Phantom of the Apartment

Letters

    Jason watched through the window, careful to stay out of sight. Inside, Rebecca had been caught by the wrist and was now making a desperate effort to keep her gun. Thomas was attacking Oswald with the baseball bat, a plan that Jason did not have the utmost confidence in. He was tempted to leap forward and try to help, but Oswald could see the window from his current position. You've got one advantage, he reminded himself, and that's surprise. Don't blow it. He sunk slowly down the wall. He didn't have a weapon. Oswald had the knife, and if Rebecca wasn't careful he'd soon have the gun as well. Thomas brought the baseball bat down on Oswald's head which, to Thomas's credit, did seem to stun him somewhat. The ghost recovered quickly, however, and turned to his attacker. "You're all so difficult!" Oswald growled. "Can you not simply accept your fate? You put up a fight, but in then end you'll all die by my hand." He paused before smiling. "Just like Jason."

     That comment seemed to strike a sour chord with Thomas, who proceded to beat Oswald mercilessly with the bat while shouting something incoherent. Rebecca managed to wrestle back the gun. She pulled the trigger. It clicked. Empty. Oswald appeared to be soundly distracted by the baseball bat in his face, so Jason crept closer to the window. Come on, Jason, jump back in! A shot of pain arced through his wounded arm and ankle, as if reminding him why that was an awful idea. He looked about for weapons. The best he could find was a sharp shard of wood from the old board. He picked it up and looked over the windowsill. On the count of three, he told himself. 

     One. Thomas continued his attack, though Oswald hardly seemed to care. He reached up and caught the bat midair.

     Two. The bat cracked in half. Thomas stared in horror at its splintered remains. Oswald grinned.

     ... Two and a half. Rebecca scrambled to reload. Don't be a coward! He placed his hands on the windowsill, preparing to jump over.

     Three! He jumped through and raced forward, brandishing the wooden spike. Rebecca noticed him first. She cursed, eyes widening as Jason appeared, apparently back from the grave. Thomas nearly dropped the remains of his bat. "Jason!" Oswald whirled. His eyes widened slightly before narrowing.

     "How," he growled, "are you still alive?"

     Jason smiled. "Next time you throw someone out a window, make sure there isn't a fire escape outside." Oswald roared and raced forward. Jason attacked with his makeshift dagger, to surprising success. Well, depending on one's measure of 'success,' that is. It hesitated but left no mark, just as before, though it seemed to cause Oswald some measure of discomfort. Oswald's irritated growl seemed to snap Thomas out of his stupor, because he joined the attack using what was left of his weapon. Oswald vanished, causing both Jason and Thomas to fall through his to the floor. They jumped up (somewhat awkwardly, on Jason's part. That ankle hurt.) and looked around frantically, both knowing now was not a good time for a heartfelt reunion. Suddenly, there was a bang. The two ducked. Nothing happened.

     At least, nothing happened to them.

     Oswald was not so fortunate.

     The moment he had appeared, Rebecca had shot. And, this time, she had found her mark. The bullet lodged itself in his leg. The ghost gave an agonized howl, clutching the wound. It wasn't the lethal shot they had been hoping for, but even landing a shot was an improvement. The strange, pale blood seeped between Oswald's fingers and he snarled. "You'll pay for this." He rose and dissipated.

     Thomas whirled, searching the room. "Where'd he go?"

     The answer came swiftly in the form of a knife pressed against Jason's throat. "Move and he dies," Oswald hissed. "And this time I will be thorough." The two stood still as statues, Rebecca's gun pointed motionlessly at Oswald. The ghost noticed and positioned himself behind Jason.