Chapter Text
Gate finding should be considered an Olympic sport. Why do they put it so far away? Listen, it's not Juno’s fault that she ended up having to run most of the way through the airport. She had gotten a request to come up to New York state. And instead of answering random podcasters and YouTubers' requests for her to go over to Utah, and had started booking the fire flight.
No thank you!
She had kept nearly burning her feet through thin flip flops in Nevada. And who knows what kind of crazy those unemployed weirdos are. When she went to Oregon an artist, a so-called ‘creative types’ had decided to try and choke her out.
No, no, she took up this specific case because this city was a couple hour drive away from New York City. Just imagine the day trip she could have, the things she could buy, she could even maybe catch a show on broadway.
She didn’t have to worry about the strangeness this time, she was hired out by a pre-established business this time. No inheritance speak, no kidnapping, no wedding drama, no homicide. Just some seancing, maybe minor spirit resting. She wasn’t booked out very long. Next thing she knew she would be looking both ways, looking again, and then dramatically running dramatically through the streets
All she had to do was Survive Amity Park.
The taxi driver gave her a sympathetic smile when she told him where she was headed, but off they went. The roads to Amity Park started off with a thick dense forest, then the vehicle entered a worn down urban area. Elmerton according to the map Juno was following along with on her phone. Eventually the taxi went over a bridge, which then gave way to a bustling city with a welcome sign that said ‘Home of Phantom’.
Securing a motel room was suspiciously easy. Only $40 a night? A steal yes, but a strange one nonetheless. The driver helped her get her luggage out of the trunk, waved her goodbye, and then slammed the car door really hard. And just like that the car was gone in a gust of smoke.
The top floor of the town-house style building appeared to have collapsed, and the other half burnt. Directly in the middle was a front door that appeared to be squeaky clean. She tightened her grip on the suitcase and rolled it up to the door.
She cautiously opened up the door to reveal a living room converted into a lobby, lit with one old and dim boob light. Underneath the light was a tired teenager standing at a desk, staring off into space.
Juno walked up to the desk, and waited. Then, waited, and waited some more. Then she put her hand down on the bell, and then pressed it again, and slammed on it with all of her force.
Nothing.
The teenager just kept looking out into space bored. She waved her hand in front of the kids face, she then spent a couple of seconds snapping her fingers. Then she made the decision to loosen her fingers on the suitcase and shoved her hands into each of their shoulders.
Oh.
Juno’s hands felt submerged into the goopy, yet otherworldly substance of the ghost. Her fingers felt soggy and suddenly seemed as if you were dropped into the abyss, cold and black, placing her nerves into some sort of agony.
The teenager's eyes seemed to gain some more clarity and drifted their eyes onto hers. “Sorry I seem to have lost track of time.” They gently took Juno’s hands out of their shoulders, and opened up the booking ledger that sat in front of them. “Welcome to the Amity Park seven street motel. I’m Marci, you must be Ms. Noir, correct?”
Juno gave a nod and pulled out her business card. Marci bent down to grab a card reader and blew a mountain of dust off of it. Juno wiped it off her face, spit and hacked what felt like a hairball out of her mouth.
“Sorry,” apologized Marci, “most people don’t come here often. Most actually just buy a vacation home, property here is pretty cheap.” She shrugged and plugged in the machine. She took the card from Juno, and returned it when the purchase came through.
“Your room is the deluxe suit,” Marci pointed to the door to the right of her, “please, let me take your bags for you.”
“Thank you, you’re very kind.” Juno said, hoping not to annoy her. Teenagers were already easy to rage, but a ghost who she had previously had her hands dug into? Nobody wants to see what will happen next.
Marci grabbed the suitcase with no effort and hovered over to the door. She went through it and opened the door slightly. Her hand peaked out, peeked out, and curled beckonedly.
Juno went cautiously to see that there was a spiral staircase that led up three floors. Marci started rising directly up in the middle, until she reached a landing. “Sorry about the steepness.” She apologized again.
“Don’t worry about it.” Juno said awkwardly. Despite being a medium and supernatural investigator, interacting with a ghost you had no connection with was always extremely strained. She started darting up the creaky stairs. “I like a bit of a challenge. I used to be a professional baseball player.”
Eventually they made their ways up to the deluxe suit. Marci once again opened the door for her and revealed a really nice room. There was a big grand glass door leading to a balcony, a king bed that appeared to be soft and cushiony (it even had thick drapes to go around the canopy). Marci placed the suitcase next to a billowing wardrobe. She then swept over a set of cabinets and opened them to reveal a small box TV that appeared to be from the late eighties to early nineties.
“There is a wide variety of shows and movies on VHS and DVD, if you would like to watch anything. Unfortunately we are not connected to cable as of right now, nor have an internet connection.” Marci explained. (“I’ll manage,” Juno replied.) “The door over here leads to a bathroom with two sinks, a clawfoot bath and a shower. There’s a towel bin near the door, you can even put your clothes in there and I’ll wash them for you.”
Marci waved and left through the closed door. Juno started unpacking the case she brought with her. She was glad with the free laundry services because she had not found any information on the hotel website. Although now that made much sense. She had to shove her hand into the very bottom of her suitcase and wiggle her arm around, before suddenly yanking out a pitch black spiral notebook out.
This was a new notebook she had gotten from a special friend of hers in Nevada. Which was great because the past four years she had a very hard time getting information together with clients, and the environment. In the earlier days, after quitting the police force, she had mostly written notes on spare pieces of paper (notecards, newspapers, envelopes, wedding invites, napkins, and even her own hand).
She had flipped to the first page and a small postcard fell out.
Juno,
The postcard said on its back.
I hope you enjoy whatever next trip you and the company go on. The kids miss you and are excited for next spring when you’ll stop by. But they are keeping themselves preoccupied with cartoons and starting to read, with graphic novels. And, if you are wondering about me, don’t worry I just got a promotion. Less hours, more pay! Maybe this year I’ll finally get my new years resolutions done. Merry early Christmas btw, since I won’t be seeing you. :(
Make sure to use this notebook responsibility, and professionally. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, or anything you would do.
Excited to see you, Violett.
On the back of the card was a marshy bayou town. With foggy air and a big round lake in the middle.
P. S. This is where my grandparents grew up, and we’re visiting relatives.
Within the other pages of the notebook, were pictures of her godchildren, with sweet little notes on the back about stuff they’ve been doing. Although she really couldn’t believe that Violett would draw a frowny face, maybe she was finally softening up. Or maybe her kids or brother were messing with her. She stuck her hand once again back into the suitcase, and pulled out her stationary bag. In it she grabbed some paper clips and added the pictures to the front of the book. She also couldn’t wait until spring to once again coach the little league (hopefully not getting bit by a five year old this time). This job paid shockingly well enough to not having to work during an entire season. Her previous case was funding this trip to New York, and honestly she deserved it.
She prepared the items she usually needed for a home visit, and placed handfuls of clothes she had packed within the drawers, and on hangers, of the wardrobe. Finally she ran to the bathroom, gave her face a quick wash, and touched up. Then, rebrushed her hair through her fingers.
She took one last look into her suitcase, in case she had forgotten anything. And in fact she had 8 hair pins that fell out of their bag, and a pair of underwear.
Then she latched onto the slim brown box. Dusty and dirty, it had been mailed to her from the clients. She had begun to rip it open, when a suddenly rippling vibration shook through the floorboards. Billowing air had shoved her hair into her face and averted her gaze. Until the strands had left her eyes.
In front of her stood a stocky man with a thick build. He appeared to be dressed in a mailroom tech uniform. He got all up in her face and yelled, “BEWARE! I am the box ghost!! I have power over all containers; cardboard and square!”
Juno looked to the open balcony door, to the ghost, back to the balcony door, back to the ghost again, and back to th-.
“Hand over to me you or box, or face my doom!” He yelled once again.
“Why’d you take the door? You are dead? aren’t you?” Juno asked in a sudden moment of confusion.
“Well I uh-! It doesn’t matter! Because I am the bo-!!”
“And this is private property. You're just coming into a young woman’s hotel room like that??” Ok well, she was twenty-seven but, still.
He gave a shout of frustration and lunged forward grabbing the package out of her grasp. “Now I have your box! I will use whatever is in here to wreck havoc!”
Juno gave herself a face palm. She wasn’t expecting to agitate this ghost, although that always seemed to happen anytime she interacted with any ghost ever in her profession. But somehow this is worse than the time she beat a ghost at blackjack, and then he convinced a nine year old to badmouth her to the entire town. Wild, wild times.
“Hey!!” He stretched exasperated, as she yanked onto the other end of the box. It led to her being yanked up in the air. Her wiggling her feet back and forth, and him flying up higher and higher, led to a ferocious battle of tug of war.
They flung around the room bumping into several pieces of furniture, things that she had delicately placed in specific places led to scattered messes. The curtains on the bed even had been yanked off. Her phone had made a massive cracking noise.
Finally she had fallen back into the ground painfully and probably gained a big bruise. He gave a mighty and powerful laugh. Well it would’ve been if he didn’t have such a stupid voice.
“To show off how strong I’ll be after stealing this from you, I’ll be using it right now!” He declared. He delicately opened up one end of the package.
Then a pause.
And then, an, “oops.”
Suddenly in a flash of light, he was gone. The box fell onto the ground, wiggled, and fell onto its side. What rolled out of it seems to be a thermos. Or something similar?
She flung up like a diving board and scorched across the floor. While rubbing her back, yeah she would need to get some pain meds and a heating pad. She rolled it around in her hands and spotted the logo for a business called: Fenton Works.
This made sense, considering her clients; said Fenton’s, had mentioned they worked in the ghost hunting industry in the town. They must’ve sent it for her in case she needed help.
But it was really strange, why hire a paranormal investigator, (and medium) to contact a spirit?! if they hunted them down. Maybe they reserved this for ghosts like the Box Ghost? Either way when she got there she would have to ask them what to do with the device when it was used with a ghost.
She was meeting them this afternoon, at around five-thirty. She had around four hours, but getting up and surveying the room, yeah, this place needed to be clean.
“Fuck.” Looks like she wouldn’t be doing much sight seeing.
She ended up taking a quick nap real quick to stove off the jet lag, and then got to work. She focused on the most important stuff at first. Her water bottle had gotten spilled, so she wiped it up and put the first hand towel in the laundry bin. The postcard she had gotten was bent. She gave a slight frown and placed it underneath the DVD player to flatten it later. Amity Park had a similar cult following like Gettysburg, she wondered if Amity Park had any post cards she could send back. At least the kids' photos were fine on the notebook.
The curtains were a struggle, at least the balcony doors weren’t, she gave them a quick shut without a second thought. The hassle of the curtains wasn't fun, Juni had never had a canopy bed before. And without a functional phone to look up how she just had to figure it out. It looks decent. Unlike her poor phone that she had grabbed off the ground.
They had new flat phones now with not built in buttons. Everything was done on the screen now. I guess it was time for an update, but this was the first phone she had bought after her promotion to detective. She was sent to look for a rich lady's dog, turns out she was into exotic pets and it was actually an alligator. The payment was worth the bite though. But then again it wasn’t all that great.
Yeah a new phone was definitely on the agenda.
In the end she did set the room back to a familiar feeling, to when she initially entered it. Ok maybe the curtains were definitely droopy, but, at least Marci hopefully wouldn’t notice. Her inky black hair covered most of her eyes, even if she wasn’t zoned out earlier she probably would have noticed the hand waving. That is assuming she was deaf and that’s why she didn’t hear the bell first.
She located an outlet and plugged her phone in hoping it was at the very least functionable still. In case anything went south before securing a new phone, she wanted to call her associates. She could use the business card for the purchase, but it got broken during a business trip after all. It just felt disingenuous.
She collected her business info, wallet, and notebook, and threw it in her purse. She delicately held the thermos-like object to her chest and precariously went down the stairs. Stopping every so often to catch her breath, or rub her back.
She opened the door directly to Marci’s face. “Ms. Noir, are you enjoying your stay currently?” Juno nodded, and she smiled widely and awkwardly strained in response. “Great to know. Please let me know if you need anything. I'm here to make sure that everything goes smoothly while visiting our town. I’m giving a tour at the end of the week during dusk around town if you are interested.”
Juno nodded again.
“Excellent.” Marci made her way back over to the desk and continued her activity of zoning into space. It was unnerving. Was she somehow aware that something had happened in the room? Maybe she was invisible watching? Either way Juno probably didn’t want to know.
But she decided to use her hospitality. After all, she did need something after her phone broke. “Hey Marci?”
Nothing.
She went closer to the desk, “Marci?” Nothing. A ring of the bell? Nothing. Juno rolled her eyes, and tightly held the device with one hand. She waved her hand. Nothing. Snapped her fingers. Nothing. Finally she went with plan B once again, and did what worked earlier. She braced herself to place her hand back inside of Marci’s shoulder.
The submerged feeling had returned again. Goopy all around and weaving inside of the ridges of her fingers. She dug them out as soon as Marci responded. Despite the light above them her fingers seemed blacked out. She could barely even make out details.
“I’m sorry Ms. Noir. What do you need?” Marci looked at Juno apologetically.
Her finger seemed back to normal now but they felt father stiff. She gave them a tiny wiggle and replied. “I know you said you did yours later in the week. But I’m wondering if you have a map, I have to meet with a client of mine. I’m looking for Fenton Works.” Juno Explained.
For the first time it seemed like Marci had shown proper emotion. She giggled, and then she gave out a bolstering laugh. Then suddenly calmed down. She wiped to see what seemed to be tears painted in black, out of her dark brown eyes. “Sorry, sorry.”
“You won’t need a map, you’ll be able to find them.”