And so I'm back in the Lockwood & Co fandom for a while, so I decided to do this.

I'll write little ficlets, each detailing cases with the gang! I want to have people suggest prompts as well, cuz I like writing for other people. Let's begin.

Case #1: The Weeping Woman

If you even went to school after hours for things such as extracurricular activities, you'd know how eerie it strange emptiness, all the classrooms are dark, everyone has gone home for the day. The hallways are dark, the doors all closed. You can peer through those windows installed in classroom doors and view the empty desks, scattered pencils and pieces of crumpled paper littering the floor like dead leaves, the occasional forgotten backpack leaning against a chair. It feels like a ghost town, something abandoned. Now, imagine that mixed together with miasma and the feel of being followed.

That just about sums up what it's like to be inside a haunted school, where Lockwood & Co had taken a case. Grimsby School for the Gifted and Talented was the name of the place; the building we were investigating was called Molly Keller Hall. It was very old, the windows foggy with age, squinted and tired. The building was built from worn bricks, a fair few of them broken. In short, it was in need of repair. The school board had begun to renovate the building, but after three deaths, they called us in.

It wasn't used for class if that's what you were wondering. It was one of the school's girl's dorms, which made this all the more troubling. I could imagine it was so for both the girls staying there and the workers. It would be tough to sleep with the fear of a ghost, and it would be tough to work with the constant chatter of teenage girls. The school installed strips of iron across the thresholds of the dormitories, which was a bit safer, but the problem was there were no bathrooms in the actual dorm rooms. The only bathrooms were communal, down the hall on each floor.

Three girls living on the fifth floor had gotten up in the night to use the bathroom (separately, not all at once,) and had met their grisly end at the hands of a ghost. Those who had gotten away claimed a female figure had attacked them in the bathroom or not far from it. The focus of the haunting seemed to be in one wing.

Which brings us to where we are now.

"So," Lockwood's grin was bright and shiny as ever as the four of us sat in one of the building's common rooms, "Tell me more about this ghost."

Sarah Norbury, a pretty student maybe a little younger than me sat on the sofa across from the one Lockwood and I sat on. Holly stood behind us, her pencil poised and ready above a notepad. george sat in an armchair a little to the left of the sofa, munching on cookies.

A tray of said cookies sat on a coffee table between the two sofas, a pot of tea and a collection of cups sitting next to it.

Sarah was willowy and pale, with large blue eyes accented with too much mascara. Her blonde hair was tied neatly into a ponytail over her shoulder with a white ribbon. She had a small mouth, covered with lipstick that was a shade of fuschia that wasn't exactly her color. She wore a white button up with a blue tie. Her school blazer was gray, the school's crest stamped on the left breast. From this distance, the mascot looked somewhat like a deranged owl. Her plaid blue skirt was pressed and neat, her black school shoes shiny. Even the socks she wore were clean and spotless.

She batted her overdone eyelashes at Lockwood when he smiled, and I heard Holly make a noise of annoyance over my shoulder. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

There was silence and eyelash batting before she froze, smiling dumbly. "What?"

Lockwood's smile came again, though a bit more strained. This sort of exchange had been going on for the past five minutes. "The ghost, please tell me about it, Miss Norbury."

She batted her eyelashes again, and Holly cleared her throat, her voice light and pleasant. "Look, miss, we would like to get to our job before the sun fully sets, so please hurry this along."

Sarah blinked again, as if she hadn't done enough of that already, but nodded. "Right, yes, the ghost. It was traumatizing, so I don't like to talk about it. But I will if it helps."

"Thank you," chirped Holly, and I could hear the tinge of annoyance in her voice.

"It was a lady. She was dressed in a nightgown, and she was soaking wet. Her mouth seemed to be moving, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. But she started getting closer, so I ran back to my room."

"That's... helpful, thank you." Lockwood gave her a close-mouthed smile, and the eyelash batting returned. "Can you give us anything else?"

"That's all. You've already spoken with Millicent, yes?"

"Yes," I replied, "Millicent's recount of the event was more... detailed than yours."

"What Lucy means," Lockwood chuckled, "Was that Millicent seemed to have had a longer encounter than you."

"Well," George chimed, his mouth stuffed with cookies, "She was under the influence of Ghost Lock, so that's to be expected."

"George, chew with your mouth closed," Holly said quickly, and George swallowed his mouthful audibly. He removed his glasses, wiping the lenses on his sweater, replacing them on his chubby face.

Lockwood smiled again, folding his hands. "Yes, well, this is all we need, thank you, Miss Norbury."

Sarah stood, batting her eyelashes, her eyes not moving from Lockwood's face. As she exited, she turned back, waggling her fingers with a smile. The door shut with a click.

After waiting for a beat, Holly burst into laughter, followed by me, followed by Lockwood. George was close by.

"Her eyelashes!" I said, and Holly snorted.

"Her eyelashes? That lipstick was awful on her! Did she have something stuck in her eye? That didn't look as flirty as she wanted, that's for sure."

We had a good laugh before finally falling silent. Lockwood looked at the clock that hung on the wall above the door.

"We should be getting set up. It's almost sunset."

Once we reached the with the reports, we separated and began our investigation. From my vantage point, and I could see the communal bathroom on the other end of the corridor. Doors lined the hall, a fair few of them decorated with stickers and posters. A few had whiteboards attached to them, notes and doodles scribbled there in various colors of dry erase marker. The hall was shaped like a T, branching off from the hall I stood in, and I could see the edges of more doors. The rooms were dark and quiet, as the girls who lived here normally were spending the night in one of the other girl's dorms. I reached into my backpack; I turned the tap, the ghost attached to the skull inside the jar's, (which was, in turn, inside the backpack) droll voice filling my head.

"Oh, another case. How charming. Almost as charming as that girl who was giving Lockwood the eye."

I rolled my eyes. "Sod off. Do you sense anything?"

"Oh, nothing important. The works, psychic energy and- LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!"

I tore my rapier from my belt, whirling around, but nothing was there. I snorted. "Very funny."

Malicious laughter echoed in my head, and I rolled my eyes. "Yes, it was very funny. Glad you agree."

"I was being sarcastic," I muttered as I knelt down, pressing my fingertips to the floorboards. I got nothing. I replaced my rapier at my belt, cursing the skull mentally. I traveled a few feet forward, trying the same procedure. Again, nothing. I decided to enter the bathroom, moving this along a bit faster.

The bathroom was large and very empty. The room itself was roughly u-shaped, and I could hear the distant drip of water from somewhere, probably one of the shower stalls. The floor was concrete, clean enough, a wall of bathroom stalls across the room from me. Sinks lined another wall, my flashlight glinting off the glass.

I rounded a corner, and the area there was lined with shower stalls, their curtains were drawn back. two bathtubs were against the far walls,

"Ooh, creepy in here, isn't it?" The skull said, and I ignored it.

I tried to find the source of the dripping, but I checked every shower and none were dripping.

That wasn't the shower. I drew my sword. The visitation had begun. I knelt slowly, pressing my fingers to the tiles. I caught faint traces of sound. I raised my head, looking at the bathtub. I walked forward, placing my fingers against the side of the tub, focusing. It was like a door had been opened, sounds filling my head. Weeping, water running, dragging footsteps, gurgling, and finally, silence. I looked at the faucet of the tub.

Slowly, something dripped from it, splattering on the floor of the tub. It was ichor, obviously. It was an inky black, and more droplets joined it, splattering with decisive taps.

"Careful, Lucy. She's here."

I heard psychic static in my head, faint weeping making a soft crescendo. I turned with my sword at the ready in my hand.

Around the corner, I could see the faint glow of Oher-light. Greenish-grainy ghost fog filtered into the room, soupy and thick.

The ghost was a phantom, her features in sharp focus. She was dressed in an old-fashioned nightgown, the collar frilled. The skirt hung limply around her legs, which were as thin and pale as candles. Her feet, which were almost invisible, were bare. Her arms hung at her sides, her fingers thin and brittle looking. Her hair was black, soaking wet, hanging around her head. A clip held the bangs away from the face, which was pale and tearstained. Her lips were blue, eyes wide and staring and completely white, devoid of a pupil. Her face was painted with blue and purple abrasions, her eyes sunken and her face tinged blue. This marked her as a drowning victim.

Water dripped down her body, splattering on the floor in the form of ichor. Other-light encased her body like scarves, its glow staining the walls a ghostly green. I could hear faint sobbing, and tears ran down her expressionless face.

I realized with a shock of fear that I was trapped.

"My baby..."

The ghost's voice was hollow and breathy, its whisper crawling down my spine like tendrils. I took a deep breath to shake off the creeping fear, my grip on my rapier firm.

The ghost's form flickered, other light spilling around it. "My baby! WHERE IS MY BABY?"

Sobs echoed through the room, and my hands grasped at my belt for a salt bomb. Before I could move, the ghost looked forward, seemingly right at me.

And she charged. I screamed, jumping back and toppling into the bathtub. Shreiking sobs peeled through the air and then were drowned out by a tremendous crash. Bright green fire briefly lit up the room before dimming, and a form with a sword ran past me, following the retreating other light. I clambered out of the bathtub, the plasm that had gathered there singeing the hem of my skirt.

I ran around the corner in the direction of the ghost, only to run straight into someone's back. It was Lockwood; a salt bomb was clutched in his hand, ready to throw. He cried out in alarm when I ran into him, whirling around, sword waving. I ducked quickly to avoid getting decapitated.

"Oh," he breathed, "Luce, it's just you."

"You didn't notice me before? I fell in the bloody bathtub." I sighed, and he gave me a half smile.

"I guess I was focused on the ghost."

I made a noise of assent. "I'm glad you were, though, because you just saved my ass. I almost got ghost touched back there."

"Oh," Lockwood's smile broadened. "I guess all is well, then."

There was silence for a moment before Lockwood spoke. "There's a really bright death glow in here, not far from those bathtubs. Look around here, the source might be nearby."

I nodded, walking back into the shower room. The bathtub had begun to drip ichor again but at a quicker rate this time. I figured the source may be near the bathtubs. I crouched beside the one I'd fallen in, tugging at it with all my might. I'd seen this before, wall cavities behind heavy pieces of furniture. Perfect place to hide a body or an object.

Moving the tub was certainly easier said than done. I gave a grunt of effort, and it jolted away from the wall, the momentum causing me to fall flat on my back, my legs folded awkwardly below me. After straitening myself, I tugged again, and a scraping sound was heard.

Lockwood appeared around the corner. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Moving a bathtub. What does it look like I'm doing?" I dropped my arms, moving to the side of the tub previously facing the wall and pushed. It moved easier this time. I turned to the wall, and sure enough, there was a plank of wood nailed to the wall.

"Help me, get your crowbar," I said, tugging my own from my belt. I attached the hook to the top of the board, Lockwood doing the same. We both pulled, the flimsy plank snapping with a tremendous splintering sound. I heard psychic static again, and I glanced over my shoulder. The ghost was drifting around the corner again.

"She's coming," I said, switching on my flashlight. I heard the sound of Lockwood's rapier as it cut through the spirit.

I've said this bit before, I'll say it again. You may wanna skip this bit if you're easily icked out. Inside the cavity, which was haphazardly dug, was a woman's body. The skin, which was pale blue, was tight and shrunk against the skeleton, the teeth grinning at me morbidly. From what I could see of her lips, they were a sickly shade of bluish purple. Long, dark hair was fanned around the head in coils, stuck together in clumps like when you don't brush your hair after getting out of the shower and just let it dry. Her eyes were half open, and the actual eyeballs looked like milky marbles. Her body was covered by a white nightgown, frilled collar, her fingers limp. Half-moon indents showed on the heels of her hands.

I very much didn't want to touch it, but an agent's gotta do what an agent's gotta do. I pressed my fingertips to the hand, and a flood of sound and raw emotions coursed through my body like wildfire. Screams, gurgling, sobbing, the running of water, a man's deep laughter. I pulled my hand away fast.

"Lockwood!" I called, and the clank of metal could be heard, his breathless shout came in return. "I found the source!"

"Great! That's great, Luce, now can you contain it quickly? This one is an aggressive one."

I took a silver chain net from my belt, unfolding it. I draped it over the body, covering it from head to toe. The psychic pressure in my ears blinked out. I heard Lockwood panting in the silence.

His voice came in the darkness, a bit weary. "I need a strong cup of tea."

I smiled.

"Lilian Nettles was her name," George remarked the next morning at breakfast. "Her child got taken from her after she was proven to be an unfit mother and the child's father took custody. So she went insane. She went to the child's school, but the father was waiting for her, and he drowned her in a bathtub."

I smiled wryly, "that's charming. Really goes well with my toast."

George's glasses gleamed in the morning light. "Oh, isn't it just."

It was always nice to enjoy a morning after a successful case. I smiled at Lockwood, and he smiled back.

Another job well done.

I did it! Yay! Okay, so this will be a series. I want you guys to give me prompts and ideas for adventures you want to see the gang go on, and I'll try my best to meet your expectations. Anyway, stay tuned!

~Starry