Brief and Crewsocks: Ghost Hunters

Chapter 1

*** Continued from Panty and Stocking: Backlace to School ***

There is something that is probably true whether you are in heaven, hell, or halfway in between—if you go looking for trouble, you will never fail to find it.

Through the dilapidated buildings of the slums of Daten City in the early evening rolled a vehicle that did not seem to belong in such a neighborhood. The shiny black SUV with a satellite dish and other odd attachments rolled down the street, carefully obeying the speed limit—perhaps cruising for some trouble.

At the vehicle's wheel was a boy of only 17 with pale skin and blue hair, short on the sides and long on the top. He wore an oversized black hooded sweatshirt, a simple white t-shirt, and a pair of blue cargo pants. He was nervous, not about driving through such a dangerous neighborhood—but that this wasn't his vehicle at all.

The owner of the vehicle sat by his side was the actual owner of the vehicle. A boy the same age as him, but with thick, curly orange hair that was so unkempt that it covered his eyes. He was dressed in a green jumpsuit and had freckles. The reason he had assigned the other boy to drive his new, expensive vehicle was that he was busy with some other costly and high-tech-looking gadget—a radar of sorts that showed red blips in various directions around them.

"I had no idea there were so many—" remarked the orange-haired boy, Brief, as he stared at the radar stoically.

"I told you," replied the blue-haired boy, Crewsocks, "I read that ghosts are created from sorrow and regret—and you'll never find more than in this area of the city."

Brief taps his radar and commands, "Pull over here. There is a signal here worth exploring."

Crewsocks pulled the SUV over to the curb and parked it in front of a dark alley down which no moon or starlight pierced.

The two boys quickly disembarked and geared up. Brief strapped on a high-tech-looking backpack from which a cable extended into a sci-fi ray gun that was large enough that he needed to wield it with two hands. From the back of the SUV, Crewsocks pulled a riot shield a Jian sword with an odd-looking device at the hilt with wires plugged into the blade.

The two boys stood in front of the alley. Brief pressed a button on his gun which caused a loud whirling sound to emanate from the backpack and yellow lights across the gun to come to life. Crewsocks pressed buttons on the shield and sword causing a sky-blue aura of energy to radiate around them. They took a moment to pose together for an unseen cameraman. This was their first real ghost battle together without being able to rely on angels.

Readied for battle, the two boys stepped bravely forward into the dark alley. Looking good and ready for battle.

But only a few steps in, a horrible stench overtook them. Both boys keeled over, reaching for the walls of the alley to steady themselves, retching and gagging on the impossibly horrific stench.

"What is that smell?" whined Brief between heavy coughs.

"I don't," Crewsocks gasped for air only to immediately regret it as the putrid air hit his lungs. He dropped to his knees, trying to cover his mouth to stop himself from vomiting.

At the end of the alleyway, a dumpster opened, and out drifted a noxious and gaseous ghost that seemed to be composed of trash. It began to cackle menacingly at the boys. "More trash to lay on the heap!" it threatened. As it spoke the putrid smell drifted across the alley and smacked the boys hard, driving them to their hands and knees in utter disgust.

Brief stumbled with his fingers across the buttons of the gun while trying to point it toward the approaching creature. But his hands, nervous from sweat, couldn't seem to get a correct grip on the trigger.