Explain It Like I'm Tree

Interruptions

I'll be shocked if the place doesn't already have someone haunting it.

Lewis carefully collected himself and his locket out of the truck. Its body sighed, settling lower on the wheels as he resumed his skeletal form and drifted toward the factory. Rain passed through him, a couple drops splashing the locket every few seconds.

No other vehicles in the lot. Either he beat Mothman here, or...

He hesitated by the front left wheel. It was still possible he was dealing with a professional ghostbuster who was posing as a kid online. Someone who would have made sure to get here plenty early and set up a good position. Maybe even some sort of trap. Such a person wouldn't announce themselves by leaving a car in the lot.

CRACK-ACK-CK

Lewis bolted, phasing through the front doors. That thunderclap came far too close, like a bomb going off overhead. He caught himself on the other side of the doors.

"Stupid!" he growled. "Lightning can't hurt me!" But a ghostbuster could.

Brrrrrrrrrrring.

Lewis flared up, gathering a ball of pink flame in the palm of his hand for light and intimidation. Directly in front of him sprawled a swollen, bursting particle-board desk. Scattered secretarial supplies littered the surface and the floor around it. A black plastic telephone perched on the far left end of the desk.

Brrrrrrrrrrring.

He eyed the phone. No way a place like this still had service. This was because he'd spoken, right?

Brrrrrrrrrrring.

He reached his free hand toward the receiver, hesitated, then picked it up between two fingers.

Static sizzled on the line for a moment. Then the laughter started. "Ha-haHAHAHAHA! AHahaHAHAhahaHAHA!"

Lewis dropped the receiver, slamming both hands onto the phone. The casing cracked and melted under his flaming grip. Smoke poured from the mess, and a few pitiful sparks flashed as the hideous laughter stuttered to silence.

Breath. Lewis needed to pant. Needed to gasp. Needed the reassurance of air flowing in and out of his lungs. His shoulders moved up and down, mimicking the necessary motion, but no relief came.

That was Arthur's voice. But not Arthur. No, not anything like Arthur.

Rattle-click-rattle

Lewis spun around, aiming his hands at the door. This was a mistake. What was he thinking, coming to an abandoned factory to meet an unknown paranormal investigator? He wasn't this desperate. Not anymore. He was going home. He could keep everything under wraps all by himself. He'd make it work. He just had to get back to the cab.

The chains outside continued to rattle as the doors shifted back and forth incrementally. Someone was trying to get in. A voice on the other side muttered.

Brrrrrrrrrrring.

No! He'd destroyed the phone! He turned back to the desk, grabbing the twisted mass of plastic and metal. Glancing around, he spotted a hallway that led off to another set of rooms.

Brrrrrrrrrrring.

He hurled the mess down the hall. Backing away from it, he flared up as bright as he could, collecting a fireball between both hands. When he could barely contain it, he hurled it down the hall after the demented machine.

Brrrrrrrrrr—

Silence. Finally. Lewis crossed his arms over his chest, staring into the darkness. If that thing so much as creaked...