Just Another Day {REWRITE}

“Another prison?” Johnny Ghost asked as he pulled his hood over his head. He strapped his bag over his shoulder and looked at his partner in paranormal investigation, Johnny Toast. Toast nodded as he popped the car door, sitting in the passenger seat. Ghost gripped the steering wheel.


PIE (Or, Paranormal Investigators Extraordinaire) was on another mission, this time to an abandoned prison in the middle of a forest. They weren’t even sure who, or what, called them. As soon as they arrived, Ghost got a horrible feeling in his stomach.


“Sir… I don’t have… Any readings… I don’t…” Toast bit his lip as he hit his device to make sure it was working right. Ghost didn’t respond as he walked inside.


“Oh look, the dweebs,” a Western-ish voice called from seemingly nowhere. Ghost recognized the voice but he couldn’t place it. “And who are you…?”

Toast suddenly screamed as an invisible force slammed him against the wall. His head and back were bleeding and he fell unconscious. “JOHHNY!?” Ghost ran over and took medical supplies out of his bag, quickly and messily bandaging Toast’s wounds.

Ghost looked around for a few minutes. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary for an abandoned prison. The windows had been shattered from the inside and all the doors to the cells were perfectly intact. Everything else was being eaten away by plants or bugs. He found a light switch and tried it, two or three of the lights somehow came on, revealing Toast’s eyes being barely open.

“Johnny are you okay?!” Ghost ran to his side. “I… I think I’m okay… Sir… Just a bit of a headache but…” he looked at Ghost with horror in his eyes. “What’s wrong, Johnny?”

“Y… You…” he pulled a mirror out of his backpack and handed it to Ghost, who’s eyes widened. The right side of his face was only a skull.


Ghost just stared, stuttering. He took a deep breath and finally got the courage to speak. “L… Level thirteen… Maybe… Yeah… It’s got to be… An illusion…”

Toast gulped and bit his lip. “Yes, Sir, I’m getting level thirteen readings right now…” he lied, looking at his device. Then his eyes widened. “Actually, I… I’m getting worse readings, Sir…”


Ghost was about to say something when the Western voice boomed, “HA! The Dweebs are finally getting somewhere!”

They looked up to the roof, and there, Maxwell Acachalla was flying.

“OH THIS IDIOT AGAIN?!” Ghost placed his hands on his hips. “We’ve captured you like, what, 1750 times so far?!”

“Shut up, Dweeb. You won’t ever capture me again.”

Something invisible threw Ghost into a cell, which shut and locked. “MAXWELL, OPEN THIS DOOR RI…” Ghost fell speechless as Maxwell suddenly disappeared and Toast gasped for air. His eyes turned white.

“J… Johnny…?!” Ghost clenched his fists around the bars so tight his knuckles turned white. Toast drew a knife and walked over to Ghost, his face blank. He cut a deep gash in Ghost’s wrist then stumbled back, his head in his hands, his eyes turning back to their normal blue.

Ghost’s eyes slowly turned red and the skin slowly made his way back onto the empty part of his skull. “Heh… Blood… Blood stabbing secret stab STAB STAB!” he laughed as a black knife formed in his hand. The cell door unlocked and Casket lunged at the now normal Toast.

Toast screamed and jumped out of the way of a knife swipe. “SIR!” he yelled, taking the knife out of Casket’s hands and threw it on the ground. Casket screamed and clawed Toast’s face and Toast drew his gun, pointing it at Casket.

“S… Sir… Y… You’re like a brother to me… D… Don’t make me do this… Please… S… Sir…” he whimpered. Casket’s head twitched slightly.

Laughing came from above them. From more people than Maxwell. Toast recognized each of the voices.

Maxwell.
Amiee.
Cardboard Friend.
Toilet Toucher.


They were a team. And who did they need for a leader?

None other than the man himself, Jimmy Casket.