Skirted Spies: Season 1

Episode 3-2: 2Spooky4Me

Night two at the warehouse. Here we go!

When we got there, we noticed that the cameras we placed last night  were missing. We certainly didn't take them with us. Damn thieves. We didn't waste time with surveillance detail in the van. Instead, we decided the best course of action would be to set up the interior with traps.

There were primitive ones that I designed, like the net trap I always saw in Scooby Doo. The bad guy would walk onto the net, and then it would snatch him up, leaving him helpless while I take off his spooky mask.

"You think you're Fred or something?" Clyde asks while I rig up my trap.

"C'mon gang, we got a ghost to catch!"

Clyde had more advanced traps than me. He set up a proximity EMP that  would go off if it detected the energy we previously witnessed. If our hunch was correct, the stealth suit we think he's using would go haywire and malfunction, making him visible. Either way, something's getting caught tonight!

Everything was set, and we hide in the dark corner packed with abundant boxes. We decided to close all the doors, leaving the area  pitch black. The night goggles still had a role, even if we couldn't use  the thermal option. Just standard settings were good enough.

We wait for thirty minutes, and I eagerly glance at my watch,  waiting for the right time. It was 02:45 hours right now, and I thought  03:00 would be when things started up, with it being the witching hour and whatnot. But then a thought crossed my mind.

"Hey Clyde," I whisper.

"Yeah?"

"We came here and prepared the place for invading parties right?"

"Uh, duh. Why would you even ask that?"

"Well, what if the people we're looking for never left?"

A deep, startling voice booms right behind my shoulder, "Surprise!"

I feel a strong punch on my cheek, but didn't see a fist at all. I stumble away, reaching to pull my gun from its holster. I hear Clyde grunting, most likely struggling with the invisible force. When I set my eyes on him, it looked like he was wrestling with himself. I aim my gun at him, but of course I don't fire. Clyde sees me aiming, and  drops to the floor immediatly. I follow up on his prompted action  and fire above him. That's when I saw a squirt of blood shoot out from that general area. Ghosts don't bleed!

The howl of pain came afterward, followed by the sound of heavy  footsteps running away. Clyde regains his composure, and starts  running in the direction the blood was trailing. Suddenly he trips, and he couldn't get up. I guess there's more than one threat here.

I dash towards them, and heave myself in a shoulder tackle. I  collide with the invisible wall, leaving Clyde room to get back up. I'm not exactly bulky in my physique, so I didn't send the guy flying. In fact, it seems to barely phase him as I feel sticky fingers on the back of my neck. By the time I knew it, I was flying through the air, thrown by what seems to be super human strength.

I land hard on the floor, and continue to skid along it until I hit my own net. Captured and suspended, I could only watch Clyde struggle in an obviously outnumbered fight. Then I remember I have a knife with me as well.

I bring it out of my pocket, and begin to cut away at the ropes. I don't get very far as something sticky swats my hand, knocking my only hope of escape out of my grasp.

"Hey!" I yell. That only prompts another slimy slap on my face. Gross! What is this stuff, saliva!? I think a little of it got in my mouth. I wipe my face with my jacket sleeve, but then my eyes start tearing up for some reason.