Ghostbane

The three of them stepped out of Nat's house, the early afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Richard walked beside his old, slightly rusted bicycle, pushing it along as he adjusted his bag over his shoulder. Amelia, now officially part of the group, walked between him and Max, stretching her arms.

Max turned to Richard and raised an eyebrow. "You know, you do realize that thing has wheels, right?" He gestured toward the bicycle.

Richard shot him a bored look. "Yeah, I just felt like pushing it today. Great exercise."

Max scoffed. "Exercise? Bro, just admit you're too scared to ride it with us around. Afraid you'll fall and embarrass yourself?"

Amelia chuckled. "I mean… he does kinda give that vibe."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Wow. Love the support, guys."

Max smirked. "Don't worry, man. If you trip and faceplant, I'll make sure to record it in 4K."

Richard exhaled sharply. "You know what? I hope you step on a rusty nail."

Max pretended to wipe away a tear. "Damn, the hostility. We're supposed to be bonding, man."

Amelia giggled and adjusted her ponytail. "Speaking of bonding, where exactly are we going?"

Max snapped his fingers. "Ethan's place. He's one of Oliver's little buddies. If anyone knows more about what he was doing, it's him."

Richard frowned. "And we're just gonna knock on the door and hope he answers?"

Max grinned. "Oh, absolutely not. If he's smart, he'll run. If he's dumb, he'll lie. Either way, we get what we need."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "And if he doesn't answer?"

Max patted her shoulder. "Then we improvise."

Richard shook his head. "That sounds… extremely illegal."

Max scoffed. "You act like we haven't already committed, like, five crimes this week."

Amelia chuckled. "I have to admit… I didn't expect my first day out of bed to involve potentially breaking and entering."

Richard sighed. "Welcome to the job."

The three of them continued walking, bantering back and forth, the air between them growing lighter despite the weight of their mission. The day felt strangely normal—a brief moment of peace before diving back into the chaos.

Here's an expanded and more realistic dialogue-driven version of Part 2 of Chapter 23:

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The house was a mess. The paint on the walls was cracked and faded, and the front door looked like it had been kicked in at least once before. A busted mailbox leaned against the porch railing, barely hanging on. The whole place gave off the vibe of someone who either didn't care about their living space or was too busy getting high to notice.

Max stopped in front of the door and gave it three hard knocks. BANG. BANG. BANG.

The three of them stood in silence, waiting.

No response.

Max knocked again, this time even harder. BANG. BANG. BANG.

Still nothing.

Richard sighed, already feeling the headache coming. "Well, great. That's that. He's not home. Time to go."

Max turned his head slowly, narrowing his eyes. "Are you dumb? No one with a house like this just 'goes out.'"

Amelia tilted her head. "Maybe he's ignoring us?"

Max smirked. "Or maybe he's hiding."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Why would he be hiding from us?"

Max shrugged. "People who do shady shit tend to not like random people knocking on their door. He could be scared, paranoid, or—"

Richard cut him off. "Or he's just not here."

Max ignored him and grabbed the doorknob, twisting it. Locked.

Max sighed dramatically. "Man, would've been nice if he just left his door open for us. That's what a good suspect would do."

Richard folded his arms. "And what exactly are you planning to do now?"

Max smirked and cracked his knuckles. "Plan B."

Amelia frowned. "Which is?"

Max crouched down, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small wire. He started fiddling with the lock, his fingers moving with a little too much experience.

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "...Why do you know how to pick locks?"

Max grinned. "Because life is unpredictable, and sometimes you need to enter a place you weren't technically invited to."

Richard shook his head. "You're a walking felony."

Max winked. "And proud of it."

Amelia crossed her arms. "You're not even gonna try knocking one more time?"

Max paused for half a second, then knocked lightly on the door with his knuckle. Tap. Tap. "There. I tried."

Richard groaned. "This is literally breaking and entering."

Max grinned. "Well, technically it's just entering. The door's already broken."

As if to prove his point, the lock clicked open a second later.

Richard facepalmed. "I hate how fast you did that."

Max stood up, dusting off his hands. "Talent, my guy."

Amelia hesitated. "Are we… really doing this?"

Max put his hand on his chest, feigning offense. "Amelia, do you trust me?"

"No."

"Perfect! Let's go."

Max pushed the door open, and they stepped inside.

The first thing they noticed was the smell.

It was a disgusting mix of old sweat, cheap air freshener, and something rotting. Not dead-animal rotting, but the kind of stench that built up over weeks of not taking out the trash.

Richard covered his nose. "Jesus Christ—what the hell does this guy do in here?"

Max took a deep breath through his nose. "Mmm. Smells like depression and bad decisions."

Amelia coughed. "God, it's awful."

The living room was an absolute disaster. Dirty clothes were piled in the corner, empty beer cans were scattered across the floor, and the coffee table was covered in cigarette butts and half-eaten food.

Richard wrinkled his nose. "I feel like I need ten vaccines just standing here."

Max stepped over a pile of old fast-food wrappers and kicked a dirty sock out of the way. "Classic loser setup. I'd bet money there's a mattress on the floor in his bedroom."

Amelia carefully made her way around the mess. "Are we sure we're gonna find anything useful here?"

Max smirked. "We're already finding useful things. Look at this."

He pointed at a small table near the couch. Scattered across it were several packs of rolling paper, loose weed, and a few small baggies with powder in them.

Richard frowned. "Hard drugs?"

Max picked up one of the baggies and held it up to the light. "Nah. This looks like cheap cocaine. The kind that makes you feel like a king for five minutes and a failure for the rest of the night."

Amelia sighed. "Great. So he's not just a creep—he's a drug addict too."

Richard walked over to a different part of the room and scanned the shelves. His eyes landed on something even worse.

"Uh. Max?"

Max turned around. "What?"

Richard lifted up a stack of porn magazines with one finger, keeping them at a safe distance like they might be radioactive. "I think I found his collection."

Max's face twisted. "Bruh. Why are you touching that?"

"I'm not touching it! I just—ugh." Richard tossed them back onto the shelf.

Amelia looked like she regretted coming. "Can we just get this over with?"

Max nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Let's check his room."

They walked past the messy living room and opened the door to what was clearly Ethan's bedroom.

And there it was—a mattress on the floor.

Max grinned. "Called it."

Richard shook his head. "I hate that you were right."

The bedroom was just as bad as the living room. Dirty clothes were everywhere, along with several empty liquor bottles, more drugs, and a stack of crumpled up tissues that no one wanted to think about.

Amelia, who had been trying to stay neutral, finally gagged. "Oh my god, this place is disgusting."

Richard groaned. "Let's just find what we need and get out of here before we catch something."

They began searching the room. Max checked under the mattress, Richard went through the desk, and Amelia cautiously looked through a pile of papers.

After a few minutes, Richard sighed. "Nothing supernatural. Just a bunch of drugs, filth, and terrible life choices."

Max stood up, stretching. "Well, at least we know he's not summoning demons or anything."

Amelia rubbed her temples. "This was a waste of time."

Max shook his head. "Not really. This tells us a lot about the kind of guy he is."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what's your expert analysis?"

Max smirked. "Guy's a complete loser."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Wow. Incredible insight."

Max grinned. "It's a talent."

With nothing left to check, the three of them left the apartment, closing the door behind them.

Richard took a deep breath once they were b

The three of them walked down the street, away from the disaster of Ethan's apartment. The sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement. It was a warm afternoon, the type that made you want to sit somewhere shaded with an ice-cold drink.

Richard wiped his forehead. "Man, I hate summer."

Amelia glanced at him. "Same here. "

Richard groaned. "It's hot as fuck. "

Max smirked. "You sound like a grandpa complaining about the weather."

Richard shot him a look. "Dude, we just spent the last hour digging through some pervert's trash heap of an apartment. I'm allowed to be miserable."

Amelia sighed. "I still feel gross just thinking about it."

Max stretched his arms. "You guys complain too much. I'm thriving."

Richard scoffed. "Yeah, you love wading through piles of used underwear, don't you?"

Max smirked. "Hey, I don't judge lifestyles."

Amelia made a disgusted face. "I judge. That was foul."

Max clapped his hands together. "Alright, since we all need to cleanse our souls after that, how about we grab some coffee?"

Richard gave him a look. "Coffee? In this heat?"

Max grinned. "Ever heard of iced coffee, dumbass?"

Amelia perked up. "Oh, that actually sounds nice."

Richard groaned in defeat. "Fine. But you two are paying."

Max draped an arm over Richard's shoulder. "Oh, buddy, you're hilarious. You got jokes now."

Richard rolled his eyes. "I hate you."

Max winked. "I know."

The café was small cozy, with air conditioning blasting just enough to provide relief from the sun. The scent of roasted coffee beans mixed with fresh pastries, making the place almost too inviting.

There were a few students with laptops, some office workers on their break, and an old man in the corner reading a newspaper. The three of them walked up to the counter, scanning the menu.

Max leaned toward Amelia. "So, what's your go-to order?"

Amelia thought for a moment. "Hmm… Probably an iced caramel latte."

Max smirked. "Sweet and basic. I approve."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "And you?"

Max grinned. "Black coffee, no sugar."

Amelia tilted her head. "That's kind of… serious?"

Richard butted in. "He drinks it because he thinks it makes him look cool."

Max gasped dramatically. "How dare you? My love for black coffee is pure and genuine."

Richard scoffed. "Yeah, sure. You just like to brood over your cup like some detective in a noir film."

Amelia laughed. "He does give off that vibe."

Max smirked. "Don't hate the player, hate the aesthetic."

Richard shook his head. "Whatever. I'm just getting an iced coffee."

They placed their orders, with Max reluctantly paying (after much complaining), and took a seat at a corner booth.

Max stretched his arms behind his head. "Man, nothing beats afternoon coffee after breaking into some loser's apartment."

Richard shot him a look. "You say that like it's normal."

Max grinned. "Isn't it?"

Amelia stirred her drink. "I gotta admit… I kind of expected more from today."

Richard nodded. "Yeah, same. After all the creepy shit we've seen, I thought we'd at least find one weird thing."

Max leaned back. "Eh, can't force ghosts to show up. Spirits are like women—you gotta let them come to you."

Amelia stared at him. "That's the worst analogy I've ever heard."

Richard smirked. "Nah, this is peak Max logic."

Max shrugged. "I'm just saying, chasing ghosts is like dating. Some days you score, some days you go home with nothing."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but most people don't break into houses to get a date."

Richard sipped his iced coffee. "Actually, knowing Max, I wouldn't put it past him."

Max smirked. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Amelia shook her head. "You're insane."

Max grinned. "And yet, you're here, sipping coffee with me."

Amelia blinked, caught off guard for a second. "I—shut up."

Richard snorted. "Did Max just make you speechless?"

Amelia glared at him. "Shut. Up."

Max winked. "See? I've got talent."

Richard groaned. "Can we not turn this into another episode of 'Max tries to flirt'?"

Amelia sighed. "Thank you."

Max chuckled, sipping his coffee. "Fine, fine. Let's get back to business."

Richard leaned forward. "So, are we seriously done with the Oliver situation?"

Max tapped his fingers on the table. "We're done with Ethan. But Oliver? He's still out there."

Amelia frowned. "You really think he's dangerous?"

Max nodded. "Yeah. I don't buy that he was just some idiot playing with ghosts. He knew too much. And he had friends."

Richard sighed. "So, what now? We just hope he doesn't try anything again?"

Max smirked. "Oh, we're not hoping. We're waiting."

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Waiting?"

Max leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "Guys like Oliver? They don't just stop. He's gonna try something again. And when he does, we'll be ready."

Richard sighed. "Man, I just wanted coffee."

Max grinned. "And coffee you shall have. But also crime and ghosts."

Amelia shook her head. "This is my life now, huh?"

Richard smirked. "Yep. Welcome to the club."

Max lifted his cup. "Cheers to that."

The three of them clinked their cups together.

The afternoon sun shined through the window, casting warm light over them.