The Ghost returns ladies and gentlemen! I apologize profusely for being away for so long, but real life has a funny way of slugging a guy with a sack of spuds & door knobs. I am sorry that there's not much to this chapter, but I had to get it out of my head. I will hopefully have more soon, but please bear with me. I can at least show you that I am not letting this one slip away. Best Regards, The Phantom Soldier.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter 2: New Arrival

After successful extracting his keys from the pavement, receiving little help from his aging back, Stanley Litwak unlocked the doors to his arcade and stepped inside. The arcade was mostly quiet, aside from the occaisional noises coming from the demo screens of some of the games and the sound of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up emanating from the DDR console. Litwak found it slightly odd that whenever he came to the arcade on Sunday, it always seemed like that song was playing. It was as if his presence somehow triggered the song. Nevertheless, he just chalked it up to coincidence. It couldn't have been as if the arcade knew he was coming and decided to play that particular song as some sort of odd welcome, could it?

Litwak merely swept his curious thoughts to the side as he wedged the glass double doors open as he waved the delivery men to come forward with his latest purchase. The heavyset delivery men unloaded the pieces of the game console from their delivery van and began moving them on dollies into the arcade.

Strolling down the main aisle of the arcade, Litwak walked around Hero's Duty. "Right over here fellas, if you please," he said, gesturing to the spot behind the popular rail-shooter.

The first piece to come in was a large screen, not as wide as Hero's Duty, but still sizable. The cabinet of the screen was painted in a manner depicting treasures and riches, fine Persian carpets and suits of medieval armor. The border of the cabinet was host to something like a mystical fog. But interestingly enough, the fog was a mixture of two colors: one a light pink in hue and the other a menacing gray. The two were intertwined, traversing the length of the screen cabinet like a hazy frame, drawing the viewer in while giving them a feeling of slight unease, as though something was waiting within the mists, something at once benevolent and malevolent. The screen came to rest behind Hero's Duty, the backs of the two games nearly touching one another.

The next piece to come in was a bit of a curiosity. It was a counsel much like Hero's Duty's, with two plastic handguns attached to black cables sitting in metallic holsters on the counsel. But unlike Hero's Duty, the game had an angled metal plate sitting at the base of the counsel. Were someone to step onto the plate, it would press downwards until they removed their foot, at which point the plate would return to its angled position.

Lastly, a delivery man brought in the game's title box. Placing it atop the game screen and hooking the wires into the piece below it, the box glowed as brilliantly as the gaming cabinet upon which it sat. Stanley Litwak smiled as the game's name lit up proudly in exotic writing: The Genie's Quest.

Finishing the last few wire connections needed, one the delivery men stood up and gave his back a loud crack, stretching his arms in order to free up some of his mobility. "There she is Mr. Litawk," he said, swiping his hands together as though they were covered in some form of grime. "Wish ya the best of luck with this one. It wasn't real popular when it first came out, but it seems like it's gaining popularity with the nostalgia crowd."

Litwak turned to the delivery man, a trace of worry running through his eyes. "What do you mean son," he asked. "Is there something wrong with the game?" He'd found the game while perusing the rows of arcade games at the local warehouse and had gotten a very good deal on it. The popularity of Hero's Duty had shown that the shooter market was still very much alive, but it seemed as though the kids were starting to lose interest in alien bugs for target practice. This game offered more mystical enemies… that is, if the salesman was to be believed.

The delivery man scratched the back of his neck, looking between Mr. Litwak and the game screen as the game slowly set itself up. "It's the strangest thing. When the game first came out, a couple of arcades started experiencing odd things with their other games. Characters showing up with newer details and weapons, characters showing new designs, some characters missing from their games on some days…"

Litwak listened intently as the delivery man rattled on about the odd occurrences, expecially the part about characters missing. Ralph's disappearance from Fix-It Felix Jr. last year still hung in his mind, coupled with the appearance of Q*Bert and his gang in the game's bonus level not long after. Still, none of the things the delivery man mentioned seemed like they were entirely detrimental to the games, so Litwak decided to roll with his gut and let the game run its course.

"Well, thank you boys for doing this on a Sunday for me," he said, offering a warm smile to the delivery men.

"Anytime Mr. Litwak," one of them replied, handing the arcade owner a clipboard with a few forms to fill out.

After the forms had been signed and the delivery men had left, Litwak looked around his arcade, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. Thirty years had gone by and children still loved playing his games. His gaze fell on Fix-It Felix Jr., watching with a smile as Felix hopped around the apartment building fixing the gaping holes left by Ralph's massive fists. Strangely, Ralph himself wasn't present, but Litwak just figured that the wrecker had moved higher up. As he reached the doors of his arcade, he took one last look over his shoulder at Fix-It Felix Jr. Was it his imagination, or did the holes in the building seem bigger than usual?

X – X – X – X – X

Read & Review folks, if ye'd be so kind. Like I said, I'll try to have more soon.