(a/n: Once again I still hate doing these.. BUT! I apologize if anything seems a bit rushed. Tell me if you'd like it if you want me to "elaborate" a bit more. But of course don't get ahead of yourself, because this will never be perfect the way you think it should be. Also. If there are some 'errors,' please tell me what they are instead of just saying, "it needs to be better." That doesn't really help. ^^; Please be kind too. Sorry and Thank you~!)

The taxi gently pulled up in front of the apartment. The apartment building of which Higgily Diggily Hügen lived in, to be exact.

Since we sat on the left side of the road, where the apartment was, I pushed open the door and thanked the taxi driver and told him to wait for us, as Sherlock, the Inspector and I stepped out.

"I believe it's apartment C," The Inspector said as we walked up the steps of the building.

A while later, we had reached the door. Just before the Inspector knocked the sound of some piece of furniture, like a bookcase.. or a dresser, seemed to fall onto the hard floor.

The Inspector knocked.
Loud footsteps.
No response.

Inspector Lestrade sighed, "He's probably doing some "last-minute-cleaning." He said.
Sherlock wore an uncertain look.

Just as The Inspector went to knock again, the shouting of a man broke out, followed by the sound of the rapid fire of an automatic weapon!

I quickly pushed open the door. My jaw dropped. The dead body of a man I assumed to be "Higgily Diggily Hügen" laid on the floor with several bloody bullet holes in his chest. But that wasn't left me awestruck.

A phantom-like being hovered only inches above the floor. It was barely translucent, noticing I could almost see through it- well, him. He seemed like he was in mid-seventies, was bald on top, white hair on the side of his head, which included the rough goatee on his face, he wore a lab coat with jeans, he resembled the "mad scientist" stereotype, and to add to that was a pair of thick lensed glasses.

He begun to reload what seemed to be a SGM in his hands as he begun to run away, shouting "WHERE'S THE TOILET!?"

I pulled out my gun and chased after him, not really aware if the others were following.

I chased after him to what seemed to be.. well ironically the toilet room. But when we came in...

"Where in the world did he go?" The Inspector shouted in frustratedly.

Sherlock shrugged. "The window's still shut, so maybe down the toilet." He said sarcastically.

I gave him the "this-is-serious" glare, but he didn't respond.

"D*mn it..." Lestrade muttered as he walked out of the toilet room. Sherlock and I followed him to the corpse of Hügen.

His body was in an unnatural position, as if he had no bones. His blood was splattered in an unusual way as well. His hair was just a bit a bit darker than his skin. He had a neatly shaved mustache and his hair seemed to be combed straight up, with lots of hair gel applied. His clothing made him look like he popped straight out of an American, military-themed movie.

I turned to Sherlock. "Sherlock, you don't think that was-?"

Sherlock cut me off when he spoke. "They don't exist... except now they do. Hm. Boring." He said dully.

My eyes widened. "It really was a ghost?!" I exclaimed in disbelief. "It wasn't like some projection or anything?!"

The Inspector looked at us like we were loosing our minds. "What do you mean it's a ghost?!" He demanded.

Sherlock thought deeply. "Interesting, this ghost is most likely linked to the previous murder, but it obviously wasn't him who killed the other two victims." He said.

"Sherlock, he pretty much just witnessed a murder and you're saying he's not the original killer?" I questioned, with a gesture of waving my arms at the crisis around us.

"Of course not, but.. oh how did I not think of this?" Sherlock said as he begun to walk circles in front of us.

The Inspector was beginning to get a bit more frustrated than he already was. "Get on with it would you?" He asked as he gestured an arm at him.

Sherlock stopped and swerved on his heels to face us. "The paranormal being is none other than an accomplice." He said.

I sighed. "No really?" I asked.

Sherlock smirked. "It's really quite ironic that we know someone who has a brother who deals with these sort of problems," he said as he approached the body.

"Sherlock, I don't think she meant 'this' kind of thing, I never knew ghosts could carry submachine guns..." I said scratching my head.

Sherlock crouched next to the Higgily Diggily Hügen's body and gave it a hard poke on the shoulder. It slightly failed around like it was filled with air. It sounded like a large, heavy bag being dragged on a carpeted floor when it moved. Odd.

"Actually," Sherlock spoke up, "On our way here I looked up paranormal investigators by Officer Ginny's last name, Toast. A website popped up for 'P.I.E. Paranormal Investigator Extraordinaires.' ..." he paused. "Extraordinaires' isn't a word..." he muttered.

"Get on with it please."

Sherlock stood. "They deal with this sort of thing on a daily basis." He spoke.

I paused and processed what he said. "Wait.. What!?"

Sherlock turned to Lestrade. "Anyway Inspector, I feel like now would be the perfect time to call Officer Ginny."

He seemed baffled as he stared at the body. "...R... right.." he stuttered as he pulled out his phone.

(a/n: This is suddenly so stressing.. ^^; I feel like I'm judged for my literature for some reason. PERFECT ISN'T MY GOAL BTW!! It's actually to be better than those really 'bad' fanfics I'm sure all of us have come across every now and again. Hopefully chapter 4 will be author note free! 😸)