As he fell, Andrew could hear the wind rushing against his earlobes. The sound was not necessary pleasant, but not unpleasant either. It just WAS, and was the least of his worries at that point. His hands outstretched, they slowly clenched and released, as if attempting to use oxygen as a safety net. He knew, however, that there would be no net to meet. Only thick, solid concrete. He closed his eyes for a moment, privately enjoying the coolness the air provided to the back of his neck. As he fell to his certain demise, he silently wondered how many news crews would gather to see his body. How many by-standers would be haunted by the memory of his fall? His body stiffened, preparing itself for the rough collision with the ground. He could feel the cool air that traveled with him disperse, making way for the solid object that was his body. Quietly, he exhaled, opening his eyes for one final look at the world around him. He could hear screams for a brief moment, a deafening crack, and finally the soothing sound of silence. There was an overpowering nothingness for quite some time.

Lost in the abysmal darkness of limbo, Andrew tumbled, feeling rather disconnected from his body. His bones, shattered and split, began to repair themselves as he fell. This falling wasn't quite like his previous episode, he noted. It was much more controlled and gentle, plus there was no breeze at all. Was there even oxygen here? After concentrating for a moment, he realized that he was no longer breathing, but his lungs didn't know the difference. He could hear the snap of his bones returning to their rightful places, but felt nothing, except for the cold sting of realization. He was dead, and he was going somewhere—but where? Once his body was as good as dead, Andrew began to spin uncontrollably, unable to focus on a still point. Traveling from one world to another seemed to involve a lot of spinning, as if some God had flung his lanky body across time and space, like a frisbee. He was NOT a frisbee. Perhaps he would be, though, if reincarnation proved to be the next step for him. With each spin, he could feel a little more within his body. He felt the rush of his blood, the dizziness his brain provided, and the gut-wrenching wish to vomit from his stomach. Still, no heartbeat. His fingers tingled, as if they had touched an ice-cold surface, desperately attempting to alert him to something new. In his dizzy stupor, Andrew dismissed it as a side-effect from dizziness. What his fingers knew but could not admit was the addition of his new fate. But for now, the secret would have to stay within his chilled digits. Jolted to a stop, Andrew closed his eyes and doubled over, finding his feet on solid ground once again. As he straightened his posture, he found himself in an office, which buzzed with ringing phones and chattering employees. "Hyllooo, ovah heeere." A woman's voice called from a desk a few feet away, thick with an unrecognizably foreign accent. Andrew walked slowly towards the stranger, resting his hands on the desktop as he stared at the woman. "Whuut? Iz there somethin' on mhy fayce?" She asked, her hand reaching up and motioning to the area in question. Blinking, Andrew just shook his head, trying to pull his attention away from the woman.

He hadn't lied—there wasn't anything on her face. In fact, there was only half of a face left. The other half had very obviously been chewed off by some sort of beast. There were bite marks galore, but apparently, the woman didn't notice. "Naayme!" The woman yelled out, raising the only eyebrow she had left.

"Andrew Wal—" He began, but was silenced with a firm wave.

"Yeah, yeah, we awwl know who yew are. Siddown." She huffed, motioning to a chair in the corner of the office.

Confused, the recently-departed sat politely, crossing one of his legs over the other. As he stared down at them, he marveled at the reconstruction of his body. Clearly, it didn't happen for everyone in this place, as noted with the foreign secretary. Why was he so lucky? Was it because his death was an accident? While he worked out reasons in his head, a tall man exited a door in the corner, a clipboard in hand. "Andrew?" He called around, focusing on the young man in the corner. "Come with me." He said with a huff, beckoning the new spirit forward with a finger. Dragging his feet, Andrew followed him back into the room, hidden behind a closed door. He blinked as he entered, expecting something extraordinary. Instead, he found three chairs and a desk, trapped within a tiny room with no windows. The two men sat across from each other, the older one rummaging through drawers. "So, enjoying yourself so far?" He asked, though it was apparent that he didn't really care either way. Before his guest could answer, the man pulled out a file. It was labeled 'ANDREW WALKER,' and appeared to be quite tattered and worn. "There has been a lot of discussion about your case." The man grumbled, scratching his neck with a shrug.

"My...case?" Andrew asked, folding his hands in his lap uncharacteristically.

"Yeah, your case. Don't worry, you'll learn all the regulations and terms soon enough. For now, we'll review your death. Lets see..." The man flipped through a few pages, stopping on one with a picture of the teenager's mangled body. "Here we are. Andrew Walker, dead on his fifteenth birthday. According to my report, you were on the roof, trying to chase down a piece of paper. Really? A paper?" The man snorted, looking at the young man with an irritated glance.

"It was important. A gift from a friend." Andrew muttered in defense, his grip on his own hands tightening nervously. "I never got a chance to read it, it blew away before I could even—"

Clearing his throat loudly, the elder spirit closed the case file and stood, motioning for the boy to follow him. "We'll talk about it later. We don't have time to sit and flap our lips. We need to get you into training."

"Training?" Andrew followed at the quickest pace he could, terrified of being left behind.

"Yes. You're our newest Ghost Master." The man chuckled, leading them down a long hall, which grew darker and colder as they went. At the end of the hall, a large door was visible, marked with foreign symbols and words. "I'll be accompanying you for a short while, but only for a part of your training. The rest, you will have to accomplish on your own." The man, dressed in a sharp suit, adjusted his tie, opening the door once they reached the end. On the other side was a spinning vortex, which glowed an appealing shade of light blue. "Well, go on!" The man motioned to the vortex, giving the new Ghost Master a shove towards it. Though he hesitated, Andrew reasoned that he was already dead; not much else could go wrong, right? With a shaky breath, he stretched his legs and jumped, once again becoming lost in an uncontrollable tumble.

Once solid ground was met once more, Andrew found himself sprawled out on the floor. His new counterpart landed beside him gracefully, looking down at the soon-to-be Ghost Master. "Having a nap, are we?" He taunted, walking forward casually. "Hurry up, I have no intention of staying with you for eternity!" The unidentified spirit in a suit called back, pleased as the recently-departed scrambled back to his side. As they walked down a new hallway that resembled an abandoned hospital, the man scratched his head. "Oh right, we need to get your body prepped. Mnn, no, we'll train you a bit first." He mused quietly, scratching at his chin. "This room." He pointed, easing open a door that was labeled "Fetter Room."

As the door swung open, Andrew was surprised to see that there were no books, teachers, or explanations of any sort inside. Only a few objects were scattered around: a fishtank, a gun, a mirror, a plant, and a piano. Confused, he looked back at his current counterpart, silently requesting an explanation. With a sigh, the unnamed spirit flipped through the pages on his clipboard, searching for a page in particular. "As a Ghost Master, you will control other spirits in effort to appease the Haunter Committee. You will have the ability to bind spirits to the mortal realm, but not every place. Each spirit has one or two fetters it can be bound to, depending on their death." When his pupil still looked confused, the elder continued speaking. "Look around the room. For this, I'll give you an example. Say you summoned a water sprite. Which object would you be able to bind it to?"

"The...fishtank?" Andrew asked unsurely.

"Yes. Out of these objects, the fishtank would be the only object you could bind it to. If you were in the mortal plane, you could bind it to any body of water. A puddle, a lake, a sink, a bathtub, a toilet." The man scratched his neck uncomfortably, shifting his weight to his other foot. "There are a variety of fetters. Fire, water, electricity, emotional, murder, outside, inside, thoroughfare, mirrors, children, and violence."

"So for emotional and thoroughfare—?" The Ghost Master began, but was cut off.

"Emotional fetters can be anything that a mortal has bestowed such feelings toward. For instance, this piano holds an emotional fetter. Thoroughfare relates to areas of passage. Hallways, porches, doorways—anything like that. While at work, just focus on an object, and you'll sense its fetter. Some objects may have more than one fetter, like the gun for instance. It holds an emotional and murder fetter. Keep in mind that some objects don't have fetters at all, so you'll have to remain crafty with your summoned spirits." He explained, tucking his clipboard under his arm. He turned swiftly, exiting the room with his newest trainee.

"So, do you have a name?" Andrew asked as he tagged along, eagerly hoping for an opportunity to connect with the other spirit, as he felt he had no one left to connect with. Pausing for a moment, the spirit listened, then kept walking. He continued speaking, ignoring the trainee's question.

"As a Ghost Master, you will be instructed to carry out certain tasks by the Haunter Committee. While the bulk of your duties will consist of haunting mortals, you may be asked to do other things. Increasing belief in the supernatural, avenging deaths, and freeing trapped spirits are not beneath your tasks. As a Ghost Master, however, you will be unable to directly interfere in the world of mortals. You shall be given the ability to summon other spirits to do so. When you are not haunting, you are responsible for training your 'team,' which includes awarding them new powers." The nameless spirit coughed, scratching at his neck for what appeared to be the tenth time.

"Powers? So they can do things, then?" Andrew chimed in, trying to get a firm grasp on the understanding of his new position.

"Yes, you see, each of us have certain abilities. The spirits you will work with will have a variety of powers relating to their fetter. Water sprites can summon rain, wind, thunderstorms, and so on. You will have to talk to your team about their abilities to find out more. It's different for everyone." He continued to explain as he walked, readjusting his tie once again.

"Well, you said something about giving them new powers. How am I supposed to do that? I don't even know what my own powers are." Andrew sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head, uneasy when he considered how much he didn't know.

With an agitated sigh, his mentor flipped through the pages of his clipboard again, skimming for information. "Plasm. Plasm is a limiting factor which dictates which abilities a ghost can use. As a human becomes frightened, plasm is generated. With more plasm, stronger abilities and more spirits can be summoned at one time. When you are finished with an objective, you will have the opportunity to train your team, using collected plasm. Not all plasm collected will be used for such purposes, but you will be permitted to keep a portion of it. With this plasm, you will be able to thoroughly train your team, allowing them to use stronger abilities." He stopped reading and looked over his shoulder at the young spirit. Though Andrew looked as though he was beginning to understand, the man stopped again. "You should know about restless spirits too, before I forget." He skimmed through the various pages of information once again, sucking at his lower lip as he browsed. "Ah, here we go. Restless spirits. Many areas you will be instructed to haunt contain spirits who are bound to a particular fetter or location. Each restless spirit has a unique way to be 'laid to rest,' and by completing this task, the ghost will permanently join the Ghost Master's team. This spirit will then be available for summoning during hauntings." He flattened out his clipboard again and tilted his head. "Just speak to a restless spirit; they usually know how to get free, they just need a helping hand...or hand-equivalent."

Andrew, who wished he had taken notes at this point, only nodded. Never had he thought that he would be put into such a responsible position, even when he was alive! His head spun as he tried to remember all of the information given to him, and felt his head bob forward. "Anything else?" He mumbled quietly, afraid of what his mentor would say next.

"Just a few warnings and terms." The older spirit assured him as they walked the hallways, which seemed endless. "There are certain mortals that may be a threat to your team. They will be unable to harm you, but summoned spirits may be banished. Keep a look-out for witches, mediums, and priests. They may sound like silly mortals, but they have the ability to temporarily banish your team members from an area. There are ways to stop them, however, but you'll have to figure that out on your own." The unnamed fidgeted, slowing as he approached a door at the end of the long hallway. "There are twenty three different types of spirits, which can be separated into 6 different classifications. Sprites, Disturbances, Elementals, Vapors, Frighteners, and Horrors. Once you get into working a little more, you can work on determining all 23 different types of haunts. Or, you could always just ask your team. This is where you cross the threshold into your new fate as a Ghost Master." He motioned to the door, and took a step back from it. "Only you can pass at this point. Oh! And before I forget, this letter is addressed to you." The spirit pulled an envelope from his suit, then handed it to the newest Ghost Master. "By the way, it's Maugrim. My name, that is. Your mortal name won't apply anymore, from now on, you'll be known as 'Ghost Master.' I'm sure the Haunter Committee will give you a district, though." For the first time, the spirit smiled and nodded his head. "Well, good luck. Don't fuck things up, hmm? We have spirits counting on you, Ghost Master." With a wave, Maugrim walked into a wall, his body easing through, then disappearing.

Andrew was alone. Nervously, his hand outstretched towards the door, trembling as it took the handle. Was he ready for what he was about to encounter? Would it matter? He looked at the envelope in his other hand and nodded slightly, opening the door slowly. He took a step in, and found himself surrounded by darkness. A light flickered on and revealed a machine which looked suspiciously similar to a metal detector. "Ghost Master, huh? Mmn, I never could resist a spirit in uniform!" A woman's voice called out from across the dimly-lit room. As Andrew looked around, he stared at a human-sized rabbit, which appeared more human than animal. "What? You act like you've never seen a Pooka before! But with all these labels, I'm called a Trickster these days." She reached a well-defined hand up and stroked at her ear, sitting comfortably on a desk in the corner. "What's wrong, sugar? You don't like my look? Well, then, suppose a change is necessary." She stared at the newest Ghost Master for a moment, then shuddered, her body shifting into a new form. She mimicked Andrew's appearance perfectly, down to his voice and movements. "I'd marvel at this look while you can, Ghost Master. Where you're going, you aren't going to have legs or a body." The self-identified pooka ran its fingers across its new body, poking at the skin. "So, stand in the identifier!" She pointed to the metal-detector and smirked, tilting her head to the right.

Though reluctant, Andrew slowly stepped towards the machine, settling into a nervous stance within it. Lights flickered on the sides of the machine as it hummed with life, shaking with power as it began to activate. A powerful surge of electricity sped through his body, paralyzing him for the best work possible. The feeling of having one's soul ripped from a body was quite unpleasant, to say the least. Had Andrew had the ability to speak at this point, he would have compared it to having every nail brutally ripped from his fingers and toes, his eyeballs being gouged out, and his flesh being scraped from his bones. He would have screamed, but he no longer had a connection with his body, which included his vocal chords. After what felt like an eternity, the machine rumbled to a stop, falling silent and letting the Ghost Master go free. Andrew attempted to take a step forward, but found that he no longer had legs. He looked down at himself, but saw nothing, save for a glowing aura. The pooka on the desk laughed and clapped her hands, tucking herself into a comfortable ball. "Well, don't you look handsome!" She teased, looking down at the body she continued to mimic. "Well, you did, anyway. Now, go through that door. You will be transferred to the mortal realm, where you will have the ability to read the letter you were given. And don't worry, you'll see your body again. When you have to come back to this area, you'll be returned to your human form—just not as painfully. Toodles!" She called as she opened the door for the disembodied Ghost Master. Having no choice in the matter, Andrew drifted forward, exiting the only way he knew how. As he 'stepped' out, he could feel his non-body slip forward, disappearing in a rush of nothingness. He was falling, AGAIN. Damn it.

Landing was a little more comfortable this time, but the Ghost Master assumed it was because he had no legs to trip over. The envelope Maugrim had given him drifted down once he landed, halting in the air before him. As Andrew reached towards it, the envelope opened on its own, the letter unfolding itself neatly. Squinting, the newest recruit read through the letter.

Ghost Master,

It has come to the attention of the Haunter Committee that the citizens of Gravenville are

slipping into disbelief of the spirit world. The time has come for action to be taken, and swiftly at that. We are short on experienced Ghost Masters and so we are sending you in, but not unarmed. We are providing you with a training manual. In it you will find all the information you need to be successful, including an instruction manual, a list of the haunts available to you, as well as their powers and a brief description of each. We have also provided some of our most powerful spirits to assist you on your tasks. Take them or leave them. It's your decision. Remember the basic rules of haunting. You cannot kill or take control of a mortal. You can only

hope to terrorize, drive mad and influence them to do your bidding. You will find restless spirits in each mission. Listen to their problem and find a way to lay them to rest. When you do, they will become available to you for future haunts. If you are unsuccessful in your mission, or leave a restless soul behind, use the time gate to revisit the haunt. Remember, no good Ghost Master leaves a trapped spirit behind.

Good luck Ghost Master,

The Haunter Committee

With a comforted sigh, Andrew re-read the letter a few times, then nodded. As he looked out over the hill he had been transported to, he examined several areas with glowing auras. He immediately knew that these would be his first few missions as a Ghost Master. Much like the letter, a small handbook floated down from the sky, landing before him gently. He took it into his non-arms and nodded, a light smirk playing over his non-lips. As Maugrim had said, there were spirits who needed him—and no good Ghost Master would leave them behind.