Fenton shined his light upon the ghosts as he shook in fear and began hyperventilating. They stalked slowly toward him, moaning gibberish to each other. The teen pressed his back as hard as he could against the wood, barely able to hold the flashlight in his quivering hand. He stared frantically from one ghost to the other, unable to form a clear thought. What do they want?

He suddenly remembered the camera hanging around his neck. Fenton fumbled it in his hand, pointed it toward the ghosts, and pressed the button. But he apparently had pressed the wrong one; the camera made a low winding down sound, then folded itself into a tight box the size of a wallet.

Fenton gasped loudly and attempted to pry it open, smacking the side with his palm and shaking it violently, but it wouldn't budge, "No no no no no! Not now!"

He looked back up just in time to see one of the ghosts swinging his sickle down at him. Fenton barely managed to duck in time, the sharp tip embedded in the gate where his head would have been. The other ghosts flailed their torches and makeshift weapons at him as they got closer, their moans growing louder and more desperate. The raven-haired teen ducked and dodged their blows with clumsy agility, then broke through them and ran down the road as fast as he could, daring not to turn back.

"Don't lose them!" another voice cried out angrily.

Thankfully they were desperately slow, and as Fenton veered off into an alley, then made a sharp turn into another, jumped a wooden fence, and hid behind the wall of a house, they couldn't keep up. The raven-teen ducked down on his rear, pressed his back against the cold stone, and turned off his flashlight so they wouldn't be able to see him. He covered his mouth with his shaking hands, trying to keep as quiet as possible, though his panting through his nose was very loud. But he hoped that he was still quiet enough that they wouldn't hear.

He peeked cautiously around the corner and saw the light from the torches pass gradually by through the cracks between the planks of wood. Breathing a sigh of relief, Fenton spent the next several minutes trying to catch his breath. Why were those villagers chasing him in the first place?

There was a slight numb sensation in his left upper arm. He looked down at the numbing area, slowly rolled his sleeve up and started gently massaging an old scarred injury on his bicep.

"Gotta remember not to get too worked up," he said quietly to himself, rotating it with his shoulder to get the circulation going again, "I might need this arm later."

After a few more minutes, Fenton carefully stood back on his feet and looked around at his surroundings, still rubbing his arm. It looked like the edge of town; a small dirt road wound around the back of the two other houses on either side of the one his was standing behind. The other side of the road plunged downward to a steep grassy cliff. A gravel patch stood behind each house, probably meant to be backyards.

The raven-haired teen stepped forward a couple paces to peek over the edge of the cliff; nothing but darkness and mist, the same that covered their path when he and Phantom first entered town.

"Phantom … " he looked up at the cloudy, gloomy sky, " … where are you?"

"Yae!" a male voice called behind him, causing him to jump and spin around to face the person it came from, "Yae! What are you still doing here?"

A young man gripped the bars of a small window at the back of the house, dressed in an aged brown yukata. His hair was platinum white and cut in a flat straight style, and he was obviously of Asian decent. His clothes, face, and hair were dirty and torn, as if he'd been beaten or something. After looking at the bars on the window, Fenton realized something; it wasn't a house, it was a prison.

"What are you still doing here?" the man repeated, "Where's Sae?"

"Sae?" the teen furrowed his eyebrows, "Who is Sae? And who are you?"

The young man seemed offended, "Don't you recognize me? It's Itsuki, they captured me while I was trying to help you two escape, but where is Yae?"

"Look 'Itsuki'," Fenton put his hands on his hips, "I don't know who you are or what you're talking—" he then realized the last part the man said, "Wait, did you say you know a way out of the village?" he grasped for hope.

Itsuki continued, "You and Yae have to get out of here before the ritual starts!"

"What ritual? Who's Sae? Or Yae for that matter? What the heck are you talking about? I'm looking for my friend Phantom. P-h-a-n-t-o-m."

"If they've captured Sae, they've taken her to the Kurosawa House on the other side of the gate," the man seemed as though he hadn't heard anything Fenton had asked, "if you can find her, you might be able to save her and escape."

"I don't care about who these Yae or Sae people are, what about Phantom? Is that where he is? And why are you calling me two different names?"

"There are two keys you need to open the gate," he pointed through the bars at a small statue, only about three feet tall, "they're scattered along the perimeter of the village next to the deity statues, but I can't remember which ones."

Fenton turned his flashlight back on to get a better look at the statue. It was made of old carved stone. The shape was much like one of those Matryoshka dolls with intricate designs and writing from a language the teen couldn't quite make out. The face was carved to look like an actual person, not that of a happy little toy.

"What are these? What do they do? Or mean?" Fenton bent down and reached a hand toward it. As soon as he made contact with it, he felt the strange sensation he'd felt before as another vision shown in his mind.

He saw a tunnel leading underground, heard the same sound of bells chiming. Then a wide, open cave with a deep pit in the center. Strange men stood on either side of a path that led to the pit, they looked like priests of some sort, their faces covered by a cloth. They beat their long staffs to the stone ground in rhythm, bells tied off at the top of the staffs. Just in front of the pit stood a pair of girls with long black hair, holding each others hand, facing the pit. They were obviously twins, and looked no older than ten years old. Then they slowly turned to each other, their faces hidden behind their long hair, and released each others hand. One reached her hands up to her sister's throat; neither spoke a word but he could hear one speak in his mind. "Together forever."

With a loud gasp, Fenton retracted his hand as if the statue was a snake ready to strike. He crawled backward away from it; what was that?

"You must find the keys to the gate and save Sae before it's too late," and the young man started to disappear.

"Wait!" the raven-haired teen scrambled to his feet, ran to the window, stood on his tiptoes to reach the bars and look inside, "What about Phantom? Is that where I can find him?"

But Itsuki had already disappeared, leaving Fenton alone again. He growled and released the bars, sliding back down to his feet. For the next few minutes, all the teen could do was stand there, staring at the wall, trying to let everything sink in. All he knew was that he had to rescue Phantom, no matter the cost, and he knew his counterpart would do the same for him.

Fenton shined his light back toward the statue, studying it for a while longer, making sure he knew what to look for throughout the village. With a deep breath, the raven-haired teen straightened up and followed the path toward the right. It seemed like forever before he reached another statue down the road. He rushed toward it, hoping to find a piece of the key Itsuki was talking about, but found nothing. How many of these are there? Do I have to search the entire village?

After more walking, Fenton came across another statue. He didn't think much about it, until he saw something reflecting next to it. This brought him some hope, and he dashed forward. Lying in the grass next to the statue was a strange key; it looked like the palm of a right hand, though it was carved into a rectangular shape, only looking like a hand by the carving decoration on it.

"One down one to go," he whispered as he carefully put it into his pocket.

It was then he heard the familiar moaning, and saw the light from torches out of the corner of his eye. Fenton gasped and started running down the road, trying to put as much distance as he could between him and the mob. As he ran, he came to another statue; he shined the flashlight at it, but nothing reflected so he decided to keep moving as fast as he could.

The teen thought he'd lost the villagers, when another group appeared in front of him on the path. He skid to a stop and attempted to turn and run the other way, but saw the other villagers quickly descending upon him. He shined his light back and forth, realizing he was trapped, and still didn't know what they had planned.

Fenton looked at the building to his right and saw it, a ladder! It led to the rooftop of the house. At least it was some chance of escape. He made a mad dash for it, putting the flashlight in his teeth so he could use both hands to climb. Grasping the either edges with is hands, the raven-haired teen clambered up the steps, just barely missing the heat of a torch being swung at him.

He heaved himself onto the ledge of the ceramic shingles, struggling to keep his grip. The villagers shouted angrily below him, moaning something incomprehensible, save for one phrase repeated, "Don't let them escape!"

The rooftop was slanted into an upside-down 'V' shape, and the steep angle was hard to climb. Fenton barely managed to make it to the top, standing and holding his arms out to help keep his balance. Was he safe up there? Highly doubtful. When the teen was sure he could keep his balance, he started to make his way across the top. If he could just manage to stay out of their reach …

He heard scraping feet against the ladder; they were trying to climb it! Fenton decided to screw it and run. It was very clumsy and tricky, but it was working, until he came to the divide between the houses. Great, he was going to have to jump. With a leap of faith, he barely made it over rooftop, accidentally kicking down several shingles from it. Maybe he could keep this up, or at least until he was out of range for them to surround him again.

It seemed like he was running forever, jumping from roof to roof of several houses, gaining very little ground, when the light from his flashlight caught something. Was it the second piece of the key?! Suddenly, Fenton tripped over his feet, his left foot trying to double step his right. He hit the angled roof hard and started to slide down. Just before he hit the ground, he managed to grab the corner, saving himself from a nasty fall. But it wasn't over, he was still being chased.

Luckily he was just far enough ahead that he could make a slight detour to inspect the shining object. Yes! It was the other piece of the key, half hidden under the statue. He pulled on it, trying to pry the key loose, but it wouldn't budge. The angry mob was getting closer, and Fenton was getting more desperate. He pressed both his feet against the statue and pushed with all his might. Just before they could reach him, the stone statue gave way and tumbled noisily down the cliff.

The villagers shrieked in anguish as they watched they're precious deity statue plunge over the side into the darkness. While mourning the loss of their ancient relic, they were distracted long enough for Fenton to pull himself to his feet, shove the key into his pocket, and run for his life, literally. He turned a corner, then another and another, not sure exactly where he was going, just that he had to put as much distance as he could between himself and the mob.

Fenton came to a familiar sight, the street running down the center of the village! He followed it, hoping he was going in the right direction. The large wooden gate was just up ahead! If only he could make it before—

"There they are," came more voices, close on his heels.

The raven-haired teen picked up the pace, knowing that whatever lay behind the gate was safer than this side, maybe. He ran down the steps toward the door, the sight of the torches behind him growing closer. He hit the wood with a loud echoing thud, but he refused to let that slow him down. With his hands trembling, he frantically tried to force the pieces of the key together, creating what looked like two hands side by side.

Fenton searched wildly for the keyhole it was supposed to fit into, only to realize it was directly in front of him. With an internal face-palm, he jammed it in sideways, turning it to the right as any normal key would. He looked over his shoulder; the villagers were mere yards away! There was a loud click as the lock relented. The raven-haired teen pushed the heavy door open with all his might, making a crack just big enough for him to squeeze through.

He retrieved the key from its hole and let the doors slam closed behind him. The last chore that needed to be done; he had to lock the gate from this side, turning it to the left, this time seeming a bit more strenuous. The mob pounded loudly against the doors, but fortunately they were unable to open it. After several minutes of trying, they gave up and retreated.

Fenton fell on his knees, breathing heavily and sweat running down his face. He felt his left arm starting to go numb again, and gripped it tightly, running his hand up and down it. The teen didn't know how much more of this he could handle, but he had to find Phantom, no matter what lay before him.

After finally catching him breath, he stood back up and shined his flashlight down the path to see where it led it. Fenton widened his eyes when he saw it, "Are you freaking kidding me?!"

It was a creepy old wooden bridge, not three feet above a murky lake that led into the mist. It looked like a single step might cause it to collapse, and Fenton was not in the mood to swim in water the consistence of watered-down syrup. Did he seriously have to cross it?

...

Phantom blinked several times as he tried to focus in the dark, "What the hell just happened?" and looked about his surroundings, "Where am I?"

It appeared as though he was in a courtyard of some sort, lit by the moon, and looked much more welcoming than where he had just been. A pair of fancy pillars stood at the beginning of a long stone path that led to a building that looked like some kind of oriental mansion. Old, ragged bushes lined the walls, twisted and lifeless, dead grass on either side of the path.

The ghost teen was so focused on the sight that he almost didn't notice a girl standing down the road. He finally spotted her, and the sight gave him chills. She was dressed in a white formal kimono, blood splattered and stained all over the front. She laughed quietly to herself, just loud enough for Phantom to hear.

He raised his camera and flashed it, but lo and behold, she was too far away for a clean shot, and simply disappeared, her laughter lingering a moment longer.

With a loud growl, Phantom shook the device, "You have the crappiest range!"

He looked to his left and then to his right, but saw nothing menacing trying to rip his soul out. With a heavy sigh, he reached into his pocket, "Screw it," and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Phantom was somewhat of a closet smoker; only a few people knew he did it, and he'd only have one once or twice a week, or when he was overly stressed, and now was as good a time as any. Fighting ghosts in the human world and dealing with the Fentons was stressful enough, but here? Most people would probably be crapping their pants right about now. He pulled a cigarette out, settled it in his lips, and flicked on his zippo lighter, which was engraved with a non-smoking sign for humor. Taking a deep puff and exhaling slowly, he could already feel himself relaxing.

The ghost teen leaned back against the door and slid to a relaxed sitting position, resting his arms on his knees as they bent.

"I wonder how Fenton's doing ... " he said quietly to himself, taking another drag, " ... hope he's okay ... "

Phantom was always protective over his counterpart, but did his best not to show it at times with his tough guy composure. The silver-haired teen had every right to, after what happened that day. He furrowed his brow and bowed his head as old memories came to him that he had hoped to forget, but would be engraved in his mind forever.