Yellow police tape covered the door. Men in blue uniforms milled around, wisps in the light. He could almost hear them, mere thoughts of the future. Time was relative, if not the same as the time he lived in now amongst the twilight.

Twilight. The sun had set far enough. It should have been safe for him to enter, both when the shadows of its time were alive but docile. A happy medium. He entered the decaying building, breaking reality and snapping it back to his present as yellow tape melted into mist. All was silent for now.

He walked further into the building, further into decrepit halls of a once well-respected hospital. Why it ran into ruin, he didn't know, nor did he care. Things were calling to him from the dark, and he had to keep moving.

Glass and plaster crunched under his feet from where windows had broken and the ceiling collapsed. Old pipes hung loosely from where the weight became too much. The walls were littered with graffiti from any daring soul who entered, or perhaps they couldn't feel what lay within. Not many could; not many were like him.

Soft, pleading whispers reached his ears, blending perfectly with the dying light and overgrowth. Enchantment laced in those words. It was the calling of a woeful siren, wallowing into the unknown. He drifted down the halls, following a breeze that tugged urgently at his trench coat, a breeze that would've tipped his hat if it were any stronger. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought a young, if not melancholy, spirit was beckoning to him.

A door stood ajar at the end of the hall, its rusting hinges creaking ever so slightly. The floor groaned beneath him, threatening to give way at any second. But he knew they wouldn't. Whatever was here didn't want him to die yet. What use would he be then? No, they wouldn't kill him. They wouldn't, even if they could. With a nudge of his foot, he pushed the door open, but he didn't dare go inside.

The room marked the corner of the building, rounded and fitted with windows all around. Some windows cracked with intricate spider webs, while others still held their warped, timeless glass. A thin layer of dust settled in the room, undisturbed by the roaring winds he knew tormented outside.

In the center of the room sat a young girl in a light pink nightgown. Soft golden curls trembled as much as her lips did as she stared at him with wide, blue, watery eyes. Oh, how blue they were as fat tears ran down her rounded cheeks. Little transparent hands rubbed furiously at them.

"Please," she babbled. "Please, investigator! Let me out! Let me go outside and play!"

He smiled kindly at her.

"Please! It's scary in here, and I'm all alone!"

His smile grew wider and knowing.

"Oh," he crooned, "you have grown clever, I see. But these...childish tricks of yours cannot deceive me anymore."

Everything stopped.

Dust hung in the air as the little girl's pout grew thin. Blue eyes flickered. Gold became gray. She snarled as she split in half, eyes turning black as darkness flooded the room. The windows shuttered and shook as the true storm outside revealed itself, rain pouring and wind howling. Screaming and screaming.

For a split second, lightning flashed, ripping a hole through the darkness and revealing all.

Ah, this is the reality I was looking for.

Empty white eyes bore into him as the woman's maw gaped open, forever frozen in a scream. Her skin was tight and thin despite her bloated face from being hung upside down for so long. Beyond the window and into the dark, dark sky, her legs dangled, and it crushed her pelvis between the semi-closed framing. Old blood stained the floor, seeping and meandering between the cracks. This was the true victim before him; the one who had called him here. But the darkness crammed in again.

"Free us," it demanded, screeching voices echoing at him from all corners. "Free us, or this girl will never know freedom. She belongs to us! She always has!"

"I will not."

He turned on his heel and began walking away, grimacing at how the woman's being was too far gone. He had come here hoping to lead another forgotten soul back to their reality—a better one—but he was too late.

The twisted darkness screamed and yowled at him, hissing and biting at his heels. Her blank eyes flashed with an eerie glow wherever he looked. They threw taunts at him and cursed him, vowing that he would be next. When his time came, oh, he would be next. They promised brimstone and torture, anguish and a darkness so black his very soul would dissolve like acid. They promised the same to the woman if he didn't help her; didn't set them free.

That was when another voice arose from the din, a thin hand grasping onto the back of his coat as he stepped past the doors. He didn't turn around, but he knew who it was.

"Please, sir," a soft, mournful voice said. There was no anger, no malice, only exhaustion. "Is there nothing you can do for me?"

He turned ever so slightly, only enough to glance behind him. Pity showed on his face as he saw stringy, dull hair draped over skin and bones. Her eyes sunk in deeply as dark bags showed prominently below dreary eyes. Indeed, he pitied her, but he pulled away.

"I'm afraid I can't, miss. Some things aren't meant to be out in the world, and unfortunately, many of them have attached to you. As cruel as it is, I can't save one soul when many would be put in danger. If I free you, I would be freeing them."

Blank eyes watered, the same eyes that had chased him out of the hospital, but no tears fell. Instead, she bowed her head in thanks, skeletal fists clenched and trembling at her sides. Her voice was warbly and thick and barely above a whisper as she tried to smile through her despair.

"I understand. Thank you, anyway, investigator. I—"

She jumped when a gloved hand tilted her head upwards, and she was met with the dark eyes of the investigator. The knowing, if not taunting, smile was back, but all she felt was reassurance.

"But what fun is freeing them when you can control them?"

For a moment, his form flickered. Pitch black surrounded him as red, sinister grins flashed from within the darkness. She startled back in surprise, jerking her face away from his hand, but the grins were already gone.

Without another word, he stepped back, tipping his hat to her before disappearing. No more rain pelted and froze her skin, threatening to tear it apart. The rose-tinted reality had returned, showing the golden rays of twilight and its winds turning back into a woeful melody. A breeze played with her hair as it rushed past her. It was almost as if nothing had happened at all, but she knew better.

Reality would not trick her anymore.