with a pained aggression. He turned back into the living room, refusing to amuse whatever force was playing with them. He looked around back and forth before it clicked. There were windows. With light.    “The truck is still there.” He commented, surprised by what he said. “It’s still normal out there.”    “I don’t get it.” Jeremy shook his head, “none of this makes sense.”    “No, but I know what to do.”    “Teddy, be careful.” Tanvir backed up, starting to get an idea of what his friend’s problem solving tactics were. Teddy backed up just like before, now against the edge of the couch. He stiffened his muscles, tucked his head, and lunged towards the window. Shoulder first he planned to burst through the window and onto the decrepit porch. Tanvir tensed his ears for a loud crash of broken glass but that never came. Instead, there was just a loud thud and yelp. Teddy staggered back and all three saw no damage. Tanvir muttered questions to himself before Teddy tried again, smacking against the glass and falling back. “God- Ted! Quit it!”    He reached for Teddy and tried to pull him back. But like trying to restrain a bull he just continued, using his shoulder, elbow, and boot to do any sort of damage. And every time the glass just stayed perfect, albeit a bit more smudged. “Ted!”    “WHAT?!” He yelled. A red mark was growing on his head and he swayed ever so slightly.     “Are you insane?!” Tanvir responded, almost offended by his anger. “You’re gonna bust your head open?! You’re literally throwing yourself at a window, it's obviously not gonna break!”    “Well, It’s our only shot!”    Jeremy had turned away and stared down the hallway. It looked just like the one they first saw, but somehow off. The pictures were gone and instead boxes littered the walls. They were old and struggling to hold itselves up. Though towards the bottom of one of them was a stain Jeremy hadn’t seen before. One that was black and slick, at least he guessed, since it was a bit too dark to see properly. After a moment or two, Jeremy began to descend down the hallway to get a better look.    “I’d rather we find another way than you cracking your head open! Who knows if we can even get a first aid kit if you get hurt!”    Teddy didn’t answer, his shoulders tensed. Tanvir’s eyebrows stayed pressed against his brow. He knew he was right. But that only justified his next idea.     The explosion of wood and splinters shot in every direction. Tanvir shielded himself and Teddy flinched. There was a moment of silence between the two before Tanvir threw his hands up towards Teddy. “What the hell?!”    “I thought it would work! It’s better than my head!” He simply responded, almost surprised he wasn’t cheering him on.    “At least tell me you oaf! I could have gotten something in my eye!”    “God you are just never happy! You’re a baby that’s what it is!”    Tanvir recoiled his head, his dark eyes warning Teddy to step down before he said something worse. “I’m a baby? You’ve been slamming doors and muttering to yourself for the last twenty minutes! You’re throwing yourself against windows and yelling at us when it doesn’t work! Throwing a tantrum isn’t gonna help us!”    “Well I don’t see you coming up with any plans! This is what you do, Tanvir! You sit there while I actually do things, and then NAG me when I get - justifiably- angry!”    “Excuse me?!” Tanvir shouted, puffing his chest out and getting closer to Teddy’s face.     Jeremy was in the hallway now, occasionally jumping at their shouting and profanity filled insults. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Before the box he crouched down and looked at it. It was like a grease stain or oil spill, the grease spreading across the cardboard like the bottom of an old pizza box. And towards the epicenter of the stain was a black pooling of slime leaking onto the rug. The distant light from the living room reflected off the goo, revealing a mirror like effect. Jeremy could see a warped and frayed version of him within the slime. With a subconscious smirk he tilted his head from side to side to see the mirror warp and change.    The game was interrupted by a droplet hitting Jeremy’s face. He jumped back, feeling the cold slime slowly run down the side of his nose bridge. Jeremy looked up, finding the same staining on the ceiling above him. It seemed new, with no grease around the black infection. Keeping eye contact with the ceiling, he brought his fingers to his face and wiped it away. It definitely wasn’t water like he thought, the mucus far too viscous to be any sort of rust or water damage. Anything mixture Jeremy’s mind thought of wouldn’t have explained the color or thickness. Between his fingers he watched the slime’s shine travel throughout its contents.    “It feels like I’m the only one carrying this team! Jeremy never knows what he’s doing and you’re behaving like a child! You just LOVE to brute force your way through anything and everything. And I’m sick of it! I'm sick of you thinking you’re the leader when I’m the only one actually thinking!” Tanvir ranted, his finger nearly touching Teddy’s chest. Daggers were shared between the two, locked in a fiery stare.    “HA!” Teddy cackled, “you’re carrying the team? Wow! Okay! How about you do the paperwork, how about you deal with the incompetent police force, how about you deal with this job the way that I do. I’m the one even making this happen. You just mop up some scum’s blood.”     “Oh I’m so proud of you doing your job! I could never do what was asked of you! I could NEVER do the bare minimum! Listen, you aren’t doing anything new. You aren’t some savior for doing your job. You’re just whining about the higher ups while we suck it up.”     “As if you don’t vent from time to time!” Teddy scoffed, tossing his hand limply at Tanvir. He rolled his eyes, breaking their glare. The shorter man contemplated slapping him clean across the face, anything to shut him up.     “Every day. Every day when we work you have some new bull to bring up and rant about! All you know how to do is whine and whine and whine! It’s infuriating! Makes me feel like that’s all you use me for! As if that’s all I am!” He shouted, his face burning. “I’m done hearing this! I’m done! We can talk about this when we leave. Come on, Jeremy.”    He turned, expecting Jeremy to be standing there as always. But instead, it was just empty space. Tanvir looked all around him and down the hallway, but didn’t see him. “Jeremy?”    “Where is he?” Teddy asked.    “I don’t know.” He came towards the hallway and looked in, the dark blurring distant boxes together. Tanvir raised his voice, “Jeremy?”    “Did he go back into the other room? It’s not like him to leave without us, especially at a time like this.”    “No I… I don’t think so? Ted, look.” He stepped into the dark hallway, a sense of deja vu tingling up his spine. Teddy reluctantly followed, boots forcing a muffled cream from the old carpet. Tanvir led him to a large box, and upon closer inspection, revealed a mess of slime.   A  Black substance was splattered across the floor and up the walls, the thick substance stretched thin as it was thrown against its surroundings. Teddy swore under his breath, unsure of what to make of it. “Looks like vomit.”    “What kind of vomit is black like that?”    “Well it can’t be tar, that just doesn’t make sense.” Teddy responded, pointing at it.     “But black vomit does?” Tanvir cut himself off, “look- Teddy look at that wall.”    There revealed a handprint, smearing the mucus in a panicked reach for safety. Teddy knelt down to it, “god…”     “You think it’s his?” Tanvir blankly asked, unsure of how to emote.     “Has to be. Looks too new.”     “How though…”    Deep within the house, a shrill scream echoed through the walls. Tanvir and Teddy froze, blood running ice cold. Teddy stood to his feet, looking dead at Tanvir. No words needed to be shared, they knew who it was.

The pavement and stray rocks crackled underneath the tires of the van pulling in. On any other day, children would be playing outdoors, there’d be joggers going by, people would be moving their lawns, anything. Anything for a perfect summer afternoon like this. But instead, the only thing that could be heard was the base of the radio emanating from the van. Though, it was short-lived as the engine cut, pop music being replaced by the whirring of the engine cooling down. Ever since the rumors spread, neighbors had been avoiding the dingy house. There were hopeful souls, some who believed he had left or been busy. But most accepted readily that he was most likely gone. For days it was just simple whispers, but today there was confirmation. On the side of the van, in blue text, read, “New Tomorrow Cleaners.”    “Christ,” Teddy said, throwing open the door. “What a pig sty.” The house itself was a two-level White House with an attic to crown the once beautiful home. The walls of the house were stained with grout and marked by age, partially caused by the leaking storm drains. Creeping up the walls were the overgrown bushes that once complimented the porch of the house. Though, it may have been good the porch was covered, as the wood of the porch was littered with dirt and cobwebs.    “The other team is gonna hate this.” Tanvir shook his head with a slight smirk. He had stepped out from the other side, allowing for the third member to follow.    “Another squatter case?” Jeremy asked, shutting the door.    “You don’t know?”    “Course not! No one ever tells me.” Teddy flicked his lighter to life, touching it to the end of a cigarette balanced between his teeth. He answered, “pretty simple. Dude hadn’t been seen for weeks, car hadn’t moved, mailbox was overflowing, nothing. Neighbor had called for a welfare check and they found him dead in the basement, heart attack supposedly.”    Jeremy blinked, “is it bad?” To which Teddy chuckled,    “Bad? Jerm, you know the answer. Two weeks! We lucked out this time but there’s still a ton of blood and bile. The humidifier gave out too so we’re gonna have a real picnic down there.”    “Ugh…” Tanvir cringed, “I’ll get the masks then.”    “Please do. I’ll show you what the scene looks like then we can get our equipment.” Teddy took a long drag of his cigarette and then dropped it to the pavement. Then, ground it in with his steel-toed boot.    Tanvir retrieved the jumpsuits from the back of the van. They threw them on over their work shirts with the crinkle of a vinyl bag. While Jeremey and Tanvir zipped them up, Teddy had simply put it over his pants and tied the sleeves around his waist. It was a common thing he did and likely not as he was allowed to do, though the others never cared enough to tell him otherwise. The reality was that this wasn’t anything new, they’re seen far worse. Popped cadavers, melting, maggots, all of it. At most all, they’d have to do was clean up the blood, disinfect, and dispose of whatever down there, easy job by all standards. Yet, on this hot day, the three still dreaded the idea of being down there in the humid basement, thick with the stench of fermented death. Even with the body gone, the new circulation of air had only relieved a bit of the pressure down there. Teddy remembered silently chuckling about how the police must have reacted upon opening the door. The porch boards creaked and moaned under each member's weight. “Careful Ted, you sure you won't fall through these?” Tanvir teased. Teddy just laughed, if it were a stranger he’d punch their lights in. But ever since meeting Tanvir, the two had grown to love making fun of each other. Playful jabs were their specialty and made easy by their cartoony appearances next to each other. Tanvir, long and skinny, and Teddy built like a Brickhouse. Meanwhile, Jeremy was the one in the middle to watch it all. The house opened to a foyer. Within it was a collection of shoes from men, women, and children- all with a layer of dust on them. Same for the key rack, left in a barebones state and with letters haphazardly stuck into the top “for later.” Ahead was the entrance to three rooms and a staircase upstairs. The one on the left led to a living room full of boxes and furniture from the 1950s. The one on the left, surrounded by boxes, went into a room that could only be presumed as a media room. “Dear Lord,” Tanvir muttered, shaking his head. “Just follow me,” Teddy said, unphased. The three continued, where they could all get a better look. Jeremy looked into the living room and saw the same yellow furniture, presented towards a table with several radios stacked on top of it. On the bottom was a radio from the 30s and the top one from as late as 2009. There were dressers full of fine china and figurines of fairies. At the right angle, you’d be able to see the place where the lights would go, stuck with burnt-out lightbulbs in them. “How old was the victim, Teddy?” Jeremy looked up to the ginger. “27 I think? Late 20s, definitely.” “No way, all of this is from like the 50s.” “Actually, I think so. Jerm, look here.” Tanvir pointed Jeremy to the media room. There was a new decade. A box tv sat directly across from them, balanced on top of an antique stand. Underneath was stuffed with a DVD player, VHS player, cable box, and gaming console. Besides the stand and wrapping around the walls were shelves and shelves of magazines, DVDs, and tapes. There was a small container dedicated to games, though it was easily dwarfed by everything else surrounding it. There were a few leather chairs in there, some covered in tape to make them look more presentable than they actually were.    “Hoarders situation, simple. Come on, I wanna get this over with.” Teddy asserted. As much as he would have loved to sit around and judge, he knew they had much worse things to get to first. They began to follow him down the hallway and into the kitchen. “We’ve seen worse anyways.”    “Yeah, I know. I just haven’t seen things so… sectioned off?” Tanvir said, shrugging his shoulders.    “Really? Thought this would have made you feel better.”    Tanvir scrunched his nose, “well- no. I don’t know, It just feels like I’m looking at different eras crammed into one room. It’s kinda jarring?”    “Well don’t worry, I’ll be here to hold your hand if we find the 70s.” Teddy chuckled, echoed by Jeremy’s snicker behind the two. Tanvir didn’t laugh or respond, instead, he just turned away and took in the disaster of a kitchen. Grime coated the counters and ran down the sides of cabinet doors. Though, on an extension was a cleaner part where books were stacked. The cookbooks didn’t register as he went right to the sci-fi and paranormal pinned under an old can of soda. “Cryptozoology… I don’t even know what that is. Demons and spirits…” Tanvir began muttering to himself, while Jeremy came up behind him. “Woah, sick!” “Yeah, that's a way of describing it…” Tanvir flipped through the pages, looking at the scratchy illustrations of demons and supernatural beings. “Freaky.”    “Vir! Jerm! Come on! I found the door to the basement.” Teddy called from down the hall. Tanvir gladly put the book down and hurried after him, Jeremy following close after. The two joined Teddy in staring down the rugged staircase. As they descended the staircase it curved around a wall, soon revealing the second door at the bottom. Teddy looked confused, not remembering it being there the last time he visited. But, he quickly shook it off, and opened the door.    “Where’s the blood? This doesn’t sound like what you told us.” Jeremy asked.    “I… it should be here.” Teddy simply replied. The room was carpeted just like the staircase. There was an old armchair across them and a clean laundry room to the far corner, with a window letting in natural light. On top of it all, there were no stains, no smells of death, nothing that would tell you a man died in there. Just dust and items indicative of a poor man’s man cave. Teddy shook his head and went deeper into the room. “This looks nothing like what I saw… what the hell.”    Looking to his left, holding a dart board, was a staircase leading… up. Tanvir tried to reason, “maybe there’s two ways downstairs?”    “You saw the house, it’s way too small to have two staircases. Even then, what house has two staircases to one room?”    “Hey, no need to yell at me I’m just guessing! Because clearly this is a dead end.”    “Do we go up it?” Jeremy butt in.    “No, no. Maybe I just opened the wrong door.” Teddy shook his head and ascended the original stairs back up. Tanvir followed without second thought. Jeremy reluctantly tailed, refusing to be the only one down there. Teddy was already at the top by then and failed to notice the door being closed again. He threw it open, though soon lost that confidence when he processed his surroundings.    Tanvir saw him recoil back, “Ted? Teddy?” He saw past him into the room, letting his eyebrows jump. Inside was a long corridor with a total of four doors. Along the sides were family photos and children's drawings.    “Teddy?”