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Chapter 2: It's Never That Easy

It had just passed three in the morning when Hunter eased his sports bike behind a bush and pulled some braches over its shiny black paint-job. Five minutes to unpack his sniper rifle, two more to put it together, ten more to get in position. He made use of thick, unkempt grass for cover, staying out of sight of the five ghosts that were floating around what looked to be a fairly ordinary cave.

It was mounted in the rock face of a sizable cliff and settled in a small clearing in the picturesque Wisconsin woods. It would have made a nice centerpiece to a wilderness hiking trip, but Hunter severely doubted the ecto-manifestations around it were here to sightsee. A ring of trees lined the small circular clearing, cluttering the sightlines of the ghosts on guard duty and providing shadows from the moonlight.

At the moment the nineteen year old was lying flat on his stomach in those shadows, his black trench coat helping him blend seamlessly into the darkness. A hand brushed his fringe of short black hair out of his eyes before he lifted the gun up and gazed through the glass scope. The darkness that would have hindered his human vision fell away when he looked through it. The world exploded in Technicolor as the specially designed sight detected the ecto-energy level around the area and relayed its findings by coloring everything that came back positive in florescent green.

As expected, the five ghosts that were already visible lit up like haunted Christmas trees, but the background that was normal dark gray when you looked through the scope was absent. Instead the whole area was alight with a pale green glow. This could only mean that these five were just the tip of the iceberg. He must be outside some kind of hidden gathering place for the undead.

"Good place to hide, ghost kid," Hunter murmured, slightly impressed that his prey had the forethought to find safety in numbers. "Too bad it won't save you."

First things first though. He needed to take care of these weaklings before he could get to the real task at hand. Hunter's grip tightened on his gun, a smile forming on his lips as he welcomed the easy anticipation brought on by lying in wait, predicting the right moment to strike.

The crosshairs of his weapon lined up with the center of the first green shape and his smile morphed into a mischievous smirk. His fingers tightened around the trigger. The weapon shuttered a little but didn't make a sound as a miniature trap shot into the air at high speed. It connected with the ghost with a dull squelch and sucked him into the tiny metal case before he even had time to finish his cry of shock.

"This little piggy went to the market," Hunter murmured under his breath. He took aim at the second ghost, fired a second shot. "This little piggy stayed home…"

The second ghost vanished with a sharper scream. The other three were glancing around themselves in shock. None of them could tell where this assault was coming from.

"This little piggy had roost beef…"

Squelch. Whoosh. Click.

Only two left now, the smarter of the pair tried to make a break for it, but the forth shot caught him in the back.

"This little piggy had none..."

The last ghost backed against the stone wall of the cave, deep red eyes scanning the clearing. He noticed the small pinprick of moonlight reflecting off the ecto-sensing scope a second before the fifth trap buried itself in his chest.

"And this little ghostie went we-we-we all that way back to the ghost zone," Hunter finished and then chuckled at his own joke.

He pushed himself up and emerged from his hiding spot in the grass, brushing a few stray leaves from his font. He walked over to the collection of harmless cubes that were holding the raw ecto-energy of the cave's ex-guards, scooped them up and slipped them into his pocket. They were too petty a catch to bother sending back to Vlad. He would just toss them back into the ghost zone when he got home.

Hunter stepped back and eyed the cave. He slid his sniper rifle over his shoulder and replaced it with a short range capture-gun from his hip holster. The thick rock walls of the cave had been enough to interfere with Vlad's satellite tracking system, so he didn't know exactly how many enemies might be in there, only that their collective energy was enough to taint this whole area. His body tensed at the promise of a challenge, excited energy making him grip his weapon a little too hard.

Hunter approached the mouth of the cave, sticking close to one wall and trying to keep his footsteps as silent as possible. Having the element of surprise would be very useful to if a fight broke out, not to mention he didn't even know what he was up against. The darkness enveloped him like an old friend, years of skulking in dark corners for his night-loving quarry had the odd side-benefit of honing his night vision until he could navigate his way around almost any darkened room.

He avoided a stray branch cast across the floor. He crouched low, balancing his weight on the front of his feet, eyes wide open for any unfriendly that might cross his path.

After he passed the narrow entranceway the cave started to widen out. Lights mounted on the hanging stalactites illuminated the belly of the cave, but hunter shrank away from them; he wasn't much of a spotlight person.

He kept slinking along the far wall, passing a few wooden crates that were pushed against the wall. He noticed a shipping label on one of them that indicated they were meant to be delivered to a hardware store in Minnesota. Looks like the shipment had some ghost-related delays.

It didn't take long after that to learn what the ghosts had done with the supplies. Hunter nearly tripped over the first of the steps leading into a crudely constructed balcony along the edge of the cave, conveniently overlooking the large middle area he was trying to get a good glance at.

The construction quality of the balcony looked eerily similar to the treehouse that Hunter had built with his best friend when they were 12. No two planks lined up just right and nails stuck out at random. The only thing holding it together seemed to be a whole lot of carpenter's glue and wishful thinking.

It looked far from safe, but it would probably hold his weight for now. After all, even the treehouse had managed to last a few good months before it collapsed…although that little accident had sent both of them to the hospital with identical wrist fractures. No wonder people used to tease them about sharing everything.

Hunter allowed himself to muse for a second longer, pulling away as soon as the happy memories gave way to the miserable ones. He pushed the feelings back and locked them back in his little mental box. He had spent far too long with his head stuck in the past. Concentrate on the here and now and let the memories be forgotten. Even if it meant letting go of the happy ones, at least he would be free from the bad.

Right now he was hunting, closing in on his pray. Soon he would see what kind of power that little teen was packing, and he was going to relish the chance to best him. Then once he had the boy it would be a simple matter to remove him from existence before he had a chance to use his power against humanity.

It was a cruel practice yes, but if it meant that no one else would have to suffer what he had…it was worth it.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Hunter mounted the first step, shifting his weight slowly from foot to foot so that he could avoid both an unexpected creek of wood or a badly constructed step collapsing under his weight.

He reached the top step with minimal trouble, but a slight vibration from his wrist had him reaching for his gun before he managed the last step. He bent at the knees and flattened himself against the stairs. He risked a quick glance down at his watch. The glowing letters mounted just above the screen read 'ghost sense' and below the label the readout told Hunter that another low level apparition was less than 5 feet away from his current position.

A second later it was in eyeshot, a nasty looking animal imitator ghost that seemed to be going for a mix between a beaver, an octopus, and a monkey. Hunter would never understand why they couldn't just pick one; mixing stuff together made you look more revolting then scary.

It was floating along the small narrow pathway towards the half-concealed Hunter, but its attention was completely focused on the events unfolding on the main chamber. No doubt it was meant to be on guard duty, but it was doing a very poor job of it.

Hunter took it upon himself to show the ghost the error of its ways. He drew himself up and took aim. The movement caught the animal ghost's attention. Red eyes widened and a high-pitched squeak meshed with the sound of a miniature ghost portal opening somewhere inside its chest. Half a second later it was sucked it inside and the portal closed with a resounding POP.

Hunter froze, waiting to see if the commotion had alerted any of the spirits to his presence. He picked out the distinct echoing sound of someone yelling, but nothing coming from any closer than the cave's center.

Curiosity took over and Hunter stepped onto the platform, risking a glace over the edge of the balcony.

The first thing he spotted was his prey—the shock of white hair and peach skin made the teen stand out like a sore thumb among the crowd of green and blue skinned ghosts. Hunter almost wouldn't have believed he was a ghost at all had he not been floating a few feet about the cave floor, surrounded by the distinct spectral aura.

Vlad hadn't been exaggerating about the outfit. He had seen many young female specters going for skin tight, but never any boys before. It didn't look like it was supposed to be provocative either, just functional. It reminded him strongly of the outfits worn by superheroes in comic books, a simple layer that allowed for full freedom of movement.

Hunter would have gone on to wonder why exactly this ghost was taking fashion tips from Spiderman but he was beginning to pick out other familiar faces among the assembled ghosts.

The white-haired teen was waving his arms in the air wildly, trying to explain something to a stone faced Skulker. The fire haired ex-pop star Ember was floating near his shoulder, looking a fair bit more serious than Hunter remembered seeing her last time they parted ways. She had traded in the revealing clothing for long baggy pants and what looked like jacket made of Kevlar armor.

He hadn't expected her to learn so thoroughly from her last capture. She wouldn't be as easy to bring down a second time. Still, he didn't regret cutting her a deal; that night had been worth it.

There were others too, a few ghosts strong enough to be worth remembering. (Well, besides the Box Ghost. He was only memorable because he took to yelling his name at the top of his lungs.) The biker ghost Johnny and his girlfriend Kitty were sitting on the large wooden table (same construction quality as the balcony) in the middle of what looked like a meeting room.

Across from them, Ghost Writer was glancing over a book and comparing it to a map lying open in front of him. Hunter was surprised to see him. Forced out of his library and deprived of his reality keyboard, the writer had lost most of his ability to do any direct damage to anyone. The fact that he was part of the team meant that the ghosts realized they needed brains as well as brawn.

Hunter knew from experience that when ghosts formulated plans it never boded well for him.

There were many specters he didn't recognize hanging on the fringes, all looking like they were ready for some sort of battle. Armor was common as were weapons, and Hunter began to notice the strange symbols sewn onto the ghosts' clothing. It must be some kind of emblem, which could only mean that this group had been organized for a fair amount of time.

All eyes were on the ghost teen at the moment, and judging by the looks he was getting, no one liked whatever he was suggesting. Still, it didn't look like they were going to come to blows over it. Pity, he could have used the moment of confusion to snatch the white-haired ghost-boy and take him somewhere more private.

Hunter was never one to doubt his own skills, but he also wasn't stupid. A nice collection of what remained of his most powerful enemies would be a fair challenge. Even without what must have been at least thirty minor specters ready to claw at his ankles.

It didn't take a genius to realize that starting a fight right now wouldn't end well; it was time to consider his other options. Hunter ducked back down behind the lip of the balcony and rested his weight against the railing, quickly attempting to put together a plan B.

He already had the ghost teen's ecto-signature; he could track him across the whole United States without even lifting a finger. Hunter hated to let his prey slip through his fingers, and he liked the thought of retreating even less, but it was still a better plan than getting himself killed.

The only problem with that idea was that he still didn't know what these ghosts were planning. Whatever it was it looked big and would likely end up biting him in the ass sooner or later. He would never forgive himself if he retreated now and they ended up launching an attack on a city-center or any other populated area.

So, strategy and self-preservation dictated he retreat, while honor and curiosity compelled him to stay. Tough decision… if only he could hear what was being said.

Hunter had just decided to try moving to a closer hiding spot around the same time the shoddily contracted balcony railing started creaking. He had just enough time to wonder where the sound was coming from when the construction buckled with a loud crack. Hunter had been placing just enough of his weight on the balcony that the sudden loss caused him to lose his balance, leaving him and the chuck of banister to crash unceremoniously to the cave floor.

The ghost hunter's first thought once the world stopped spinning was somewhere along the lines of 'damn fucking hell that hurt' his second was a slightly calmer 'I hope no one saw that'.

Unfortunately when he opened his eyes and forced himself shakily to his feet, it was obvious that absolutely everyone had seen that. Hunter took a step back and drew his rifle from his back, it was completely useless at short range but he had lost his smaller gun in the crash. He would rather have an impractical weapon than none at all.

From somewhere in the crowd of ghosts someone gasped in shock, followed by a frightened whisper of 'the Hunter' that was soon picked up by other members of the group, passing through the crowd like a wave.

The ghost boy turned to Skulker, "That's him?" he asked, green eyes flicking back and forth between the two hunters.

"Yes, that's him," Skulker's muttered back, his posture tense and his eyes never leaving his enemy.

"He doesn't look that scary," the white haired teen observed, obviously aware of how all the other ghosts were beginning to slink away or cower in terror.

"Neither do you, kid," Hunter scoffed, eyeing the rather scrawny looking teen that was supposedly packing a power level comparable to the most elite members of the undead.

"Looks can be deceiving, on both counts," Skulker interrupted gruffly, cutting off the ghost boy's response. By now Skulker seemed to have realized that Hunter was not about to unleash some kind of devastating attack and he risked turning his back to yell at Ember, "I thought you said you weren't followed!"

The ex-pop star snapped out of the hateful glare she was giving the human, her repressed anger only adding fuel to her own ignition of being accused. "We weren't!" she shouted. "The only way he could have found us is if he was tracking someone's ecto-signature and all of us are clean… unless…" She trailed off, and suddenly the attention of the room was back on the boy in the jumpsuit.

The teen cringed and bit his bottom lip. "Um…I know this is a bad time…but what's an ecto-signature?"

The question hung in the air a moment before the whole cave broke out into a second round of yelling with the poor teen at the epicenter of the commotion.

Hunter watched the events unfold and shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. Try as they might to organize, ghosts were still ghosts. Strong headed, stubborn, shortsighted, and, most importantly, selfish. Things may not have been going his way so far, but he just had an idea that would allow him to walk out of there and take this green-eyed prey with him.

He spotted his lost gun under the splintered wood of the broken banister and scooped it up, flicking the switch on the side to change its ammunition from mini-portal to concussive blast. He backed up a little bit and pointed the business end of the gun at the roof of the cave and pulled the trigger.

A blast rang out in the cave, echoing off the walls, amplifying the sound and making everyone within earshot lapse into stunned silence. Not five seconds later a chuck of rock about the size of a large dog fell from the cave ceiling and landed with an earsplitting thud a few feet away from Hunter. Reminding himself to never, ever, try that again, Hunter pretended he didn't notice that he almost got flattened and launched into his newly formulated plan C.

"Listen…" he began, pausing to make sure they were all ears. "I don't particularly care about whatever you ghosts are doing down here, I'm just here for him." Hunter pointed the end of his gun at the ghost teen, Hunter's blue eyes locking with the glowing green ones of his prey. The young ghost looked slightly taken aback but defiant and nowhere near afraid.

From that split second of eye contact, Hunter knew he was going to get a good fight out of this one. Those eyes belonged to the kind of soul that wouldn't give up 'til he was seconds away from his last breath.

Hunter tore his eyes away from his new plaything and observed how the other ghosts were regarding the teen. Just as he had hoped, the gathered undead were looking at him with disdain, blaming him for leading their enemy into their hideaway. So predictable…

"I'll make you a deal," Hunter offered, turning to Skulker and purposefully ignoring the ghost teen. "Let me take the boy and I'll walk out of here. I'll forget this place ever existed, and things won't have to get ugly."

"What?" the white haired boy cried indignantly, suitably angered at the very idea of being offered as collateral. Hunter didn't even bat an eyelid, keeping his focus on Skulker. Let the boy have a tantrum; the grown-ups were talking right now.

Skulker considered the offer for a moment, looking over his shoulder to the rest of his militia. The vast majority were either nodding their heads in agreement or jeering at the poor boy. Hunter's timing had been good, whatever this ghost teen had been suggesting before he crashed in, it had obviously not endeared him to the majority.

Ghostwriter looked up from his book, peering at them over his spectacles like they were encroaching on his reading time. "The way I see it, if the ghost boy won't co-operate with us the Hunter might as well take him." His suggestion earned a few agreeing nods from Kitty and Jonny.

Skulker turned to Ember, silently asking for her opinion. The blue flames that she had in place of hair flared, mimicking her mood. Ignoring Skulker, she addressed the ghost boy behind him. "Sorry, dipstick, but if he's on your tail and has a lock on your signature, you're officially useless no matter how powerful you are."

A murmur of agreement went up among the ghosts and Skulker made his decision. "Do you swear on your honor as a hunter that you will not return?" he asked floating down so he could look the human in the eyes.

"…wait! You can't just—" the ghost boy interrupted, only to be hushed by the others.

"I do," Hunter replied with all the seriousness of a man agreeing to his wedding vows.

"Then you may take him," Skulker consented.

No sooner had the words left his lips than he and the other ghosts started getting out of the way as quickly as they could. Leaving the teen in the middle of the circle with Hunter, questioning ghostly eyes waiting to see what would happen next.

Hunter watched as the ghost boy looked around, his expression of anger barley hiding his distress at being abandoned so readily. Hunter's hand tightened around the handle of his pistol and he casually changed the ammo setting to the third option.

White gloves began glowing with ecto-energy and the ghost boy visibly tensed, ready for a fight but seemingly unwilling to make the first move. Hunter lifted his gun and shot twice in two quick motions. The ghost boy managed to dodge the first shot, but in doing so put himself into the path of the second.

Luminous blue rope sprang from the point of contact. They wrapped around arms and legs at random and tightened, tying the ghost boy tighter than a Christmas goose. Disoriented by the sudden uselessness of his limbs, the teen fell to the cave floor, lying there stunned for a moment before he began fighting against his bonds viciously.

Hunter walked over to the ghost, his footsteps crunching on the thin coating of leaves and dirt that lined the cave, the sound echoing and mixing in with the short grunts coming from the struggling ghost boy.

"Save your energy." Hunter smirked and knelt beside the fallen ghost boy, lacing his fingers through the rope and pulling his prey up to eye level. "That line is coated with a specially tested ecto-plasmic resin. No ghost can break it."

"The hell I can't!" the ghost boy spat, but Hunter saw the speck of confusion enter the green eyes glaring at him. His fingers found his pocket and he fished a small circular device form it. The ghost boy's struggling ceased for the moment, but mostly so he could concentrate on yelling at hunter. "It could be uranium coated dynamite for all I care, I'm not going to let y—"

Hunter located the metal ball halfway through the ghost boy's sentence and proceeded to shove the orb into his mouth. The internal mechanism activated, and Hunter watched as it unleashed its own tethers around the boy's head, the device strapping itself neatly into place.

Hunter let himself enjoy the shocked expression on the white-haired teen's face for a few seconds before he hauled the ghost up by his bounds and tossed him over his shoulder. The ghost's natural disregard for gravity made him very easy to carry.

A disappointed murmur went up through the crowd. They had been hoping for more of a fight. Little did they know there still would be one, just not in front of a crowd of potentially lethal spectators and not when his reputation might be at stake.

Capturing the one they considered abnormally strong with a few dirty tricks would win him enough fear points to keep any specter rattling in his boots the moment they heard him coming. If anything had been proven by the fact that he was being allowed to walk out of there alive, it was that being the most feared ghost hunter in the central United States had its advantages.

His grip tightened around the jumpsuit-clad legs, keeping the thrashing boy from falling off his shoulder as he strode out the cave. It seemed that this ghost was every bit as stubborn as Hunter was hoping. He had thought it before but this time it bore repeating, Hunter was defiantly going to enjoy this.

Description
Chapter 2: It's Never That Easy

It had just passed three in the morning when Hunter eased his sports bike behind a bush and pulled some braches over its shiny black paint-job. Five minutes to unpack his sniper rifle, two more to put it together, ten more to get in position. He made use of thick, unkempt grass for cover, staying out of sight of the five ghosts that were floating around what looked to be a fairly ordinary cave.

It was mounted in the rock face of a sizable cliff and settled in a small clearing in the picturesque Wisconsin woods. It would have made a nice centerpiece to a wilderness hiking trip, but Hunter severely doubted the ecto-manifestations around it were here to sightsee. A ring of trees lined the small circular clearing, cluttering the sightlines of the ghosts on guard duty and providing shadows from the moonlight.

At the moment the nineteen year old was lying flat on his stomach in those shadows, his black trench coat helping him blend seamlessly into the darkness. A hand brushed his fringe of short black hair out of his eyes before he lifted the gun up and gazed through the glass scope. The darkness that would have hindered his human vision fell away when he looked through it. The world exploded in Technicolor as the specially designed sight detected the ecto-energy level around the area and relayed its findings by coloring everything that came back positive in florescent green.

As expected, the five ghosts that were already visible lit up like haunted Christmas trees, but the background that was normal dark gray when you looked through the scope was absent. Instead the whole area was alight with a pale green glow. This could only mean that these five were just the tip of the iceberg. He must be outside some kind of hidden gathering place for the undead.

"Good place to hide, ghost kid," Hunter murmured, slightly impressed that his prey had the forethought to find safety in numbers. "Too bad it won't save you."

First things first though. He needed to take care of these weaklings before he could get to the real task at hand. Hunter's grip tightened on his gun, a smile forming on his lips as he welcomed the easy anticipation brought on by lying in wait, predicting the right moment to strike.

The crosshairs of his weapon lined up with the center of the first green shape and his smile morphed into a mischievous smirk. His fingers tightened around the trigger. The weapon shuttered a little but didn't make a sound as a miniature trap shot into the air at high speed. It connected with the ghost with a dull squelch and sucked him into the tiny metal case before he even had time to finish his cry of shock.

"This little piggy went to the market," Hunter murmured under his breath. He took aim at the second ghost, fired a second shot. "This little piggy stayed home…"

The second ghost vanished with a sharper scream. The other three were glancing around themselves in shock. None of them could tell where this assault was coming from.

"This little piggy had roost beef…"

Squelch. Whoosh. Click.

Only two left now, the smarter of the pair tried to make a break for it, but the forth shot caught him in the back.

"This little piggy had none..."

The last ghost backed against the stone wall of the cave, deep red eyes scanning the clearing. He noticed the small pinprick of moonlight reflecting off the ecto-sensing scope a second before the fifth trap buried itself in his chest.

"And this little ghostie went we-we-we all that way back to the ghost zone," Hunter finished and then chuckled at his own joke.

He pushed himself up and emerged from his hiding spot in the grass, brushing a few stray leaves from his font. He walked over to the collection of harmless cubes that were holding the raw ecto-energy of the cave's ex-guards, scooped them up and slipped them into his pocket. They were too petty a catch to bother sending back to Vlad. He would just toss them back into the ghost zone when he got home.

Hunter stepped back and eyed the cave. He slid his sniper rifle over his shoulder and replaced it with a short range capture-gun from his hip holster. The thick rock walls of the cave had been enough to interfere with Vlad's satellite tracking system, so he didn't know exactly how many enemies might be in there, only that their collective energy was enough to taint this whole area. His body tensed at the promise of a challenge, excited energy making him grip his weapon a little too hard.

Hunter approached the mouth of the cave, sticking close to one wall and trying to keep his footsteps as silent as possible. Having the element of surprise would be very useful to if a fight broke out, not to mention he didn't even know what he was up against. The darkness enveloped him like an old friend, years of skulking in dark corners for his night-loving quarry had the odd side-benefit of honing his night vision until he could navigate his way around almost any darkened room.

He avoided a stray branch cast across the floor. He crouched low, balancing his weight on the front of his feet, eyes wide open for any unfriendly that might cross his path.

After he passed the narrow entranceway the cave started to widen out. Lights mounted on the hanging stalactites illuminated the belly of the cave, but hunter shrank away from them; he wasn't much of a spotlight person.

He kept slinking along the far wall, passing a few wooden crates that were pushed against the wall. He noticed a shipping label on one of them that indicated they were meant to be delivered to a hardware store in Minnesota. Looks like the shipment had some ghost-related delays.

It didn't take long after that to learn what the ghosts had done with the supplies. Hunter nearly tripped over the first of the steps leading into a crudely constructed balcony along the edge of the cave, conveniently overlooking the large middle area he was trying to get a good glance at.

The construction quality of the balcony looked eerily similar to the treehouse that Hunter had built with his best friend when they were 12. No two planks lined up just right and nails stuck out at random. The only thing holding it together seemed to be a whole lot of carpenter's glue and wishful thinking.

It looked far from safe, but it would probably hold his weight for now. After all, even the treehouse had managed to last a few good months before it collapsed…although that little accident had sent both of them to the hospital with identical wrist fractures. No wonder people used to tease them about sharing everything.

Hunter allowed himself to muse for a second longer, pulling away as soon as the happy memories gave way to the miserable ones. He pushed the feelings back and locked them back in his little mental box. He had spent far too long with his head stuck in the past. Concentrate on the here and now and let the memories be forgotten. Even if it meant letting go of the happy ones, at least he would be free from the bad.

Right now he was hunting, closing in on his pray. Soon he would see what kind of power that little teen was packing, and he was going to relish the chance to best him. Then once he had the boy it would be a simple matter to remove him from existence before he had a chance to use his power against humanity.

It was a cruel practice yes, but if it meant that no one else would have to suffer what he had…it was worth it.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Hunter mounted the first step, shifting his weight slowly from foot to foot so that he could avoid both an unexpected creek of wood or a badly constructed step collapsing under his weight.

He reached the top step with minimal trouble, but a slight vibration from his wrist had him reaching for his gun before he managed the last step. He bent at the knees and flattened himself against the stairs. He risked a quick glance down at his watch. The glowing letters mounted just above the screen read 'ghost sense' and below the label the readout told Hunter that another low level apparition was less than 5 feet away from his current position.

A second later it was in eyeshot, a nasty looking animal imitator ghost that seemed to be going for a mix between a beaver, an octopus, and a monkey. Hunter would never understand why they couldn't just pick one; mixing stuff together made you look more revolting then scary.

It was floating along the small narrow pathway towards the half-concealed Hunter, but its attention was completely focused on the events unfolding on the main chamber. No doubt it was meant to be on guard duty, but it was doing a very poor job of it.

Hunter took it upon himself to show the ghost the error of its ways. He drew himself up and took aim. The movement caught the animal ghost's attention. Red eyes widened and a high-pitched squeak meshed with the sound of a miniature ghost portal opening somewhere inside its chest. Half a second later it was sucked it inside and the portal closed with a resounding POP.

Hunter froze, waiting to see if the commotion had alerted any of the spirits to his presence. He picked out the distinct echoing sound of someone yelling, but nothing coming from any closer than the cave's center.

Curiosity took over and Hunter stepped onto the platform, risking a glace over the edge of the balcony.

The first thing he spotted was his prey—the shock of white hair and peach skin made the teen stand out like a sore thumb among the crowd of green and blue skinned ghosts. Hunter almost wouldn't have believed he was a ghost at all had he not been floating a few feet about the cave floor, surrounded by the distinct spectral aura.

Vlad hadn't been exaggerating about the outfit. He had seen many young female specters going for skin tight, but never any boys before. It didn't look like it was supposed to be provocative either, just functional. It reminded him strongly of the outfits worn by superheroes in comic books, a simple layer that allowed for full freedom of movement.

Hunter would have gone on to wonder why exactly this ghost was taking fashion tips from Spiderman but he was beginning to pick out other familiar faces among the assembled ghosts.

The white-haired teen was waving his arms in the air wildly, trying to explain something to a stone faced Skulker. The fire haired ex-pop star Ember was floating near his shoulder, looking a fair bit more serious than Hunter remembered seeing her last time they parted ways. She had traded in the revealing clothing for long baggy pants and what looked like jacket made of Kevlar armor.

He hadn't expected her to learn so thoroughly from her last capture. She wouldn't be as easy to bring down a second time. Still, he didn't regret cutting her a deal; that night had been worth it.

There were others too, a few ghosts strong enough to be worth remembering. (Well, besides the Box Ghost. He was only memorable because he took to yelling his name at the top of his lungs.) The biker ghost Johnny and his girlfriend Kitty were sitting on the large wooden table (same construction quality as the balcony) in the middle of what looked like a meeting room.

Across from them, Ghost Writer was glancing over a book and comparing it to a map lying open in front of him. Hunter was surprised to see him. Forced out of his library and deprived of his reality keyboard, the writer had lost most of his ability to do any direct damage to anyone. The fact that he was part of the team meant that the ghosts realized they needed brains as well as brawn.

Hunter knew from experience that when ghosts formulated plans it never boded well for him.

There were many specters he didn't recognize hanging on the fringes, all looking like they were ready for some sort of battle. Armor was common as were weapons, and Hunter began to notice the strange symbols sewn onto the ghosts' clothing. It must be some kind of emblem, which could only mean that this group had been organized for a fair amount of time.

All eyes were on the ghost teen at the moment, and judging by the looks he was getting, no one liked whatever he was suggesting. Still, it didn't look like they were going to come to blows over it. Pity, he could have used the moment of confusion to snatch the white-haired ghost-boy and take him somewhere more private.

Hunter was never one to doubt his own skills, but he also wasn't stupid. A nice collection of what remained of his most powerful enemies would be a fair challenge. Even without what must have been at least thirty minor specters ready to claw at his ankles.

It didn't take a genius to realize that starting a fight right now wouldn't end well; it was time to consider his other options. Hunter ducked back down behind the lip of the balcony and rested his weight against the railing, quickly attempting to put together a plan B.

He already had the ghost teen's ecto-signature; he could track him across the whole United States without even lifting a finger. Hunter hated to let his prey slip through his fingers, and he liked the thought of retreating even less, but it was still a better plan than getting himself killed.

The only problem with that idea was that he still didn't know what these ghosts were planning. Whatever it was it looked big and would likely end up biting him in the ass sooner or later. He would never forgive himself if he retreated now and they ended up launching an attack on a city-center or any other populated area.

So, strategy and self-preservation dictated he retreat, while honor and curiosity compelled him to stay. Tough decision… if only he could hear what was being said.

Hunter had just decided to try moving to a closer hiding spot around the same time the shoddily contracted balcony railing started creaking. He had just enough time to wonder where the sound was coming from when the construction buckled with a loud crack. Hunter had been placing just enough of his weight on the balcony that the sudden loss caused him to lose his balance, leaving him and the chuck of banister to crash unceremoniously to the cave floor.

The ghost hunter's first thought once the world stopped spinning was somewhere along the lines of 'damn fucking hell that hurt' his second was a slightly calmer 'I hope no one saw that'.

Unfortunately when he opened his eyes and forced himself shakily to his feet, it was obvious that absolutely everyone had seen that. Hunter took a step back and drew his rifle from his back, it was completely useless at short range but he had lost his smaller gun in the crash. He would rather have an impractical weapon than none at all.

From somewhere in the crowd of ghosts someone gasped in shock, followed by a frightened whisper of 'the Hunter' that was soon picked up by other members of the group, passing through the crowd like a wave.

The ghost boy turned to Skulker, "That's him?" he asked, green eyes flicking back and forth between the two hunters.

"Yes, that's him," Skulker's muttered back, his posture tense and his eyes never leaving his enemy.

"He doesn't look that scary," the white haired teen observed, obviously aware of how all the other ghosts were beginning to slink away or cower in terror.

"Neither do you, kid," Hunter scoffed, eyeing the rather scrawny looking teen that was supposedly packing a power level comparable to the most elite members of the undead.

"Looks can be deceiving, on both counts," Skulker interrupted gruffly, cutting off the ghost boy's response. By now Skulker seemed to have realized that Hunter was not about to unleash some kind of devastating attack and he risked turning his back to yell at Ember, "I thought you said you weren't followed!"

The ex-pop star snapped out of the hateful glare she was giving the human, her repressed anger only adding fuel to her own ignition of being accused. "We weren't!" she shouted. "The only way he could have found us is if he was tracking someone's ecto-signature and all of us are clean… unless…" She trailed off, and suddenly the attention of the room was back on the boy in the jumpsuit.

The teen cringed and bit his bottom lip. "Um…I know this is a bad time…but what's an ecto-signature?"

The question hung in the air a moment before the whole cave broke out into a second round of yelling with the poor teen at the epicenter of the commotion.

Hunter watched the events unfold and shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. Try as they might to organize, ghosts were still ghosts. Strong headed, stubborn, shortsighted, and, most importantly, selfish. Things may not have been going his way so far, but he just had an idea that would allow him to walk out of there and take this green-eyed prey with him.

He spotted his lost gun under the splintered wood of the broken banister and scooped it up, flicking the switch on the side to change its ammunition from mini-portal to concussive blast. He backed up a little bit and pointed the business end of the gun at the roof of the cave and pulled the trigger.

A blast rang out in the cave, echoing off the walls, amplifying the sound and making everyone within earshot lapse into stunned silence. Not five seconds later a chuck of rock about the size of a large dog fell from the cave ceiling and landed with an earsplitting thud a few feet away from Hunter. Reminding himself to never, ever, try that again, Hunter pretended he didn't notice that he almost got flattened and launched into his newly formulated plan C.

"Listen…" he began, pausing to make sure they were all ears. "I don't particularly care about whatever you ghosts are doing down here, I'm just here for him." Hunter pointed the end of his gun at the ghost teen, Hunter's blue eyes locking with the glowing green ones of his prey. The young ghost looked slightly taken aback but defiant and nowhere near afraid.

From that split second of eye contact, Hunter knew he was going to get a good fight out of this one. Those eyes belonged to the kind of soul that wouldn't give up 'til he was seconds away from his last breath.

Hunter tore his eyes away from his new plaything and observed how the other ghosts were regarding the teen. Just as he had hoped, the gathered undead were looking at him with disdain, blaming him for leading their enemy into their hideaway. So predictable…

"I'll make you a deal," Hunter offered, turning to Skulker and purposefully ignoring the ghost teen. "Let me take the boy and I'll walk out of here. I'll forget this place ever existed, and things won't have to get ugly."

"What?" the white haired boy cried indignantly, suitably angered at the very idea of being offered as collateral. Hunter didn't even bat an eyelid, keeping his focus on Skulker. Let the boy have a tantrum; the grown-ups were talking right now.

Skulker considered the offer for a moment, looking over his shoulder to the rest of his militia. The vast majority were either nodding their heads in agreement or jeering at the poor boy. Hunter's timing had been good, whatever this ghost teen had been suggesting before he crashed in, it had obviously not endeared him to the majority.

Ghostwriter looked up from his book, peering at them over his spectacles like they were encroaching on his reading time. "The way I see it, if the ghost boy won't co-operate with us the Hunter might as well take him." His suggestion earned a few agreeing nods from Kitty and Jonny.

Skulker turned to Ember, silently asking for her opinion. The blue flames that she had in place of hair flared, mimicking her mood. Ignoring Skulker, she addressed the ghost boy behind him. "Sorry, dipstick, but if he's on your tail and has a lock on your signature, you're officially useless no matter how powerful you are."

A murmur of agreement went up among the ghosts and Skulker made his decision. "Do you swear on your honor as a hunter that you will not return?" he asked floating down so he could look the human in the eyes.

"…wait! You can't just—" the ghost boy interrupted, only to be hushed by the others.

"I do," Hunter replied with all the seriousness of a man agreeing to his wedding vows.

"Then you may take him," Skulker consented.

No sooner had the words left his lips than he and the other ghosts started getting out of the way as quickly as they could. Leaving the teen in the middle of the circle with Hunter, questioning ghostly eyes waiting to see what would happen next.

Hunter watched as the ghost boy looked around, his expression of anger barley hiding his distress at being abandoned so readily. Hunter's hand tightened around the handle of his pistol and he casually changed the ammo setting to the third option.

White gloves began glowing with ecto-energy and the ghost boy visibly tensed, ready for a fight but seemingly unwilling to make the first move. Hunter lifted his gun and shot twice in two quick motions. The ghost boy managed to dodge the first shot, but in doing so put himself into the path of the second.

Luminous blue rope sprang from the point of contact. They wrapped around arms and legs at random and tightened, tying the ghost boy tighter than a Christmas goose. Disoriented by the sudden uselessness of his limbs, the teen fell to the cave floor, lying there stunned for a moment before he began fighting against his bonds viciously.

Hunter walked over to the ghost, his footsteps crunching on the thin coating of leaves and dirt that lined the cave, the sound echoing and mixing in with the short grunts coming from the struggling ghost boy.

"Save your energy." Hunter smirked and knelt beside the fallen ghost boy, lacing his fingers through the rope and pulling his prey up to eye level. "That line is coated with a specially tested ecto-plasmic resin. No ghost can break it."

"The hell I can't!" the ghost boy spat, but Hunter saw the speck of confusion enter the green eyes glaring at him. His fingers found his pocket and he fished a small circular device form it. The ghost boy's struggling ceased for the moment, but mostly so he could concentrate on yelling at hunter. "It could be uranium coated dynamite for all I care, I'm not going to let y—"

Hunter located the metal ball halfway through the ghost boy's sentence and proceeded to shove the orb into his mouth. The internal mechanism activated, and Hunter watched as it unleashed its own tethers around the boy's head, the device strapping itself neatly into place.

Hunter let himself enjoy the shocked expression on the white-haired teen's face for a few seconds before he hauled the ghost up by his bounds and tossed him over his shoulder. The ghost's natural disregard for gravity made him very easy to carry.

A disappointed murmur went up through the crowd. They had been hoping for more of a fight. Little did they know there still would be one, just not in front of a crowd of potentially lethal spectators and not when his reputation might be at stake.

Capturing the one they considered abnormally strong with a few dirty tricks would win him enough fear points to keep any specter rattling in his boots the moment they heard him coming. If anything had been proven by the fact that he was being allowed to walk out of there alive, it was that being the most feared ghost hunter in the central United States had its advantages.

His grip tightened around the jumpsuit-clad legs, keeping the thrashing boy from falling off his shoulder as he strode out the cave. It seemed that this ghost was every bit as stubborn as Hunter was hoping. He had thought it before but this time it bore repeating, Hunter was defiantly going to enjoy this.