The Simulacrum

Red Lake Elementary was, in many ways, a rather unremarkable educational institution. The building itself followed the standard, modern architectural trends of the region: clean lines, large windows to maximise natural light, and a practical layout designed to handle the daily flow of energetic children. The floors were polished linoleum, scuffed by countless shoes but kept immaculately clean by the unseen janitorial staff. The air inside was cool and carried the faint, ever-present scent of chalk dust, floor wax, and the lingering aroma of floral air fresheners.

It was a place of mundane routine. But in the encroaching twilight, with long shadows stretching like grasping fingers across the empty hallways, the school had transformed into a place of liminal eeriness. The windows, usually friendly portals to the playground outside, now reflected the gloom of the dark sky, turning them into dark, opaque mirrors. The cheerful children's drawings taped to the walls seemed to leer, their bright colours muted in the stark white light of the flash-lights.

Every footstep echoed with an unnerving clarity, each scrape of a shoe against the floor deafeningly loud in the profound silence. The building itself seemed to hold its breath, creaking and groaning as it settled for the night, the sounds distorted into phantom whispers by the children's overactive imaginations.

"Look, Judy! Paper cranes!"

"Hush," the dark-haired high schooler chided her blonde companion with a finger in front of her lips. "You're ruining the atmosphere."

"But... they're cute..." Eleanor whispered, her gaze still fixed on a small display of colourful origami birds hanging from the ceiling in the hallway intersection. They fluttered gently in the minuscule draft of their passing, their paper wings catching the flash-light beams like the scales of some fantastical fish. "Mom taught me how to make them when I was little, but they never turn out right."

"Really? Then let's add origami practice to the group date pool," Judy replied in a deadpan voice that made it hard to tell if she was serious. "For now, focus. The children are supposed to be the protagonists here."

"Right, right." Eleanor nodded and tried to look serious, which only made her look more like a playful puppy trying to mimic a guard dog.

Meanwhile, the group of six kids walking a few steps ahead of their chaperones came to a halt near an intersection of hallways past the shoe racks. Ichiko, at the head of their little column, pointed at the stairwell leading up with the beam of her flash-light.

"Let's go to the girls' restroom on the second floor first, and catch Hannah-san!"

"But... what do I do while you're catching the ghost?" Éolienne asked, tilting his head. Fiia found herself unconsciously edging a little closer to him, his small presence a surprisingly effective anchor against the oppressive gloom.

"Don't worry, Ollie-kun," Ichiko declared with the confidence of a seasoned general. "We will split into pairs! Xiao-chan and I will find Hannah-san in the bathroom, while Ollie-kun and Fia-chan can check out the biology classroom!"

"I-In that case," Pais spoke up, raising a hand into the air. "We can investigate the strange stairs. They are near the nurse's office, right?"

"We know the way," Kóre added with a decisive nod, but she too was shivering, and the beam of her flash-light trembled.

Fiia didn't like this one bit. There was safety in numbers, and breaking up into smaller groups was just asking for trouble. She had the sudden, overwhelming urge to object, to insist they all stick together, but her throat felt tight, and the words wouldn't come. She just stood there, clutching her flash-light, the cold plastic a poor comfort against the clamminess of her palms.

"Excellent! Operation Split-Up is a go!" Ichiko cheered, completely misreading the mood.

"Is this a good idea?" Eleanor whispered in the back, but Judy only shrugged her shoulders.

"It should be fine."

As Éolienne had spoiled, Judy already had her Celestial collaborators thoroughly investigate the building and all of its supposed mysteries, and had long since concluded that there were no actual threats to be found. Not to mention, although they were all acting like completely mundane children in front of each other, Judy didn't think they could find anything more dangerous on the premises than the six kids in question.

Of course, since Fiia was hiding her origins from them, and they consequently also hid their own abilities from her, it resulted in an odd feedback loop where nobody dared to reveal their full capabilities. Nevertheless, Judy trusted that if there was any actual danger, they wouldn't have hesitated to act.

"Listen up," she called out to get everyone's attention. "I'll go with Pais and Kóre. Elly, you go with Ichiko and Xiao."

"W-What about us?" Fiia asked, suddenly feeling incredibly conflicted. On one hand, she was immensely relieved that the two scary older girls wouldn't be staring down her back any longer, but on the other hand, she was now left alone with Éolienne in the spooky school.

"You two will be fine," Judy said with an easy wave of her hand.

"Are you sure that is a good idea?" Eleanor whispered again, echoing her earlier sentiment, so the other girl pulled her aside.

"We need to give them some space, otherwise we aren't going to see any developments."

"Development?" the blonde girl repeated after her and glanced over her shoulder at the kids. "Do you think Ollie and Fiia are like that?"

"Statistically speaking, the late-arriving outside-context girl shaking up the group dynamics is most likely to be the main heroine."

"Oooh? Like I was?" she inquired, and when Judy didn't respond right away, she animatedly (if still quietly) explained, "You know? How I transferred to school last year, and that's why I'm the main heroine."

"For Joshua's scenario, certainly, but for the Chief, I was the first one."

"Right. And that's why we're both main heroines. Gotcha!" Eleanor declared with a toothy grin, and the other girl could only roll her eyes a little, with an expression that said, 'You're too easygoing, but I just can't get mad at you.'

However, their hushed interaction was drowned out by the casual chatter of the kids, so from Fiia's perspective, they were clearly and obviously scheming something truly nefarious, and her mind began to run wild. Just what could they be plotting?

Her hands were sweaty, and she had to wipe her palms on her skirt, her grip on the flash-light feeling slick and treacherous. She risked a glance at Éolienne, unconsciously looking for a source of comfort, and he seemed completely at ease, a small, curious smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, Fiia?"

"Y-Yes?!" she blurted out a bit too loudly when the boy startled her, and she nearly dropped her light. He didn't seem to mind and only pointed down the hallway.

"Should we go directly to the biology classroom, or go the long way and check out the principal's statue in the courtyard first? We should see it from the windows, right?"

"Ah... um..." The question was a simple one, yet Fiia's mind went completely blank. The biology classroom was at the other end of the building, and the central courtyard was on the way there, so the choice was obvious. And yet, she felt a heavy weight on her shoulders, as if her answer had to be perfect.

"Let's go to the courtyard," she finally settled on, feeling a flush of shame for how long it took her to answer.

"Okie-dokie!" Éolienne turned to the older girls and waved over his head with unbridled enthusiasm. "Big Sis Judy! Auntie Elly! We're going ahead!"

"Be careful, and don't get into any trouble!" Eleanor called back, while Judy simply gave them a wave, her attention on the Celestial kids.

Suddenly, Fiia felt a hand on her own, and before she could react, Éolienne had already grabbed onto her, a bright smile on his face. "Let's go!"

He didn't wait for a response and started leading the way, her hand held firmly in his. Flustered, she tried her best to point their flash-light in the right direction, but the beam kept wavering, a nervous flutter. His hand was warm in hers, a stark contrast to the cold air, and the simple, innocent contact felt strangely significant.

"Isn't this exciting?" Éolienne asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Y-Yes! V-V-Very!" she stammered, her cheeks feeling hot.

They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps the only sound in the empty corridor. The light beam danced across the walls, illuminating faded posters and the occasional lost piece of classroom art. Fiia's mind was a jumble of confused thoughts. She logically knew that there shouldn't have been anything dangerous lurking in the dimness of the hallways, but the fear of the dark was deeply ingrained in the human psyche, and at the end of the day, Magi were still humans.

Éolienne didn't seem afraid though, which made her wonder. He was an Abyssal, so did that mean he wasn't 'human'? It sounded logical, but also felt subtly wrong to her. On the other hand, the young boy was wholly unaware of her internal wrestling with categorisation and pulled her towards the back of the building.

"Aw. The door's locked," he muttered when they reached the doors leading to the backyard, and in retrospect, that much should've been obvious. "Let's check the window. We should see the statue from over there."

"Y-Yeah. L-Let's do that," Fiia managed to agree, her grip on the flash-light tightening. It was only when they reached the window in question, and Éolienne pushed his face against the glass to get a better look, that Fiia found her courage to ask something on her mind. "É-Éolienne?"

"Hm?" The boy looked over and lightly cocked his head to the side, his bright blue eyes blinking at her. "What is it, Fiia?"

"A-Are you... not scared?" The question came out in a whisper, a fragile thing in the vast emptiness of the school. "Of the dark, I mean."

He looked left, then right, and then puffed up his chest and declared, "No, I'm not! I'm not scared easily!" He paused, then seemed to reconsider. "Except for big bugs. Big bugs are scary."

"They are," Fiia agreed on autopilot, and their simple exchange felt like it popped a bubble of tension in the air.

"But there aren't any big bugs here, so it should be fine," he declared, though he sounded a bit less self-assured than before. "At least, I think there aren't any." He shook his head, as if to physically dislodge the thought of giant insects from his mind, and then turned back to the window. "Point the flash-light that way. The statue should be somewhere over there."

Fiia did as she was told, and the beam cut through the night of the school's backyard. It was a simple lawn with a few flowerbeds, now barren for the coming winter, and a small path winding through it. In the centre of the lawn stood a statue, a life-sized replica of the school's founder, a stern-looking man with a well-groomed moustache and a kindly smile, cast from bronze turned green by the passing years.

He stood with one hand on his hip and the other outstretched, as if offering a welcoming handshake to the unseen visitors of the school.

"Did it move?" Fiia asked, her eyes squinting to take a better look.

"I don't know. I never looked at it closely, so I don't know what it usually looks like," Éolienne admitted, pressing his face to the glass again. "But if it was a mystery, I think it would take a funny pose."

"Funny?"

"Yes! For example, one hand pointing up. Like he's disco dancing. You know? Like in that movie?"

"Or maybe standing on one leg? Like a ballerina?" Fiia offered, a small smile on the edges of her lips.

"Yeah, like that!" he agreed, and the two of them stood there for a while, just staring at the statue.

"It doesn't look funny."

"No, it doesn't," Éolienne agreed. "Maybe he's just shy. Let's take another look on the way back!" he proposed, and Fiia nodded.

They continued on their way, and as they walked, Fiia found herself growing more at ease. She was still holding hands with Éolienne, and the simple contact was a comfort that made her feel less fretful. The school was still scary, but with Éolienne by her side, it was a little less so.

She was feeling almost cosy, until the moment of peace was shattered by a shuffling sound coming from up ahead.

"D-Did you hear that?" Fiia whispered, and the boy at her side repeatedly nodded.

"Yes! Do you think it's the dummy? Xiao said it walks the hallways." He sounded more excited than scared, which only made Fiia more nervous. The boy pointed their shared flashlight down the corridor, but there was nothing out of the ordinary at a glance.

"Do you see anything?" Fiia whispered as she huddled closer to him.

Éolienne shook his head, and the two of them carefully inched towards the biology classroom, but it wasn't until they reached the door that they discovered something unusual.

"The door's not closed," the boy noted as he pointed to their left.

Just like Blue Cherry High, Red Lake Elementary was also using the classic Japanese-style sliding doors common in such school settings, and despite all the other doors being shut tight, this one was slightly ajar. A narrow slit of darkness peeked out at them, and the boy took a hesitant step forward.

"Let's check it out." He was whispering now, too, and the two of them glanced at each other before Éolienne carefully pushed the door further open with the tip of his foot.

The narrow beam of the flash-light sliced through the gloom, revealing a typical science classroom. Cabinets with glass doors lined one wall, filled with jars of formaldehyde-preserved specimens: a frog splayed for dissection, a snake coiled in its cloudy tomb, the intricate branching of a pig's lungs. The walls were covered in informative posters of cells and organs, the colourful diagrams rendered unnerving in the stark light. The air inside was stale and carried the distinct, antiseptic smell of preservatives and old paper.

Nothing moved in the dark, so they inched forward, looking for the familiar anatomy model: a full-body human figure with removable organs, the kind of thing that both fascinated and repulsed children. The students at Red Lake Elementary nicknamed it 'Gutsy', and it was usually kept in the corner of the classroom, next to the teacher's desk.

Fiia audibly gulped as she slowly turned the light towards that corner, the beam gradually inching closer to the vague silhouette until...

"Ah. It's here," Éolienne stated with a mixture of relief and maybe just a hint of disappointment. The model was standing motionless in the corner, its plastic skin looking eerily pale in the dim light. It was posed in a neutral stance, arms at its sides, and its painted-on eyes stared blankly into the darkness.

"It's... not moving," Fiia said, her voice a shaky whisper.

"Maybe it's shy too," the boy at her side suggested, and the Magi girl couldn't help but stifle a giggle. "Let's take a closer look." He led the way, and she followed, her steps hesitant.

The classroom was silent and still, and as the children walked in, they left the sliding door partially open. Or so they thought.

"Kyaaah!"

It happened all too quickly. As soon as they entered the classroom and Éolienne let go of the edge of the door, it started to move, and then there was a metallic clang followed by the impossibly loud bang of it being slammed shut behind them.

The two of them froze in place, and Fiia's flash-light flew from her hands in her fright. The beam spun wildly, casting a chaotic dance of light and shadow across the walls, the jars of preserved specimens looking like monstrous silhouettes in the fleeting illumination, but then Éolienne lunged at it and managed to snatch it out of the air before it hit the ground.

"W-What happened?" Fiia whispered, her whole body trembling as she held onto the boy's sleeve.

"I... I don't know," he answered, his voice shaking as well.

They shuffled back to the door, and the boy grabbed the handle, but no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn't budge. It took them several minutes of wrestling with the door before they finally discovered the culprit.

"Look. Up there." Fiia pointed at the top of the door frame. "I think it's an auto-closing mechanism. The door must've been open because it was broken, and when we pushed it, the spring, or something inside it, must've snapped it shut."

"Oh," Éolienne uttered, then let out a sigh of relief. "So it wasn't a ghost."

"No, but... we're still stuck here."

They tried again, but the door wouldn't move, and after a few more fruitless attempts, they had to face the facts.

"What should we do?" Fiia asked, her earlier vague fear replaced by a growing sense of reasonable unease. They were trapped. In a dark classroom. Just the two of them.

"I'll call big sis," Ollie proposed at once, and he pulled a small smartphone from his pocket. The screen lit up, casting a pale, ethereal glow on his face. He tapped the screen a few times, but then frowned. "I can't get a signal."

"What? But..." Fiia pulled out her own phone, but it was the same.

Unbeknownst to them, the network of Critias's largest and only phone service provider just happened to have their yearly mandatory system maintenance scheduled for this exact evening, an entirely routine procedure that wouldn't have even registered as a footnote in the daily news. To the two children, however, it felt like an act of cosmic sabotage, a deliberate attempt to strand them in this liminal space between the mundane and the macabre. The classroom suddenly felt a whole lot bigger, and the shadows a whole lot darker.

"C-Can you send a text message?"

"No, I don't think that works either..." he tried to send a quick 'stuck in bio classroom, halp' to Judy, but the little loading icon on the screen circled endlessly, a tiny, spinning wheel of hopelessness. He tried a couple more times, to no avail. The silence of the classroom pressed in on them, broken only by the frantic tapping of Ollie's thumb on the screen and Fiia's shallow breaths.

"Ah, don't worry!" The boy flashed a smile at the fretful girl. "They knew we were coming this way, so I'm sure big sis and auntie will come looking for us." He paused, then looked around the darkened classroom. "Let's sit down while we wait." He led her to the first row of desks, and they sat, the cold, hard plastic a jarring sensation.

They waited there for a while, not saying anything, the only light the single, wavering beam of the flash-light resting on a desk between them. Fiia hugged her knees, her gaze fixed on the unmoving door. Her mind was racing, conjuring images of the 'roaming' anatomy model coming to life, its hollow eye sockets fixing on them, its plastic joints creaking as it shuffled closer.

"Hey, Fiia..."

She flinched at the sudden sound of his voice. "Y-Yes?"

"You know... I wasn't very honest with you..."

"A-About what?"

Éolienne sucked in another breath and then sheepishly admitted, "I'm... also a little afraid in the dark." The admission was so quiet, Fiia almost missed it.

"Y-Yeah. Me too. Still." She responded, not even thinking her words through. "But... I'm not that afraid, because I'm not alone."

"U... Umm... S-Same here," Ollie agreed, and the two of them shuffled a little closer to each other. There wasn't any deeper meaning behind their actions, only the simple, instinctual need for a bit more warmth and comfort in the overwhelming darkness.

They continued to wait in the classroom as seconds ticked into minutes, and unable to cope with the silence, Fiia wracked her brain to find something to talk about.

"Hey, Ollie?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Do you think... any of the mysteries of the school are true?"

"I... don't know," he admitted, and picked up the light again. "The only sure thing is that Gutsy didn't move an inch since we—"

His words came to an abrupt halt when he pointed the light at the corner of the room, only to find it completely and utterly empty. Fiia followed the beam of light, her heart leaping into her throat as the stark realisation dawned on her. The anatomical model, 'Gutsy', was gone.

"Wh-Where did it go?" she choked out, her voice a trembling thread of sound.

"I-I don't know!"

He jumped up from his seat, so suddenly that the chair scraped against the floor with a shriek that made Fiia flinch. He frantically panned the flash-light all across the place until it landed on the familiar dummy, now standing in the opposite corner of the classroom. Frightened by this new development, the children practically climbed over the desk and threw themselves into the far corner, their backs to the wall.

"Did... Did you see it move?" Fiia asked, her eyes wide with terror.

"No, I didn't," Ollie answered, his own voice unsteady. He gripped the flash-light with white-knuckled intensity, the beam trembling as it illuminated the unmoving dummy. "Maybe we just... didn't see it properly?"

"No, it was there! I swear, it used to be over there!" Fiia yelped while wildly gesturing at the empty corner near the teacher's desk.

"What do we do? What do we do!?" Fiia mumbled, more frantic by the second.

Of course, if they were rational in this moment, they would've easily recognised that between the two of them, they had altogether too many ways to solve their predicament. Fiia might not have been an outstanding Magi, but conjuring a light or casting a spell to unjam the door was by no means beyond her capabilities. Similarly, as an Abyssal of an aristocratic lineage, however young, Ollie had little to fear from an animated dummy.

But they were just children, and after being used to hiding their identities, both in public and in their own little group, the thought of breaking their masquerade didn't even cross their minds. They were too busy being scared.

"I'm a big boy. I shouldn't be scared. Uncle Polemos always says that..." Ollie's whispered self-suggestion came to a sudden halt, and he hurriedly handed the flash-light over to Fiia. "H-Hold this! I've got an idea!"

"W-W-What idea?" Instead of answering, he took out his phone again, the pale blue light not helping the eerie atmosphere, and quickly tapped on the screen. "What is it?"

"Uncle put this on my phone!" Éolienne exclaimed as he turned the screen towards her. "He said I should press it if it's an emergency, and... um..." He hesitated, his eyes wide and unsure. "Is this... an emergency?"

"Yes, it's—! Ah, what was that?" There was a shuffling sound coming from their left, and Fiia reflexively turned the flashlight that way.

"N-No! Don't take the light off Gutsy!" Éolienne yelped and reached out towards the flash-light. Their hands bumped into each other, and the device slipped Fiia's fingers, falling to the ground next to them.

The small shock dislodged the batteries, and the light began to flicker, casting frantic, strobing shadows that danced like grotesque puppets across the walls. The cabinets of specimens seemed to pulse with a sickly rhythm, the preserved frog and snake appearing to contort in the intermittent flashes. And there was something else, too. In Fiia's mind, she could see a shambling figure between the desks. There was a groan, or was it just her ears playing tricks on her? Was that a glint of sharp fangs in the darkness, or just a stray reflection?

"Emergency! It's an emergency! Press it! Pressitpressitpressitpressitpressitpress—!"

"I-I'm pressing it! I'm already pressing it!" Éolienne cried out, hugging the phone to his chest.

And then, all of a sudden, the light sputtered once, twice, and then died, plunging them into darkness.

"Kyaaah!"/"Waaaah!"

The two kids cried out together, hugging in the corner, only illuminated by the small screen of the boy's phone. Nothing moved. There was no sound. But even so, the room now felt a thousand times more menacing than before. The darkness was a heavy, suffocating blanket, and every creak and groan of the old school building was a monster stirring in its sleep. Fiia squeezed her eyes shut, her heart hammering against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the deafening silence. And then, after several seconds of mind-numbing terror... a soft click.

"Seriously. What the heck is going on here?"

The kids' eyes opened wide at the sound of a new voice, only to immediately close again from the searing light. In truth, it wasn't that bright, since the fluorescent ceiling lamps of the school weren't exactly floodlights, but to their darkness-adjusted eyes, the sudden brightness was still a shock. Éolienne's vision adapted to it first, and when it did, he jumped to his feet and pulled the confused girl along with him.

"Uncle Polemooos!"

Before Leonard S. Dunning could respond, the kid had already dashed across the classroom and attached himself to his waist. More surprisingly, his small companion did the same, and buried her face into his side with a quiet whimper.

"Waaaah! We were so scared!"

"Scared!" Fiia echoed him, though her voice was a bit muffled by the fabric of Leonard's polo shirt. He was wearing his bowling outfit, so he hardly looked heroic at the moment, yet the children didn't seem to mind.

"It's okay, kids. Calm down." He reflexively rubbed their heads and then asked, "So? What exactly are you doing here?"

"We were looking for the mysterieees," Éolienne started, his voice sounding a little nasal. "And the door locked itseeelf, and we got stuuuck, and then the phone didn't wooork, and then Gutsy moooved, and we were scaaared, and..."

"Slow down, slow down. What's a 'gutsy'?"

"T-The dummy!" Fiia responded, finally realising who she was hugging, and she hurriedly stepped back like she was touching the hot stove, then frantically gestured at the corner. "L-Look! He's over there now, but he used to be—"

Since she went silent so abruptly, Éolienne also stepped back and glanced around the room, only to mutter, "There are two Gutsies?

Just as he said, there were not one, but two identical models standing in the room, one in each corner, both in the same neutral pose they had seen before. Leonard squinted at them, then at the kids, then back at the dummies.

"I think you might've gotten confused in the dark."

"M-Maybe?" Fiia mumbled, looking down at her shoes, her cheeks flushing with a heat that had nothing to do with fear. Of course. Two models. The second one was probably a spare that was left outside for some reason. It was a perfectly reasonable explanation. There was no ghost, or living dummy, or... anything. Just two identical plastic figures and overactive imaginations.

"Where are the others?" Leonard asked, his tall figure towering over Fiia, and when neither of them responded, he shook his head and said, "Never mind, they're nearby. Go, meet up with them while I tidy up the place a little."

"B-But the door is stuck..." Éolienne said in a mousy voice, but then Leonard S. Dunnign casually walked over... to the other door, at the back of the classroom.

He grabbed the handle and then slid it open with a smooth motion.

"There are always two of these in every classroom. Probably because these bloody things are so unreliable," he grumbled, but then shook his head. "Now, shoo, shoo. I'll catch up with you in a minute."

"O-Okay!" the little boy exclaimed, though his voice was just a tad sheepish. He turned to Fiia and took her hand, their earlier fear completely replaced by a deep sense of embarrassment. The two of them picked up the discarded flash-light (which, after a few good shakes, started working again) and scurried out of the classroom, leaving Leonard S. Dunning all alone. Or, was he?

Once he was sure the children were rushing down the corridor, he closed the door behind him and walked over to the 'Gutsy' standing near the teacher's desk. He squinted at the plastic figure for a few seconds, then reached out and grabbed its head, his large palm covering its face. As he did, the previously inanimate model let out a high-pitched sound, and then with a puff of smoke and a flash, it completely disappeared, leaving behind only...

"Nyuuu!"

... a small, one-eyed, flesh-coloured creature that vigorously waved its stubby limbs. With a sigh, Leonard S. Dunning hefted it, so that it was now perched on his palm instead, and squinted at it with clear disapproval.

"Pudding-kun? What are you doing in Ollie's school?"

The mini-shoggoth froze up and then began to frantically gesticulate, along with a long series of 'Nyuuu!'-s and 'Nyunyunyu!'-s, plus the occasional 'NyuUuUuU!'. In any case, Leonard S. Dunning couldn't make any sense of it.

"Whatever. You scared the kids, so no snacks for you this week."

The stern punishment made the little creature let out a heart-wrenching, "Nyuuuuu!", its little appendages raised up in the air as if pleading with the heavens, but Leonard S. Dunning ignored its cries and turned around, only to pause and look up at the ceiling.

"... I swear, it really feels like we're being narrated again. I really have to look into this."

And with that, he disappeared from the school, along with the now whimpering mini-shoggoth. Meanwhile, the two children were rushing down the hallway, still holding hands, and their cheeks still burning with embarrassment, none the wiser that they had just barely missed an encounter with the seventh mystery of Red Lake Elementary, the mysterious 'ghost' that went 'Nyuuu!' in the night.