Occulturation #16 Welcome to Ghostlight Grove

Ghost-Incorporeal-Restcha (4th day, 4th week, 3rd month)

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“Welcome to Ghostlight Grove!” Isuertal says excitedly. She bows dramatically, with her hand outstretched to highlight the wooden cabin with the large parking lot around it. The cabin is where they pay for their visit and register as campers. Chylclanth and Isuertal had raced each other from the compound to see who could get to the campground first. Isuertal took a motorbike and Chylclanth took his ATV. As for Culpata and Salsan, they took the bus. No one is quite sure how Greesha got to the camp, but even though they all left at the same time, Greesha was waiting for them when they arrived. They don’t see any A.S.S.F. vehicles in the parking lot except Isuertal’s motorbike and Chylclanth’s ATV.

Isuertal has a huge hiking backpack that is overloaded with gear. Even with bedrolls and blankets strapped to the outside, it’s still quite large. She also takes out two more backpacks that she had in the saddlebags on her motorbike. She is carrying way too much for one person, but she won’t let anyone else help because she takes it as a sign of pride… even though she is clearly struggling with three overloaded bags. “Wait, Isuertal, did you ride here with that on your back?” Chylclanth asks.

Isuertal grins. “Yes, I bet I would have beat you if I wasn’t so weighed down.”

Chylclanth grimaces. “If I had more things to bring, I still would win.” Chylclanth is wearing a small backpack with only a few things: clothes, snacks, water. He has had experience camping before and knows that since Isuertal has the sleeping situation covered, he doesn’t really need much.

Salsan rolls her eyes. Those two, Chylclanth and Isuertal, are always competing against each other, trying to prove that they’re better. Salsan knows that neither of them would get far without the intel that she provides. “That’s a lot of bags, Isuertal.” Salsan says, “But this place has cabins, wouldn’t it be better to sleep in one of those?”

“No way!” Isuertal says, “It’s not camping unless you’re out under the stars.”

“And by under the stars, you mean under the tent.” Chylclanth says.

“Hey, I don’t need a tent.” Isuertal says, “I’ll take my bedroll and blanket and sleep outside.”

Chlyclanth grits his teeth. “Oh yeah?” He asks, “Well, I was planning on sleeping outside too. I’ll just find a patch of grass far away, so I don’t have to hear you snore.”

“Well, I was thinking that bedrolls are overrated anyway.” Isuertal says, “Forget the gear, I’ll sleep on the cold dirt with nothing but my clothes and a jacket to keep me warm.”

Chylclanth looks conflicted. He hates to be outdone, but at the same time, he really doesn’t want to sleep without a bedroll and blanket. Finally, he gives in, “No! I’ll sleep outside. And after a few minutes, you’ll sneak back inside the tent and come out in the morning, pretending like you’ve been outside all along.”

Isuertal smirks. “I guess we’ll have to see about that.” Salsan walks past them and towards the camping center, backpack bouncing against her back. She knows that Isuertal said that she would prepare everything, but Salsan knows that Isuertal isn’t exactly the most responsible person. So she brought her own blanket, and bedroll, along with clothes (both a pair of women’s clothes and men’s clothes), snacks, water and a small cooler with a jug of milk inside.

Culpata is frowning. He seems a bit concerned. “Salsan, Chylclanth? Why have you brought backpacks?” He asks, “Isuertal said she would take care of everything. She would provide all the camping gear: sleeping rolls, blankets, everything.” Salsan, Chylclanth, and Isuertal turn to face Culpata. He isn’t wearing a backpack. He isn’t holding any bags. The only things he has with him are the clothes he is wearing. And those clothes are definitely not appropriate for camping.

“Culpata, is that a tuxedo?” Isuertal asks. Isuertal gets the feeling that Culpata doesn’t understand what she meant by “Slumber Party.” Culpata can tell that he has made a mistake. That… or everyone is pulling a prank on him. He looks around. This is a forest. There are log cabins. He doesn’t fit in here with his formal clothes. He now wishes he had listened to Salsan earlier when she had told him to change. He was too prideful to take advice from someone so young, and now he is facing even greater humiliation.

Chylclanth frowns. “You brought other clothes with you, right?” He asks. Culpata’s face goes red.

Isuertal laughs. “Haha! Don’t worry, I have some clothes you can borrow.” Isuertal says mockingly, “I’ve got a pink skirt that will fit you perfectly.” Culpata turns away from them.

Salsan rolls her eyes at Isuertal’s teasing and takes pity on the old man. “It’s okay, Culpata.” Salsan says, “When I saw what you were wearing, I bought a pair of men’s clothes. You can change in the bathrooms at the visitor’s center.”

Culpata walks over to Salsan as she sets down her backpack and takes out a bag of men’s clothes, still bearing their tags from the store. Culpata accepts the clothes, and quietly thanks her before jogging off to the visitor’s center so he can change in the bathroom.

Isuertal laughs the whole time at Culpata’s embarrassment. Chylclanth and Salsan don’t find it quite so humorous and instead find the awkward situation uncomfortable. Greesha says nothing. The captains can’t discern how she feels about this since her face is hidden behind her mask. Once Culpata is out of sight inside of the visitor’s center, Isuertal turns to face the rest of the group to find Chylclanth and Salsan glaring at her.

“What?” Isuertal asks,” Why are you looking at me like that?”

Salsan sighs. “You shouldn’t tease Culpata like that.” She says.

Chylclanth groans. “Isuertal, you’re so immature.” He says, “He wasn’t dressed appropriately for camping, but you don’t need to make him feel bad about it.”

Isuertal frowns, feeling slightly betrayed. So she turns to face Greesha and can’t keep herself from breaking into a giggling fit when she sees Greesha’s face. “Haha! Captain, you can’t–haha–you can’t wear a–haha–a gas mask here.” Isuertal says between giggling laughter, “Haha! You’re gonna–haha–scare everybody. Haha!” Isuertal keels over in laughter and can’t continue talking because of her incessant giggling.

Salsan rolls her eyes but turns to Greesha as well. “She’s right, Captain.” Salsan says, “When you wear that gas mask, it makes it look like you're here on A.S.S.F. business. People will think there are Screamers here if you don’t take off your gas mask.”

For a moment, Greesha doesn’t respond. Then, she gives out a long muffled sigh and looks downwards. With visible reluctance, she slowly lifts her grappling claw arm to her head and unstraps the gas mask. Salsan isn’t sure how she can articulate that combat prosthetic so delicately and with such precision as to remove her gas mask. But that brings another thing to Salsan’s mind. “Greesha, we should probably hide your, um, prosthetics.” Salsan says hesitantly. Even without the mask, Greesha is still intimidating with a grappling claw in a cannon arm instead of a left arm and with a cannon that launches tasers for a right arm. Perhaps she could wear long sleeves? As for her actual outfit, Greesha showed up in her casual clothes: that is to say she showed up in combat gear. She has an anti-knife vest to help protect against the bites and slashes of Screamers. Her clothes are made to camouflage with the gray background of the city. Beyond her combat vest, she also has padded pants to help against any scrapes and scratches. Without the gas mask, she might not look too bad, but her outfit certainly suggests that she is some sort of law enforcement or special task team.

Salsan grimaces. “Greesha, your clothes…” Greessha cocks an eyebrow and looks down at her combat gear. She looks back up at Salsan, frowning in question.

Isuertal is gasping, now almost recovered from her giggling fit. But as she gets up and hears Salsan mention Greesha’s clothes, she bursts out laughing again. “Unholy Exquus! Haha! I hadn’t even noticed. Haha!” Isuertal laughs, “I’m so used to seeing you wearing that, I hadn’t even realized how out of place it is here.”

Chylclanth steps forward and says, “Greesha, wearing combat armor in public is going to scare people.” Greesha stomps her foot, though she doesn’t look angry. “Let them be scared.” Greesha’s deep voice crawls out, clear and sharp. A deep contrast to the voice usually muffled by her gas mask. “I can only give up so much. I won’t let myself be vulnerable, no matter where I am.”

Salsan kneels to the ground, setting her backpack to the floor again. She takes out a big baggy hooded jacket she had planned to wear while in her sleeping bag for extra warmth. “Will you at least put this on?” Salsan asks. She cringes when she realizes how casual and demanding she is being to her superior officer and stiffens. She salutes and says, “I mean, um… Captain, if you, uh… well, um. I recommend donning this jacket to conceal your presence.”

Salsan holds out the jackets, and after a few seconds and worrisome silence, Greesha accepts the jacket with her left arm, the one with the grappling claw. “This is acceptable.” Greesha says emotionlessly. Salsan grimaces as Greesha pulls her cannon arms through the sleeves. She worries that Greesha will rip her jacket. Soon, the jacket is covering Greesha’s torso, arms, and even parts of her head. Now, no one will suspect her of being a member of the A.S.S.F., thus there won’t be any panic.

Isuertal has calmed down and is no longer laughing. “Hey, Greesha, I can’t even recognize you now.” Isuertal says, “When Culpata gets back, let’s pretend that Greesha has left and see how long it takes for him to recognize her!” Chlyclanth shakes his head, “No, we’re not teasing Culpata anymore today.” Isuertal frowns, and folds her arms, pretending to pout.

The doors to the visitor’s center open and Culpata walks out, wearing casual day clothes. “You didn’t have to wait for me.” He says, “Let’s go in and register.” The group follows Culpata into the visitor’s center. Greesha steps carefully to avoid scratching the smooth wooden floor with her metal foot. She also holds her arms behind her back, so that no one will notice that she doesn’t have any hands. The registration table is run by a man nicely dressed in a neat dark green suit-jacket over a black dress-shirt with a dark-red tie with black stripes. The man’s eyes glance over the group. When his eyes land on Isuertal’s smiling face, he flinches for just a moment before moving his gaze over the other members in the group.

The man stands up. “You’re here earlier than we expected.” He says, “I’ll contact the manager, she’ll be with you in a few minutes. So if you step away from the counter, I can help these others.”

Isuertal just stands there. “They’re with me.” She says, grinning.

The man frowns, eyebrows wrinkled together in confusion. “W-what do you mean?” He asks.

Isuertal sighs, “Just call over Pumilj, I’ve already talked it over with her.”

The man seems reluctant, but he presses on a button the side of the wall and speaks into a microphone. “Lady Pumilj, Isuertal is here.” They wait for a few minutes in the lobby and soon an old woman with gray hair hobbles into the room, using a rolling walker with two hands as she slowly makes her way through the doorway from a back room. Salsan and Chylclanth exchange glances. That woman is the manager? She must be hundreds of years old. She is definitely older than Culpata, and Culpata is so old that he could probably retire.

Isuertal hadn’t noticed this the last time that she’d seen Lady Pumilj. But now that she’d seen them somewhere else, they stand out against Lady Pumilj’s carpet-like knitted shawl: bead necklaces. Lady Pumilj is wearing bead necklaces. And clearly inscribed into the beads are symbols: Screamer sigils. Lady Pumilj’s eyes look like they’re sealed shut in her wrinkles, but she opens them just a crack and looks towards Isuertal. “Oh, my little girl, Isuertal! It’s you!” Lady Pumilj says in her scraggly but high-pitched old voice, “My, you’ve grown so much since I last saw you. How nice of you to pay me a visit. I get so lonely sometimes. Why, I haven’t had visitors since-”

“Last week.” Isuertal says, rolling her eyes. “Drop the act, ‘Grandma,’ these are my friends.” Salsan nearly gasps at how rude Isuertal is to the old lady. But the old woman just smiles and stands up straight, setting her walker aside. Her wrinkles almost seem to fade. She doesn’t get younger, but she definitely looks younger. Her eyes open wide. With her shoulders back, standing straight up, the captains unconsciously adjust their own posture.

“Very well, old friend.” Lady Pumilj says with her voice lowered to a smooth, business-like voice. “It seems not only was I mistaken, but I’ve lost the bet. You do have friends, or at least, people you’ve convinced to come with you here.”

Isuertal laughs. “Haha! I told you I had friends!” Isuertal says, “So silly, you didn’t take me seriously.”

The old woman is smiling, but it is less gentle and warm and more mischievous. “Yes, it is hard to take you seriously when you boast so many outrageous claims.” Lady Pumilj says. She turns to the captains, “Is it true what Isuertal says? Is she a member of the Anti-Screamer Special Forces?”

“Captain!” Isuertal says loudly, “I’m not just an agent, I’m a captain.”

The old lady rolls her eyes. “Very well, is she a captain of the A.S.S.F.?”

Salsan worries if it is okay to divulge such information to ordinary citizens, even if they are close friends. But her thoughts are interrupted when Chylclanth looks at her in the eyes, smiles and winks, and then turns to Lady Pumilj. “No she is not.” Chylclanth says, beaming, “I actually work at the A.S.S.F., and I’ve never seen her there.”

Isuertal is red in the face, furious. “Lies!” Isuertal shouts, “Salsan, Greesha, back me up here!”

Salsan is a little taken aback that Chylclanth revealed his association to the A.S.S.F. openly, but she decides to scavenge what she can from the dilemma by playing it off like a joke. “Oh yeah, as Representative of the Council of the Grave, I can say for sure that I’d never let someone like her work as a captain under my command.” Salsan says, mockingly, “She’s too unpredictable.”

Chylclanth and Pumilj are laughing as Isuertal stomps on the floor in irritation. Culpata sees the group making fun of Isuertal and joins in. “And as a Screamer, I can say that Isuertal doesn’t provide enough of a challenge to be worth hunting down.” The laughter stops. Culpata gets nervous. They all look at Culpata. Isuertal calms down now that all of the attention is off her. “Oh. Sorry.” Culpata says quietly, “That was taking it too far.”

“It’s okay.” Salsan says, trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation, “Screamer jokes can be funny if done correctly. But it’s best to just avoid joking about Screamers.” Lady Pumilj nods her head sympathetically. Then she turns to Greesha, since Greesha has not yet spoken. They stare at each other for a few seconds. Then Pumilj’s attention shifts back to the group. “Ah, well, I suppose introductions are in order.” Pumilj says loud and clear, “Isuertal, how about you do the honors.”

Isuertal nods. “This is Lady Pumilj, she has looked after me for many years and has been kind enough to allow me to stay at her campground.” Isuertal says almost solemnly, “I don’t live here anymore, but I still visit for a night every week.”

The captains nod along until Culpata raises his hand. “You have something to say, Culpata?” Isuertal asks.

Culpata looks at the others trying to judge their expressions and seems a bit hesitant, but he works up the courage to speak anyway. “Sorry for my manners. But Isuertal, did you say that you used to live here?” Culpata asks.

Isuertal blushes. “Did I say I lived here?” Isuertal asks quickly, “No, I um, I simply stayed here a lot. It was like… almost like a second home.”

Culpata hesitantly raises his hand again. This time, Isuertal seems reluctant to let him speak. “What do you want to say, Culpata?” Isuertal asks aggressively.

Culpata stops, noticing that he has stricken a nerve and considers whether it is wise to continue onwards. “Um, it’s just that.” Culpata says, pausing, “You said this campground felt like a second home… which implies that you had another home and-.” Culpata can see by the expression on Isuertal’s face that he should have just left it alone.

“So what? Who cares where I stayed as a child?” Isuertal shouts, “Moving on! Lady Pumilj, this is Greesha. She’s my boss and closest friend besides you.” Isuertal is still shouting when she introduces Greesha, and the captains and Lady Pumilj can see that Isuertal’s eyes are watering. Culpata is feeling guilty for accidentally hurting Isuertal’s feelings.

“Ah, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Greesha.” Lady Pumilj says. She waits expectantly for Greesha to say something back to her, but the captain makes no response. Pumilj frowns slightly and then looks back to Isuertal for her to continue.

“My friends can be a little shy.” Isuertal says, “So don’t feel bad if they don’t talk to you.” Chylclanth can’t help but feel that Isuertal’s jibe at their unresponsiveness is payback for pretending like she wasn’t actually part of the A.S.S.F. Salsan hides her panic about how much Isuertal might reveal in her introductions. There are some things Salsan doesn’t want strangers to know about her right off the bat. Culpata worries that Isuertal might still be angry at him for what he said.

“Chylclanth is a little hot-headed and competitive, but he usually has our best interests at heart.” Isuertal says. Lady Pumilj chuckles, “So he’s exactly like you, Isuertal?” Isuertal mocks taking offense. “What? I’m completely different. I only sometimes have our best interests at heart.” Isuertal says, “Besides, he’s all bark and no bite, makes quite the racket whenever the doorbell rings or the mail man passes by.”

Isuertal smiles and turns towards Salsan to introduce her as well. Salsan wonders how Isuertal so quickly switches between such strong emotions. “This is Salsan, a dainty snowflake.” Isuertal says, “We have to keep her inside, as you can probably tell. She’d melt in the sun long before she could get a tan.”

“Well, you’re pretty pale yourself, Isuertal.” Lady Pumilj says. Isuertal rolls her eyes. “I’ve been busy.” Isuertal says in defense,  “I don't have time to laze about, sitting outside in the Sun.”

Isuertal turns to Culpata, who flinches when he realizes that it’s his turn to be introduced. “This is Culpata, he’s our mascot.” Isuertal says, “He’s so skinny, sometimes we hoist him up on a flagpole and let him flap in the wind.”

Lady Pumilj pokes Isuertal. “Ha! That’s like a Vampire calling a Werewolf ‘Screamer.’” [Like a pot calling the kettle black] Lady Pumilj says in good-mannered mockery, “You’re so light, I sometimes mistake you for a hollow doll.”

“Yes, but this doll makes good on her promises.” Isuertal says with a mischievous grin, “Can you make good on yours?” Lady Pumlij laughs. “Ahahaha! Directly to the point.” Lady Pumilj says, “I assume that you have thoroughly explained everything to your ‘friends?’” Isuertal pales, and Lady Pumilj laughs harder. “I-I’m working on that part.” Isuertal says, “But I brought them here, so you can count on me to explain it to them.” Lady Pumilj just shakes her head. “You’ll probably leave out a lot of the important details.” Lady Pumilj says, “So I made a brochure, just in case you really followed through and brought along some friends.”

The captains are growing increasingly nervous. Salsan starts to have irrational worries. Is Isuertal selling us as slaves? Is she feeding us to Screamers? She quiets the anxieties with the rationale that Isuertal wouldn’t have needed to convince them to come if that were the case, since she could pretty easily have just kidnapped them if she really planned something so nefarious. Chylclanth can’t help but feel that he has been tricked into a prank set up by Isuertal and her friend Lady Pumilj. Culpata tries to work through his confusion as he fails to follow the conversation between Isuertal and Lady Pumilj, he feels like he is missing something because he can’t make sense of what they’re talking about.

Captain Greesha sits stoically, hiding her sleeve-covered arms behind her back. She glances at the vent in the ceiling. It’s too small for most Screamers to break-in through, but something really tiny, like a Pixie, would be able to fit. The doorways are human-sized, but most Screamers can at least take on the size, if not appearance, of humans. So that wouldn’t block intrusion. The windows are big enough for most Screamers to fit through if opened, and the glass is easily breakable. She would give this building a one out of five rating in its defense against Screamer intrusion. Then she notices that all the captains are just sitting silently, staring at Isuertal and Lady Pumilj, as those two talk together about some plans.

Captain Greesha notices that the old woman does not need the walker that has been discarded against the wall, and Lady Pumilj, while not athletic, is still in great shape. Captain Greesha wants to be in such good form when she grows old, but she worries that if she keeps losing body parts at her current rate, she won’t have any muscles left to exercise when she is Lady Pumilj’s age.

Captain Greesha can’t help but feel incredibly exposed without her gas mask. Now she fears that everyone can tell what she is thinking by looking at her face. It’s like mindreading, she doesn’t like it. She runs over the scenarios of what she would do if a Screamer burst in through the wall. She doesn’t have her military prosthetics, so she would be limited to hand-to-hand combat. But she isn’t as good at that as she would like. With only prosthetics, it’s hard to train in such a fighting style.

Greesha knows that no one is paying attention to her, but she still feels like she is being watched. No, “feels like” is too gentle, she knows that there are people, or at least creatures of some sort, that are watching her. Sometimes she can see them out of the corner of her eye, but only for a moment because they disappear when she turns her head to face them. But then again, it has been like this for just a little over a century. She needs to just ignore them. If she focuses on Isuertal’s sleepover, maybe she can get them out of her head for once. She notices that the other captain’s appear worried. She can tell because of their facial expressions. She hopes they aren’t reciprocating her own fears. Can they see her worries through her face? She is trying so hard to keep her face as placid as possible. No, they’re not even looking at her. They’re watching Isuertal and Lady Pumilj. That’s right, those two have been talking for quite some time now. Perhaps the other captains feel left out? She doesn’t know how to help them include themselves in the conversation. But as the chief captain over the entirety of the A.S.S.F., she should help integrate her captains with the activities that Isuertal and her friend have planned.

She sees Pumilj has gone to the counter to recover a copy of a pamphlet. Captain Greesha stands up. She keeps steady as she walks over to Isuertal and Pumilj and asks, “May I see that?” Lady Pumilj smiles and hands her the pamphlet. “Of course, that’s why we have these.” Lady Pumilj answers. A soft whir of a motor vibrates from Captain Greesha’s left arm as a metal claw zooms out from her sleeve and snatches the brochure. Captain Greesha swiftly turns away before Lady Pumilj can get a good look at her “hand.” The sharp talon-like ends of the claw rip the pages as she fumbles to open the brochure.

Salsan stands to help as Captain Greesha walks back towards the couch. But Salsan stops herself. “Um, Ca-, I mean, Greesha, would you like some help with that?” Greesha frowns in frustration that she needs help with something as simple as flipping through the pages of a pamphlet. Greesha grits her teeth at her struggles with the mundane but catches herself and forces an expression of indifference. “Very well, Salsan, you may read through the brochure.” She says.

Salsan grimaces at the sound of ripping paper when she carefully pulls the pamphlet from Captain Greesha’s grasp. Salsan can still make out most of what it says despite the tears and holes. Captain Greesha and Culpata move to sit next to Salsan so they can read it with her, while Chylclanth stands up to get himself his own copy of the brochure from the front desk. Salsan is a little uncomfortable with how close Captain Greesha and Culpata are to her. They’re squished up against her on the couch, leaning over her shoulder to see the brochure. She can feel Greesha breathing on her neck and hear Culpata slowly sounding out the words aloud. But she doesn’t want to complain about it to Captain Greesha for fear of disrespecting her. Salsan tries her best to pay attention to the details on the brochure.

Welcome to Ghostlight Grove! There are a few features that you can look forward to. We have a lake for swimming, fishing, and boating. Our campgrounds provide cabins and the area is paved in gravel and enclosed with tall stone walls, so rest assured you’ll have a safe, warm, and comfortable stay. We recommend staying inside the cabins after sunset unless you want to participate in our signature event, the nightly trials. The trials are located in the forest that our camp is named after, Ghostlight Grove. If you want to test your courage or impress your companions, this is a great opportunity. The edge of the forest is delineated by a tall wooden fence to prevent courageous trial participants from wandering too far and leaving the forest. If one gets lost, they can always find the wall and follow it back to camp. The trials take place after sunset for the whole hour-long duration of the Dylishan hour of the Ghost quintuple [the 4th hour of the 4th 5-hour period, in other words, it takes place 19 hours into the day, or the equivalent of 7pm]. We have a siren to indicate the start and end of the trials.

Salsan nearly jumps when Captain Greesha has a sudden sharp intake of breath. Salsan looks up at Greesha to see what’s wrong. Greesha is staring off into a corner. She isn’t even reading the brochure anymore. She is staring at nothing. She notices Salsan looking at her and her and opens and closes her mouth as she tries to think of something to say. Salsan can’t help but feel that Captain Greesha is acting off. She doesn’t know why exactly Greesha is acting this way. Salsan figures any combination of reasons between the stressful new orders from the Council of the Grave, the strange slumber party that Isuertal has planned for them, the lack of her gas mask, maybe even the jacket.

Captain Greesha is breathing fast. Salsan can tell that she is quickly becoming panicked. But nothing here seems the least bit threatening. Salsan can tell that Greesha is struggling to keep her breathing calm in front of her subordinates. Greesha keeps glancing at Salsan’s backpack. Salsan is beginning to get nervous. “I-is something wrong, Cap-, I mean, Greesha?” Salsan asks. Salsan turns her whole body to face Greesha, but Culpata clings to the brochure. “Wait!” He says, “I’m not done reading it.” Salsan lets go of the paper, annoyed that Culpata is such a slow reader. She tries to block out his voice as he continues to read the brochure aloud.

Greesha turns her head to the side and her eyes go wide. Salsan is confused until she realizes Lady Pumilj is headed this way. Greesha’s face is twitching. A half-smile jumps on and off the right side of her face. She turns to face Salsan and swallows hard. “I can’t do this.” She says, “I need the mask!” Salsan had always wondered what the gas mask was for, since it doesn’t offer much protection against Screamers. Such creatures are highly unlikely to use chemical warfare or anything to which a gas mask protects. Salsan is now beginning to see that the gas mask isn’t for protecting against Screamers.

Captain Greesha doesn’t wait for Salsan to say anything before she begins unzipping her Salsan’s backpack. She pulls the black plastic and holds it by the straps in her grappling claw from her left arm. “So what do you think about trials?” Lady Pumilj asks, standing directly in front of them. Greesha is starting to tremble. “I need to- um, it’s just that-” Greesha struggles to find the right words, “Where is- Could you- D-do you have a bathroom?” Salsan is quite shocked that this was the cause of Captain Greesha’s troubles. Is that really it? Salsan thinks to herself, Why does she need her gas mask to go to the bathroom? Lady Pumilj glances at the mask Greesha is clutching with her metal grappling hook claw and says, pointing, “The bathroom is down that hall and to the left.” Captain Greesha jumps to her feet and sprints down the hallway, slamming the door behind her.

Isuertal joins them on the couch and asks, “Where’s Greesha?” Salsan doesn’t answer and Culpata is still busy reading the brochure. Chylclanth shrugs his shoulders and Lady Pumilj points. “She went to the bathroom.” Lay Pumilj says. Isuertal frowns in confusion. “What?” Isuertal asks, “Why would she do that?” The other captains don’t respond. They turn away and look uncomfortable. Finally, Culpata finishes reading. He looks up and sees that everyone is having a strange moment of silence again. “What’s going on?” He asks, “What’d I miss?”

Isuertal sighs, “Greesha went to the bathroom and nobody will tell me why.” Culpata looks perplexed. “You know what people do in the bathroom, right?” Culpata asks. Isuertal sighs again, “Of course I do, it’s where you spend hours putting on make-up and setting up disguises and costumes.” Isuertal says, “But I don’t know why Greesha would want to do that. So something else must be going on.” Again everyone is quiet. Lady Pumilj can see that this is going to be embarrassing for Isuertal so she takes Isuertal by the hand. “Um, Isuertal.” Lady Pumilj says quietly, “Could you come with me for a moment?” She leads Isuertal away where she can privately explain that the primary use of the bathroom is for the toilet. The captains can hear Isuertal’s scream of shock and frustration reverberate through the walls.

Chylclanth chuckles when they hear the scream. “Did she really not know what the toilet is for?” He asks rhetorically, “If she doesn’t use a toilet, then how does she-.” Salsan cuts him off. “Please, stop.” She says, “I don’t want to think about it.”

Culpata points to the brochure. “This doesn’t seem like a party in the slightest.” Culpata says, “The pamphlet gives almost no details on the activities here except that they have a lake, a forest, and at night there is something called “the Trials” for an hour.” Chylclanth nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, this isn’t really a slumber party so much as it is plain old camping.” Chylclanth says. Salsan doesn’t say anything. She is worried about what these “Trials” are. She has a feeling that Isuertal is going to force them to participate in them.

…

…

In the back room, Isuertal and Lady Pumilj sit on a cushioned couch with a soft carpet beneath them, and a burning fireplace to give the room light, warmth, and life. Lady Pumilj has boiled up a hot beverage for Isuertal. Isuertal doesn’t know what the drink is. It’s a dark color. Despite her amazing vision, she can’t discern whether it is black, green, or brown. Lady Pumilj has known Isuertal long enough that she doesn’t even warn her to wait for the drink to cool down. Isuertal handles the scalding hot mug and brings it to her lips. It hurts like crazy. She can feel blisters forming on her lips, tongue, and throat as she gulps down the boiling beverage. She can’t taste anything. She hasn’t asked Lady Pumilj about the taste because it has been a long time since she could taste anything. But she knows the purpose of the drink isn’t for it’s taste. She has seen other people drink these types of beverages. She thinks it is meant to calm them. Lady Pumilj always brews this for her when she visits each week.

“Isuertal, are you wearing my ring?” Lady Pumilj asks. Isuertal wishes she had drunk slower, so she could have an excuse to delay in response. She can’t feel her mouth anymore, and everything down her gullet has gone numb. “Of course I am!” Isuertal says awkwardly through her numb mouth. Lady Pumilj raises an eyebrow. “Really?” Lady Pumilji asks, “May I see your hand?” Lady Pumilj takes the mug from Isuertal and looks closely at Isuertal’s fingers. There is no ring. Lady Pumilj sighs and shakes her head in disappointment. “You didn’t even try to fool me with a fake ring.” Lady Pumilj says, “Why bother lying if you know you’re not going to get away with it?”

Isuertal squirms. “I didn’t think you would ask.” Isuertal says. Lady Pumilj grins and holds out a ring in the palm of her hand. It’s a Signet Ring with the Angel Screamer sigil. “You left this behind last time you visited.” She says, “You need to be more careful with your Stamp of Grace.” Isuertal bites her lip and nods vigorously, extremely uncomfortable in the situation. She feels something wet drip down her face. She wipes it off with her hand but her fingers come back red. She bit her lip too hard because her face is numb. Lady Pumilj gets up and gathers some tissues for Isuertal. “Isuertal, promise me, from now on, you won’t ever take off your Stamp of Grace again.” Lady Pumilj demands. Isuertal holds the tissues to her lip and says, “I promise. I’ll make sure to keep this ring on at all times.” Isuertal hasn’t told Lady Pumillj yet, but she doesn’t subscribe to the PentAngeltent sect. She prefers the AvengeAngelists. But, she knows Lady Pumilj would be greatly disappointed if she ever found out, so Isuertal just goes along with the rituals that Pumilij performs daily and the weird requirements to wear the symbol of Angel on her at all times. Lady Pumilj wears it discreetly on a signet ring called “the Stamp of Grace,” and Isuertal also wears it… sometimes. She usually ditches the ring when she’s not with Pumilj and puts it back on when she returns to visit.

Isuertal takes the Stamp of Grace from Lady Pumilj and places it on the pinkie of her left hand. The ring locks in place. It is notoriously difficult to remove a Stamp of Grace, so much so that, despite their value, often decorated in expensive metals and precious stones like gold or diamonds, people usually leave them alone on the corpses that hold them. It’s not like you can sell a ring that still has the finger attached. Though some will go through great lengths, burning using solutions that melt flesh and bone but don’t harm metals and gemstones. It is often said that the Stamp of Grace clings to the finger as strongly as the devout clings to their faith. But of course, that’s just a saying. The ring doesn’t actually react to faith. Lady Pumilj has used to express surprise that Isuertal could remove her ring so easily, but she is used to it by now.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you since I came here today.” Isuertal says slowly, not sure how to approach the subject. Lady Pumilj takes interest and leans forward. “Yes?” She asks. Isuertal gulps hard as she thinks this through. She doesn’t want to sound like she is accusing her of anything. “You-your, your necklace.” Isuertal says, “Could you tell me about it? Like, where did you get it?” Isuertal can’t get it out of her head. It looks just like the one that haunted her earlier. She knows it can’t be the same one. All bead necklaces look the same, right?

Lady Pumilj frowns. “This?” She asks in confusion and almost disappointment, “You got all jittery over asking me about my necklace?” Isuertal laughs nervously, “I know. It’s stupid.” Lady Pumilj laughs a little too. “It’s not stupid, Isuertal.” She says, no longer laughing, tone entirely serious, “You can always ask me about anything at any time.”

“I-I know.” Isuertal says, “It’s just that… I thought this would be different.” Lady Pumilj shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. This is an old necklace of beads that has been passed down in my family for generations. There is a bead for each person in my family.” Pumilj says solemnly, “And, of course, each bead is marked with the Stamp of Grace. I’ve added my bead to it, as well.” Lady Pumilj sits there, staring at the necklace of beads, lost in thought. Isuertal calms herself. This isn’t the same necklace that she saw before. Now that she’s up close, she can tell that it isn’t quite as long as the other necklace. Also, if Pumilj has had this in her family for generations, then this can’t be the same as the bead necklaces she found in the theater.

“We add a bead when we turn 200 years old [66.6 earth years] or when we die, whichever comes first.” Pumilj says, “But I have outlived my children and my grandchildren. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. Now I don’t have anyone to pass our family heirloom down to.” Isuertal doesn’t like the direction this conversation is going. Pumilj turns to Isuertal. “You’re kind of like my family, aren’t you?” Pumilj asks hopefully.

“I know what you’re going to say.” Isuertal says, “But I can’t keep a necklace of beads safe. In my line of work, they’ll flop around on my neck as I run, jump, and fight. They’d break within a week.” Pumilj grins, “No one said you had to wear it.” Pumilj says, “You could keep it locked away. However, I would prefer for you to wear it. So, I’ll weave into a tight-fit bracelet that won’t ‘flop around’ or be easily damaged.”

Isuertal never accepted the necklaces. She never said she would keep them. But then again, Pumilj never said that she had to. That’s just how they communicate with each other sometimes. They speak through things unsaid or implied. “I’ll have the heirloom ready for you by the time you leave tomorrow.” Pumilj says, “You should help your friends get ready for tonight.” Isuertal nods and leaves the room, returning to the lobby with the rest of the captains. She passes the closed door to the restroom on her way there. She’ll never look at bathrooms the same way again. Even worse, it seems like Captain Greesha is still in there. Oh well, I can still brief the rest of the captains.

“Did you read the pamphlet Lady Pumilj prepared?” Isuertal asks. Chylclanth hands his brochure to Isuertal and says, “Have you read it? It tells us nothing.” Isuertal frowns. She looks down at the brochure and reads it. “I don’t see the problem.” Isuertal says, “It explains that they have a lake, walls, cabins, and nightly trials that last for an hour every night. It looks like it covers everything.”

Chylclanth rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t go into any detail.” Chylclanth says, “It doesn’t explain what a trial is or what we can expect to do or experience during that hour.” Isuertal reads through the brochure again. Then she nods in agreement with Chylclanth. “Now that you mention it, this doesn’t really tell you what the trials are.” Isuertal agrees, “Oh well, I guess you’ll just have to find out when we get there.” Chylclanth growls. “What? Why don’t you just tell us what it is?” He asks.

Isuertal ignores him and walks up to the bathroom door. “Greesha, we’re heading out to the campsite.” Isuertal says through the door, “Should I leave a paired tracker with you so you can find us or do you think you can find us on your own?” Isuertal can hear the terrible scratches of metal against metal and the clanking of metal hitting metal. Uh oh. She’s stuck. Isuertal can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles. A muffled grunt of exertion comes through the door as the scratching and clanking metal becomes more frantic. The other captains come to and start to look worried when they see Isuertal rolling on her back giggling like a little child.

“What’s going on?” Culpata asks. Isuertal is having trouble breathing through her laughter and barely manages to wheeze out, “Greesha’s stuck in the bathroom!” Salsan gasps. “We have to get her out of there!” Salsan says with intensity. But they hear Captain Greesha’s muffled voice come back out through the door. “No. Head down to the campsite.” Captain Greesha says, “I’ll meet you there.” Salsan looks like she wants to say something against that, but she doesn’t. She never talks back to Captain Greesha or disobeys orders from her superior.

Chylclanth lifts Isuertal up from the floor and helps her to feet, leading her away from the bathroom so she can stop laughing. The captains exit the building and start following Isuertal towards the campsite. “Captain Greesha never accepted a tracker.” Culpata says, “Should we go back and give her one so she can find us?” Salsan pauses for a moment, she thinks that might be a good idea. But Isuertal shakes her head. “No way. Trust me. Greesha can always find us.” Isuertal says, “Now hurry up or she’ll beat us there!” They pass cabin after cabin and get a better view of the campgrounds. They walk down the gravel road from the campgrounds out to the unkept wilderness. The forest has no roads, no trails, and because no one takes care of it, very few clearings. This forest is called Ghostlight Grove. Salsan can now see how Isuertal is cleverly forcing them to participate in the trials. The trials take place in this very forest in which they will be sleeping. However, Salsan still holds out hope that she can somehow opt out of whatever activity these trials are.

Culpata is having more doubts. “Isuertal, there are no campsites in this forest, just overgrown forest.” Culpata says, “How will Captain Greesha know where to go?” Isuertal groans and says, “I already told you didn’t I? She can find us no matter where we are. You can’t hide from Greesha.” Isuertal speeds up. Chylclanth easily keeps pace but Salsan and Culpata struggle to keep up. Isuertal brushes past bushes, slips under branches, jumps over shrubs and fallen trees. Chylclanth doesn’t bother dodging. He walks through the shrubbery without flinching or slowing down. When he comes across obstacles that are too solid for him to move through, such as fallen trees, he pushes them aside. Salsan keeps close behind Chylclanth, to avoid the tugging branches and bushes. As Chylclanth tramples through bushes and forces branches to move around him, Salsan ducks underneath the swinging arms of the trees and stays in Chylclanth’s wake to avoid the brunt of the force. Culpata, however, isn’t so lucky. Not as agile as Isuertal or even Salsan. Not as strong and durable as Chylclanth. He can’t use Chylclanth as cover like Salsan can. He’s a straggler trying to catch up and forced to run the long way around obstacles, shrubbery, and thickets of dense trees.

They finally reach an incredibly thick, dense section where it is almost impossible to traverse. But Isuertal insists that this is the only way through. After slowly trudging through branches in the face and thorny bushes while squeezing between small trees, they come into a massive clearing. They can actually see the sky clearly now. However, the ground is still blanketed with leaves and sticks, possibly even more so than the floor underneath the canopy. Isuertal stops and growls in frustration. Standing in the center of the clearing is a familiar figure dressed in a combat vest, wearing a gas mask over their face, leaning against a tree on a right arm that is a metal cylinder or a cannon while its the grappling hook that fires from its left arm that is a also metal cannon, that grappling hook has been launched and the line is taught high on a tree nearby. The captains can’t really see the person’s legs underneath those long combat pants, but if it is who they think it is, then they know that the right leg is metal and the left leg is flesh but has a metal foot.

“She really did get here before us?” Chylclanth asks as though he can’t believe it without confirmation, “I thought you were just making fun of how slow we were going, Isuertal.” Chylclanth moves to take a step forward but Isuertal puts her arm out, stopping him. “Careful, this place is booby trapped.” Culpata scoffs. “Booby trapped?” He asks, “Who would place traps in Ghostlight Grove?” Isuertal remains silent for a time as the captains realize exactly who did this. Everyone except for Culpata, who is still waiting on an answer. Isuertal sees Culpata’s confusion and sighs. “It’s me.” Culpata says, “I put the traps here.”

“What?” Culpata asks, “Why?” Isuertal ignores him and gestures for the group to follow her, stepping where she steps as she narrowly evades the snares, pitfalls, foot-grabbing devices and other traps. Salsan pays close attention to Isuertal’s movements and instructions and takes extra time to help Culpata follow behind them. Salsan knows that Culpata is the most likely to trigger a trap and the most likely to be seriously injured from doing so. They finally make it to the center of the clearing with Captain Greesha. Isuertal sets down her bags and gets out a long rope to delineate the safe area that is not trapped, so that her companions don’t accidentally get caught in a snare. Noticeably, there is already a tent set up here in the clearing. Isuertal explains that this is where she sleeps every Ghost day, so she doesn’t bother to take down her tent.

Salsan notices that Captain Greesha is still leaning against the tree. She hasn’t moved at all, but what catches Salsan’s eye is that Captain Greesha isn’t wearing her baggy hooded jacket. On one hand, Salsan doesn’t want to confront Captain Greesha about the jacket she lent to her, but on the other hand, Salsan finds it a bit suspicious that Captain Greesha, who was stuck in the bathroom due to her lack of good way to manipulate the locks and grip the handle with the closest things to hands that she has being a single grappling hook, that she would somehow arrive at the campsite before them without crossing paths with them. Also strange, how would she have known where to go? Once she saw it, it would be obvious that this was the place where Isuertal was staying. But this clearing is hidden behind a thicket of trees, and Ghostlight Grove is a pretty big place to navigate and immediately find Isuertal’s campsite before Isuertal herself could arrive, it seems impossible. But all of that compounded with how strange Captain Greesha was behaving and how the figure Salsan sees before her is not wearing her hooded jacket, it gives Salsan the creeps. She worries that something scary is going on.

Salsan steels herself as she walks up to Captain Greesha, who is still eerily unmoving. “Cap-Captain G-Greesha?” Salsan stutters out despite her trembling fear. The snapping of branches breaking causes Salsan yelps and falls on her back, paralyzed with terror. The grappling hook rips free from the branches above and zips back into Captain Greesha’s left arm cannon. Captain Greesha stops leaning against the tree and instead stands up straight and tall. “Yes, Salsan?” Captain Greesha asks in her gravelly muffled voice. Salsan jumps to her feet and salutes. “S-sorry, Captain.” Salsan says, “I-I was just wondering… w-what happened to the hoodie I lent you.” Salsan worries. Was that too direct? I can’t believe I fell! It didn’t sound like I was accusing her, did it? Salsan goes pale as Captain Greesha doesn’t respond immediately but instead stands perfectly still and silent. If she hadn’t seen her move earlier, Salsan could have believed she was a scarecrow made by Isuertal. After what feels to Salsan to have been an eternity but is actually just a few minutes, Captain Greesh responds. “Sorry, Salsan. I… I couldn’t get out of the bathroom with those long sleeves getting in my way.” Captain Greesha says, “I had trouble getting it off, and by then, I was getting frustrated. Salsan, your hooded jacket is little more than ribbons now. I’m so sorry.”

Salsan sighs in relief. Looking back now, she is a little embarrassed that she had been so scared. She should have expected that Captain Greesha would find herself in such a predicament. It’s like Isuertal said, Captain Greesha can always find them. After all, Captain Greesha always seems to find Isuertal when she is getting into trouble. It is a bit odd that Captain Greesha arrived here before them, but Salsan also knows that with a grappling hook, Captain Greesha can swing through the forest at incredible speed. “You’re not mad?” Captain Greesha asks. Salsan looks back up and shakes her head. “Oh, of course not.” Salsan says quickly, “I didn’t particularly care for that jacket. It was too big for me.” But it means it’s going to be a cold night. Salsan tries to ignore how miserable the night will be without her jacket. Salsan smiles so that Captain Greesha doesn’t feel bad about breaking her jacket. Now that Salsan isn’t so focused on Captain Greesha, she notices that Isuertal and the other captains have finished clearing away sticks and leaves to make room to set up tents.

Isuertal ignores the paper instructions for how to set up the tents. Meanwhile, Culpata slowly reads the instructions aloud. Salsan knows that the tents will all be set up by the time that Culpata finishes reading. Isuertal gets bored with the tents half-way through and leaves Chylclanth to finish while she climbs up trees to set up ziplines. Salsan always finds it amazing when the field agent captains perform amazing feats. Isuertal crawls up the trunk of a tree that only has branches at the very top of its height, so there are no branches low enough for Iusertal to climb. She’s like a spider, skittering up a tree that lacks any handholds. Salsan doesn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but she feels she should tell Isuertal before she puts too much work into her ziplines. “Isuertal, no one else can climb trees like that.” Salsan calls up the tree, “We won’t be able to reach the ziplines.” Isuertal’s mouth drops open in shock. Salsan had expected this. It hadn’t occurred to Isuertal that no one else can climb trees with such ease. Isuertal thought everyone could do that.

Isuertal sets up the zip lines anyway. She figures it is the best way for the others to pass into and out of the campsite without triggering any traps. But now she needs to craft a way for the other captains to reach the tops of these trees to access these ziplines. Luckily, she has tons of crafting supplies gathered here. Salsan helps Chylclanth with the tents while Isuertal runs around through the camp with miscellaneous materials. It’s not long at all until Chylclanth and Isuertal finish the tents. And sure enough, Culpata is still reading the instructions. Chylclanth looks from left to right, frowning. “Wait, where is Isuertal?” He asks.

“Up here!” Isuertal calls from above them at the top of the trees with the zip lines. The captains gasp in awe. She crafted a rope swing-like seat with a wooden plank held by two lines of rope. It’s part of a pulley system that has a boulder as the counterweight. Using a ratchet, you can crank the counterweight into the air and the wooden seat back to the ground. Then, by pulling a lever, you can allow the counter weight to fall, hoisting the seat to the top of the tree where they can reach the zip line. Salsan is impressed. She knew that Isuertal had some skill to crafting due to the pranks she childishly uses at the compound, but this is on a whole other level. What strikes Salsan as odd is that Isuertal had the materials to make this just lying around. That’s when she realizes that the materials used are normal materials that she just had on-hand. The rope, boulder, wooden plank, and two of the wheels that ropes came coiled about when Isuertal bought it are all commonplace and expected. The only odd materials are the lever and the axle for reeling the counterweight upwards. Salsan is amazed that Isuertal could form such a device from those basic materials. Now looking around the campsite, Salsan realizes that Isuertal has a lot of materials gathered in piles and even in her tent.

Chylclanth starts digging a fire pit while Culpata collects wood for the fire. Salsan watches closely to make sure that Culpata doesn’t get caught in a trap. Captain Greesha stands perfectly still, a statue-like sentinel. As everyone gets settled in and the sun begins to set, Isuertal is grinning and pacing with restless energy. Salsan fears she knows why. It’s almost the Dylishan hour of the Ghost quintuple. She still doesn’t know what the trials are. Finally, Isuertal stops walking and turns to face the group. “It’s almost time. Listen up, the trials are an hour in which ‘brave’ campers wander out into the forest of Ghostlight Grove and try to persevere through the entire hour without being caught by pursuers. Anyone can be a pursuer. Usually, they’ll have some sort of costume. But sometimes they don’t, so campers can’t be sure who to trust. Now, since we are the most elite of the Anti-Screamer Special Forces, it doesn’t make sense for us to be running from a bunch of people in costumes. So we’ll be pursuers.

Salsan frowns. That hadn’t been at all what she had been expecting. Chylclanth chuckles. “That sounds like Tag.” Chylclanth says, still laughing. Culpata also seems confused at how excited Isuertal is for this game. Isuertal just grins mischievously, eyes glinting in the firelight. “Yes.” Isuertal says slowly, deliberately,  “ Just. Like. Tag.” She slowly saunters to her tent and gets out a massive hiking backpack that is way too full. Salsan is worried that the zipline might break if she tries to use it while wearing that pack. “Okay, guys. Take the zip line and follow me.” Isuertal says as she walks through the leaves, avoiding the hidden traps that only she can locate. Captain Greesha gets a headlamp because she can’t manipulate other lights. Chylclanth gets a flashlight. Culpata gets a fire-light lantern and a few glow sticks. Salsan wonders if it’s cheating but decides to use the night vision and thermal vision goggles. Salsan wonders why Captain Greesha bothered with a headlamp when her gas mask has night vision and thermal vision just like the goggles. Salsan also retrieves motion trackers and cameras. She knows that the trials as described sound like “Tag,” but Isuertal recommended it, so she has to be ready for anything.

They follow Isuertal outside the thicket. “Before you start hunting, I want you to see how we do things.” Isuertal whispers, “I know where a group of other campers are that have decided to brave the night with tents in the forest instead of the safety of the cabins.” They follow, and soon enough, they can make out fire light. The flickering campfire of a group of somewhere around seven campers with one adult leader telling them a spooky story. Hidden in the bushes out of sight of the campers, Isuertal whispers to her companions, “Wait here, and silently watch as I show you how to act as a pursuer.” Salsan notes that she hasn’t yet heard the siren signal the start of the trials. Isuertal slinks up a tree above the campers, hiding herself in the canopy. She takes something out of her backpack but the captains can’t see what it is.

The adult guide for the campers is nearing the climax of his story. “Morsol hid in a hollow log, waiting out the trials. He was four minutes away from safety. Four minutes away from the siren signal. But he made the mistake of staying in one place. Just as his friends had made the mistake of running away. There is no escaping the Lassosine. Finally, Morsol heard it. The siren call! He gleefully climbed out of his log and started walking back towards camp. But that’s when he realized. The siren sound wasn’t coming from camp. It wasn’t coming from behind and above him. And now that he listened closely, it wasn’t the same as the siren. It was slightly different. He made the mistake of turning around to face it. Bloody burlap sack over its head, Lassosine hung from the noose clinging to the tree, and so were his friends. Burlap sack, noose, and blood, he could barely distinguish his friends from Lassosine. The key difference was the Lassosine was still moving. Every time, he blinked, the noose would be clinging to a different branch. A branch much closer to him. Then the siren rang. This time, when he blinked, the Lassosine disappeared and his friends were slumped on the ground. They slowly stood up and pulled the burlap sack off from over their heads. They congratulated Morsol on being the only one from their group to survive for the whole hour.” The captains only then realize that this isn’t a ghost story at all, this is just a retelling of a previous trial. Salsan thinks that This definitely isn’t Tag.

An ear splitting scream that sounds like it’s from a woman in such a sorrowful voice. They can hear weeping as it echoes through the forest. The sun has now fallen below the horizon. “Well, that’s the siren scream!” The adult guide says, standing up, “Be on the lookout for pursuers, especially ‘Screamers.’” A body falls from the tree above the campfire but is caught in mid-air with the snap of a rope. The limp body dangling from a noose, head covered in a burlap sack dripping in red liquid, it was just as described in the story: Lassosine. The campers scatter in all directions, but the adult guide flinches but stands his ground. “Can’t get me if you’re stuck in that rope.” He taunts, “Let me douse this fire, so you don’t burn yourself when you drop free.” The captains are impressed by the bravery of this man. He has clearly experienced the trials before. “I’m surprised you knew that story.” The man says as he fills a bucket with dirt, “Unless, of course, you were the pursuer in that story. Though, I doubt the credibility since the kids were frightened out of their minds. They said Lassosine was able to chase them while hanging from the noose.” He lifts up the bucket to pour it on the fire. But when he stands up, the body hanging from the noose is gone. He freezes. He looks around, holding the bucket up like a weapon. “S-show yourself!” He feels wet strands of what feels like hair brush against the back of his neck. He turns himself about to see that it wasn’t hair, but a rope noose dripping wet with a dark black tar. He realizes too late, his mistake. The tar sticks to the back of his neck. By turning around, he has placed his head in the loop. Then he sees it, Lassosine. It hangs in front of him, swaying gently from side to side. It cries softly, a soft scream. It sounds just like the siren signal. He panics. He grabs the noose around his neck and yanks it free since it has not yet been tightened to fit his neck. But he is too focused on the noose. When he looks back up, Lassosine is missing again. He holds his breath in anticipation. Everything goes black as a soaking wet burlap sack is pulled over his head and a rope tightens around his chest, and a loose necklace like rope is draped around his shoulders. He feels himself hoisted into the air by this rope harness. Finally, he can’t hold his breath anymore. He breathes in. It isn’t blood. It smells like bad medicine. He can’t feel his limbs. He stops thrashing.

“And that’s how it’s done.” Isuertal says, hanging from a rope with a wet sack over her head. The dual-grappling hook launchers at the top of the rope swing her from branch to branch back towards the captains. “I-is he dead?” Salsan whispers. Isuertal laughs. “Haha, are you serious? Of course not.” Isuertal says, “I soaked the sacks in sleeping gas. He’ll be fine.” They are still a bit startled at what happened. They were expecting something like Tag. This is nothing like Tag at all. The costume was far more intense than they had expected.

Isuertal jumps down from her rope and pours the bucket of dirt over the fire, extinguishing the only light left. “There are a few more things left to explain. Pursuers hunt everyone, including other pursuers. They can choose to work together, but they can never be sure if others won’t turn on them.” Isuertal says, “So tonight, you will all work together to hunt me. Stick together and incapacitate anyone you come across, especially other pursuers. Can you catch me before the hour is up? That is your test.” Isuertal cackles with mad laughter and jumps up the tree. She bounds from branch to branch. Culpata doesn’t think this is quite fair. None of them are familiar with this activity, and Isuertal is just abandoning them to do this on their own. With that injustice in mind, he grins. If she wants to play it this way, that’s what we’ll do. But she forgets, it’s four against one. Without Isuertal leading them with her familiarity, Captain Greesha immediately takes command. “Stay close, captains. If we are to believe Isuertal, we must expect there to be others like her waiting to catch us. Any stragglers will be taken down first. So we’ll have a routine roll call to make sure we’re all here.” Captain Greesha says with the voice of authority familiar to the captains, “Isuertal is a pursuer. She will be hunting other prey, even other pursuers. So if we gather everyone together, we can use them as bait. But first we need to get an idea of how dangerous the others are before we split up.”

“W-we’re splitting up?” Culpata asks, trembling. Captain Greesha turns to him. “Not yet. First we must incapacitate a few pursuers to see what we’re up against.” Captain Greesha says, muffled through her gas mask, “Then you will pair with Salsan to gather everyone, pursuers and prey together back in this campsite.” Culpata is scared. He worries that Isuertal will get him when he’s not with Captain Greesha. But no one else objects to Captain Greesha’s plan. They journey deeper into the forest, Ghostlight Grove. They rightly feel unprepared for what they might face.