Unfinished Bussiness

                                                      Prologue 

General Conditions

• UFBPs are ghosts with unfinished business—think drama, mistakes, or, you guessed it, murder. Dying doesn’t get you out of paperwork. The afterlife is basically the DMV, but with more existential dread—no lollipops or stickers here.
• We’re invisible to the living, which means I get ignored even more than I did in high school. At least now I can hang out with other UFBPs, Bureau agents, and the occasional angel who’s only here for the free coffee and the Wi-Fi.
• If you want the living to see you, you need special permission. That means either body-hopping (bring your own mountain of paperwork) or snagging a hall pass from the Big Upstairs. Spoiler: neither is as fun as it sounds.

Teleportation Protocol

• Teleportation, ghost edition: knock three times, say your destination, and poof. It’s like Uber, but with more existential dread. Five stars for the afterlife.
• You must enter and exit the same way: wall-to-wall, door-to-door. Try to get creative, and you’ll end up stuck in an awkward place. Trust me, you don’t want to haunt a janitor’s closet for eternity.
• If your destination is covered in holy symbols or just has bad vibes, teleportation is a no-go. Even ghosts must respect boundaries—and bad interior decorating.

Possession Limitations

• Possession: one hour max per day. After that, it’s back to ghost mode, no exceptions. Even the afterlife has union rules. Somewhere, Jimmy Hoffa is probably giving a thumbs up.
• You can only possess someone if they invite you, are in crisis, or if demonic interference is present.
• Break the rules or overstay your welcome, and you’ll get kicked out faster than a bad Tinder date. Ghosting, but not the swipe-right kind.
• Leftover ghost energy fizzles in thirty seconds. Stick around too long, and you’re looking at afterlife jail. It’s Orange is the New Black, but with more chains and less Netflix.

Memory Restoration

• Memories come back in bits and pieces—usually when you’re feeling something big, in a familiar place, or bump into someone from your old life. It’s like emotional whack-a-mole, but with more crying and fewer tickets.
• You only find out how you died after you face your killer. No spoilers in the afterlife—Shyamalan would be proud.

Interaction Rules

• We can only mess with Bureau-approved stuff—like their tablets or guidebooks. No haunting the espresso machine, no matter how desperate you are for a caffeine fix. Believe me, I’ve tried.
• Touching unapproved items is a big no-no. Even with demonic energy, Bureau protections sometimes glitch. Don’t ask how I know—my ghost insurance premiums are through the roof.

Supernatural Classification

• Zozo—”Darkness”—is a demon who escaped from the Void, the universe’s supermax prison. No conjugal visits.
• Every lock on the Void needs ritual bloodshed to break—innocent preferred, because demons are sticklers for the fine print. They probably have a lawyer on retainer.
• Red, shiny pupils? Demon. Or someone with questionable taste in colored contacts. Either way, run.

Hierarchy: Now that you know about the players, here are the key agents in order of authority.

• Supervisor: Angelica (celestial liaison between Bureau and higher authority).
• Archangel Support: Zuriel (combat and seal specialist).

Essential Rule

• Rule one: keep the universe balanced. Good and evil are cosmic opposites—mess with the balance and things get weird. Like, reality TV after midnight is weird.

I

I’m dead. No heartbeat, no life—just a ghost. The shock lingers as I keep reaching for a pulse, desperate to feel alive again, wishing it’s a mistake. Not undead, not a vampire—just another spirit doomed to the land of lost socks and missed opportunities. But there’s no upside: I can’t fly, can’t walk through walls with ease, can’t scare anyone. Instead, my new power is invisibility—being ignored, just like in high school. The loneliness is sharp, deeper than before, pressing in until I ache for connection. But I have a goal: I must solve my own murder to move on. Even the word makes my stomach twist: murdered. The afterlife may have McRibs and Wi-Fi, but the only way out is to finish my cosmic homework, trapped in a limbo of what-ifs and regrets.

Death isn’t good for my love life. I feel isolated, longing for connection, but being invisible makes it worse unless she’s a ghost too. Mostly, I can’t move on until I solve the murder—figuring out who killed me is the only way I can leave this limbo. The anxiety tightens; my last night is a blur of fear and confusion. If I don’t solve it, I’m stuck. Apparently, afterlife McDonald’s serves McRibs year-round, so let’s speed this up.

Meanwhile, Nicole Harper sat on her brother’s bed, trembling in silent tears. Who would want to hurt Ron? It felt unreal—he’d always made her laugh, and their bond had been strong through college. She replayed the previous night, searching for answers. After dropping Candy off from the beach party, she’d come back to panicked news: a blonde in a pink bikini said Ron had her pot, and he hadn’t come back. Fear shot through Nicole.

A search began at once. By morning, Ron was still missing, forcing Nicole to tell their parents, who quickly called the police.

II

Elsewhere on campus, Jessica Colon—spotted talking to “Darkness”—made her way to the restroom, ready to act on her plan.

College battered Jessica’s fragile hope. Each failed class felt like another stone on her chest, her mother’s warnings clanging like prison bars in her mind: ‘If you flunk out, don’t come home.’ Shame and desperation wound together. Flirting was no longer a thrill but an uneasy lifeline. Her heart ached for connection, yet her family felt distant—out of reach—and old daydreams of acing ’90s sitcom quizzes only made the loneliness sharper.

Jessica adjusted her makeup for Darren—the boy she thought could help her. Darren wasn’t even his real name before “Darkness” took control. Jessica unbuttoned her blouse, and “Darkness” checked for the hidden knife.

Jessica slicked on lip gloss as “Darkness” planned the moment. She admired her reflection, then left the restroom. The loner waited outside. “Are you ready, honey?” she asked. He nodded. She smiled, and they left the library together into the chilly fall night.

Campus felt empty as Jessica and “Darkness” walked to the dorms. Near the wooded path, he took her hand. “Be careful; it’s slippery.” She nodded and slipped, falling into the brush. “Darren?” she called. Her ankle buckled. “I think I twisted my ankle.” Silence replied.

The chill wind cracked through Jessica’s panic as she stared into the Darkness, heart pounding, ankle throbbing. “Darren?” she called, her voice raw, hope slipping away. Panic spiked—she was lost, alone. A branch snapped again. “Darren, this isn’t funny. I’m hurt,” she pleaded, breath hitching. Dread closed around her like a fist. Another snap—a guttural growl cut through the dark, red eyes glaring back. Jessica barely managed a scream before pain exploded in her throat, warm blood covering her trembling hands as her world slipped away with her last shaking breath.

 

IV
“Dude looks like a lady!” Nicole and I belted along as she drove us to college in her Jeep, windows down, Aerosmith rocking. Her boyfriend called; she pressed ignore, lost in thought. “Oh, Ronnie,” she whispered, and I tried to comfort her, but she only felt a cold draft. The rest of the drive was silent. On campus, we were shocked—it was crawling with cops.

A young cop with big muscles and blonde hair pulled us over to the side of the road leading into campus. “What’s happening?” Nicole asked with a confused look. “I cannot say much, ma’am, but we cannot allow people on campus right now because of disclosure laws; an open investigation is happening.” Nicole and I looked past the police officer at a crime scene unit van parked near the dorms in a distant part of the campus. “Oh my god,” Nicole said, putting her hand to her mouth, knowing the van was not a good sign from her experience with me. “Nobody is in or out of campus right now; please pull over here and make a U-turn,” the officer said, ignoring Nicole’s reaction. “Of course,” Nicole answered, and did as the cop said, making a U-turn under the officer’s guidance.

Invisible, I drifted where police barriers were meaningless, drawn by a cold dread in my hollow chest. Nicole’s Jeep faded behind as I moved through the passenger-side door—no latch, just the ache of passing through. Faces blurred, voices pulsed with shock and grief as I slipped between bustling officers. Cameras flashed, forensics kneeled by the body, and others shivered as cold wind echoed the horror I carried. The dead girl was sprawled and broken, her face young and beautiful—another life destroyed, another family shattered. Grief clung to me as I lingered, wishing I could help or scream or even cry. Then a hand gripped my shoulder, ice shooting through my spirit, terror freezing me in place—reminding me, even in death, fear had teeth.

“Hi,” an older gentleman with long, white hair down to his shoulders said, smiling at me. He wore a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and black sneakers. “Hi,” I answered, a little lost that he could touch me. “You are Ronnie,” the man said. “Yes,” I answered, looking around to see if anyone else was with him. “Awesome, I found the right UFBP,” he said excitedly. “UFBP?” I asked. “Yes, Ron, or do you prefer Ronnie?” he asked as an iPad appeared in his right hand. “Ron, only my family calls me Ronnie,” I responded, perplexed at how the iPad appeared. “Correct, Mother Karen and Father John, sister Nicole,” he said, reading off the iPad. “Umm, yes, who are you? What is a UFBP?” I asked. “Oh yes, I’m Mark, just Mark, one name like Sting,” he chuckled. I didn’t laugh. He ignored my lack of laughter and said, “You’re an Unfinished Businessperson. I’m here to help you solve this crime, and now it seems hers as well, as we are dealing with something unusual with two deaths, not two feet apart, possibly by the same person or persons,” he said as he peered over to a lone girl standing by the tree. “Is that her?” I asked as I looked over at the girl by the tree. “Of course,” Mark said, looking down at the iPad and swiping it a few times. He looked up from the iPad, saying, “Do you think you’re the only person in the spirit world with unfinished business? There are hundreds of you daily; you two are the rare ones who have been murdered, and your type tends to clog up the system without help from us!” Mark walked away in a huff. I followed like a lost puppy, wanting to know more about my place in the world as a person with unfinished business. The handbook does not indicate that I will receive help in this matter.

The lonely girl stood by the tree, hugging herself and watching as her body was placed into a body bag. It’s dark when you look at it that way. “It’s pretty surreal,” I say as Mark and I approach her. The girl looked around at first as if I weren’t talking to her. “He is talking to you…” Mark says, then takes a moment to look at the iPad. “Jessica,” Mark asks to confirm her name on the device. “Yes, you can see me?” she asks shyly. I approach and say, “Yes, we both can.” “Who are you, and who’s that?” she asks, looking at me and then at Mark. “I’m Ron, apparently a fellow UFBP.” I pause, then say, “He is Mark.” “Just Mark. One name, like Sting,” Mark adds with a chuckle. Jessica smiled at his quip. Mark looked at me, winking; I shrugged my shoulders. Mark explained to Jessica what was happening and that the afterlife’s UFB bureau had dispatched him, as they had both been killed by the same person or thing, which was unique to his knowledge. He explained that he was here to help us solve our deaths promptly, as the afterlife does not make it a habit to have too many entities with unfinished business roaming around at once, and murdered UFBPs tend to have a hard time moving on quickly due to not remembering details of who killed them. Mark also explained that, as the living impaired, we can touch one another, which explains why he could touch me. Jessica was on board quickly, which was easier than expected; we got down to business.

“Well, I don’t remember much, except my name is Jessica. I know I have a family, my mom, with whom I live, not from here, and I was a student here, and it’s all a haze after those facts,” she explains. The three of us were sitting on a campus bench, drinking coffee; yes, the afterlife has Dunkin’ Donuts and no guilt, as I mentioned before. I’m waiting on that McRib. Mark notes everything we tell him on his iPad. Steve Jobs was involved in developing iPads for the UFBP bureau’s use. Mark’s name-drop of Steve Jobs was meant to impress Jessica and me. We didn’t fault him for that one.

As Jessica continued to speak, I remembered something about my death. “Red eyes,” I blurt out suddenly. Mark and Jessica both looked at me after the outburst. “My killer had red eyes,” I repeat. I looked over at Jessica to see her reaction. Jessica thought about my statement for a few minutes and then responded, “Yes, red eyes! I remember now; the killer’s eyes were red.” Mark looked at both of us and asked, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” we said in unison. He looked at the iPad and said, “Well, it looks like we are dealing with the supernatural.” “Supernatural?” Jessica asked skeptically.

“Jessica, we are dead, sitting here on a campus bench with an angel on an iPad, drinking coffee, and solving our murders to move on from being UFBP. Do you think it’s out of the realm of possibility that we were killed by something supernatural?” I ask, a bit sarcastically. Jessica thought about it for a moment, then shook her head no, frowning. “So, we are making some progress,” Mark says. He pauses, then adds, “For now, I’m going to return to UFPB headquarters and research some red-eyed demons that could be behind both of your deaths and see why they would kill you both.” I look at him, lost. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?” I finally ask. “Get to know each other,” Mark answers. Jessica looks at me, smiles, and says, “We can talk and see what each of us remembers, and we can help each other”. I think about what Jessica says for a moment. Then I say, “That’s a good idea, but let’s do it with my sister around; I need to keep an eye on her.”
I turned to say something to Mark, but he was gone. “He is not Sting. He is Batman!” I joke. Jessica laughs. I feel rude about thinking about my family and not Jessica’s. “So, do you want to see your family?” I ask. Jessica takes a moment to ponder the question. “I don’t know; I’m not sure I want to see Mom in this state.” It could be painful to see Mom mourning me, but knowing my mom, mourning is her thing,” Jessica answers glumly. I take a moment to respond; I finally say, “It will be more painful if you don’t see her at all, mourning or not.” Jessica smiles, “You are sweet, Ronnie; I wish I had met you when you were alive,” she says.

“Me too, but look at it this way: we have eternity to get to know each other better,” I answer. Jessica giggles. “Let’s drop by your family first; I’ll go with you.” I continue my statement. Jessica smiles. “But how will we get there? We have no car.” Jessica asks. “We can teleport,” I answer. Jessica laughs. “That makes a lot of sense as dead people,” she says, “as dead people.” “Living impaired is more PC, my dear,” I correct her lovingly. She smiles and nods. “You ready?” I ask, extending my hand. Jessica looks at my hand; she takes a moment, then takes it. “Let me show you how to teleport.” “A handbook?” Jessica asks. We teleport before I answer her question.

“Darkness” sat naked on the human-possessed bed, thinking about what was next, though this body offered him much prey due to the many people it knew. The body lacked the physical appearance “Darkness” liked; the fact that the human needed glasses or contacts to see wasn’t appealing to “Darkness.” This human being also had someone he cared about, which surprised “Darkness.” This resulted from the two of them sharing one body and one mind; “Darkness” would get the urge to call this human female they cared about, but she didn’t answer most of the time. “Darkness” didn’t understand what humans called love; it was a strange and foreign concept. “Darkness” sat, thinking about the horrors it would unleash upon humanity once freed from the Void. Love and good were not evil’s true nature, nor was it to save humans; “Darkness” would crush humans in his mighty hands and make them beg for mercy. Once fully free, Hell would rule on Earth, causing persistent pain and suffering to all those who opposed “Darkness” until the great evil escaped and set forth the end times. The human’s cellular phone rang; the human’s girlfriend called them back. A picture of a pretty brunette with a silly smile was set as the call’s wallpaper. What a shame if someone were to cut her lover’s neck, drink her blood, and sacrifice her body to the great evil. “Darkness,” says to itself as it looks at the picture on the phone; “Darkness” smiles, composes itself, and answers the call with the human’s voice, “Hello, baby!”

We visited Jessica’s mom at the house she shared with Jessica, about ten miles from Hamilton Grange’s campus. Thank God for teleportation; more on that later, I promise. Jessica informed me when we arrived at the house that her dad had left when she was young. She did not know where he was, as he had stopped sending letters before her 7th birthday. So, we could not visit him. After visiting Jessica’s mom, we agreed that I’d bring Jessica back to the house so we could get to know each other better and work on our cases.
Additionally, she needed a place to stay while she was a UFBP, as she did not want to live with her mother. When we entered the house via the left wall, Jessica disclosed that she and her mom had not had the best relationship for the last five years. Jessica explained that they loved each other but were distant for many reasons; she did not want to go through them right now because there were too many to count. The distance in their relationship was why Jessica was hesitant to visit at first, yet deep down she knew she had to for closure. By the time we arrived, Jessica’s mom had been told of her daughter’s suspicious death over the phone by a detective. The police had found Jessica’s ID in her bag and then reached out to her mom as the next of kin once they pulled up the information on the computer. Jessica’s mom was in a state of shock as she had to identify her daughter’s body soon at the morgue; this manifested in a lack of emotion. Jessica’s mom sat on the couch in stunned silence, staring blankly at the wall while waiting for the call to meet the police downtown at the medical examiner’s office. Jessica remarked that she was not shocked by her mom’s lack of emotion, as her mom was not a crier and tended to be emotionally cold.

Jessica decided to walk around the house one last time, taking it in, knowing she would probably not see it again. I waited for Jessica in the living room, where she and her mom sat on the couch, staring at a wall. Thankfully, I was transparent, but it still felt weird. Anyway, while I waited for Jessica, I looked at the years of memories from Jessica’s mom’s acting days on display. Jessica’s mom appeared in a comedy TV series on network TV over thirty years ago. I remembered the show from reruns of my childhood, watching it on sick days and snow days; it was from the 1990s. It was funny. Jessica’s mom also had memorabilia from her guest spots on other network TV shows, TV commercials, and roles in direct-to-video movies, including small parts.

Jessica came downstairs about twenty minutes after her tour, ready to leave. Jessica approached her mother, who was now curled up in the fetal position on the couch. Jessica approached her mom; I felt their love for each other, though they might not have been as affectionate as they should have been. Jessica bent down and kissed her mom on the head. Jessica’s mom reacted by pulling a blanket over herself, assuming the cold kiss was just a chill from shock. I heard Jessica say, “I love you, Mom.” She stepped back and then looked at me with a grateful smile. “We can come back if you like,” I said. Jessica thought about it briefly and then said, “That would be nice, Ronnie.” Jessica looked at her mom, whose tears finally began to flow for her. “Yeah, coming back before all this is over may not be a bad idea,” Jessica responded, holding back tears. “No problem; we can return before we finish our business,” I said. Jessica looked at me and said, “Thank you, Ronnie.” “No problem,” I said. I paused, then added, “Seeing family and knowing…”

VII
We returned to my house by stepping through the far-left wall, and this, ladies and gents, is teleportation. Pretty simple. Knock on a solid surface, speak the destination out loud, and then walk through the solid surface you knocked on. You will emerge from a solid surface, like what you knocked on, and walk into the location you called out. As we teleported through the wall, Nicole was downstairs, informing our mom and dad that she’d spoken to Dougie and that they’d meet tomorrow night for a date. She’d be upstairs resting in her room for the rest of the night, as she needed it. Since I had Jessica here and we had business to deal with, I would not interfere in Nicole’s grief process, not that I really could do much. All I could do was watch her cry, kiss, and hug, which she would think was a chill in the room.

Jessica and I walked through the back door, which opened onto the back porch. We talked about our lives and deaths and what we could remember there. I briefly excused myself and went inside to check on the family. I overheard Mom and Dad discussing their worries about Nicole, yet they mutually decided she needed her healing space. “You have a beautiful family,” Jessica said when I returned to the back porch. I agreed, thinking to myself. Returning to the porch, I felt better knowing I had safely left my mom and dad on the couch, snuggling for comfort, while Nicole hugged my pillow in my room, crying to heal. With this knowledge, I answered Jessica, saying, “Yes, and it’s hard knowing I have to leave them eventually.” I looked at Jessica and tried to smile. “Yeah, the whole idea of life after death has changed for me in the last couple of hours,” Jessica responded. “Oh, hell yeah, days for me, but I feel the same,” I replied. We both paused, taking in the moment of two dead teenagers sitting on the backyard porch of my house, tasked with solving our murders. So, we are not stuck as persons with unfinished business; it sounds like a movie plot. After the pause, I broke the silence, suggesting, “Well, let’s try and piece together our last hours and see if we have any similarities.” Jessica smiled and nodded in agreement.

Jessica and I spoke for hours, getting to know each other and discovering much in common. We wished we had known each other when we were alive, yet having a best friend forever in the afterlife was a good thing. We discussed how we were at the beach party the night I died; Nicole, Douglas, who is Nicole’s boyfriend, and I, along with Jessica, were there with her friends. I noticed a hint of recognition on her face when I mentioned Douglas. I let it be, not thinking much about it, since many people around campus knew Douglas, also known as Dougie, as he was a student there too. Jessica and I talked well into the night; since we’re now living impaired, we didn’t need much sleep— in fact, no sleep. We were both surprised when we heard the screams coming from Nicole’s room.

Nicole was back at the beach on the night Ronnie had disappeared. She assumes this is her second chance to find Ronnie before he dies. So, she searched for Ronnie herself; she needed to find her brother alive this time. Besides, all their idiot friends were too drunk and high to help her out. Nicole thinks she’ll be lucky if she finds Ronnie alive this time. She’s of the beach, spacious, with a picnic area bathed in eerie moonlight, lined with trees in the background. The picnic area’s grounds are covered in gravel, which crunches under Nicole’s Nike sneakers as she walks to the woods behind it. An owl hoots in the distance as Nicole walks among the picnic tables. Nicole stumbled upon a body under a red-checked picnic tablecloth as she approached the back row. The red picnic tablecloth covered the body’s face and upper half.

The lower half of the body was fully exposed, covered in blood that was spilling from the crotch area and running down the legs of the body, dripping on the ground below. Nicole knew it was Ronnie immediately because of those damn orange Nikes he loved so much. She gave him the sneakers three years ago for his birthday; he took such good care of them that they looked brand new. They were now covered in blood. Nicole screams with rage, thinking, why was she back here only for Ronnie to die again? The Harper siblings loved each other unconditionally; they fought like cats and dogs, as most brothers and sisters do, yet they protected each other with such passion when it was all over. They could fuck with each other, yet neither one would allow someone to fuck with the other sibling, and Nicole failed to protect Ronnie on this night. As Nicole inched closer to the body, she felt a growing suspicion in her gut; it wasn’t Ronnie. The reality that it had been a dream suddenly hit her. Yet the dream felt tangible to her; she could feel a cool sea breeze on her face and gravel crunching under her feet as she walked across the area. Nicole also smelled sulfur coming off the body, permeating the air. Nicole inched slowly closer to the body under the tablecloth; she noticed it wasn’t Ronnie’s height, but taller than he was. Nicole wanted to stop herself from getting any closer, yet a force was pulling her towards the body. Nicole tried to force herself to pause, but an invisible force pulled her closer to the body, dragging her feet through the gravel. The sulfur smell grew stronger in Nicole’s nostrils as she drew closer, causing her to cough. She tried to resist, but she couldn’t; it kept pulling her until she fell to her knees, the force dragging her across the gravel towards the body on the picnic table, the tiny gravel stones cutting up Nicole’s knees as she dragged. Nicole is pulled to the edge of the table. A growl ripped from the throat of the body on the table, and then a demonic voice boomed, “Darkness wants you, baby doll.” Though demonic, the voice sounded like her boyfriend Dougie’s; Nicole thinks it couldn’t be. The body springs up in front of her like a jack-in-the-box, the tablecloth still covering the body’s face.

“Come to Darkness,” the voice beckoned. The body slowly turned its head and torso to face Nicole. The tablecloth ever so slightly slips down the face of the body on the table. Nicole holds her breath as she watches the tablecloth slowly descend, trying to get away. Nicole cannot move from the spot she has been pulled to as the slipping tablecloth reveals a creature with skin as black as coal, marked with cracks. A blood-red substance oozes from those cracks, now running down the creature’s arms and legs. Big red pupils greeted Nicole as she looked up at the creature; her scream caught in her throat and did not escape. The red substance, not blood, flowed from the creature’s crotch and its whole body. Standing on the picnic table, the demonic creature rose to its full height, taller than Nicole. The creature had claws for hands, long black fingers with razor-sharp nails. The creature reached down to where Nicole was stuck in the gravel below. Using its clawed right hand, it picked up Nicole by her hair; she screamed in pain as the creature lifted her in the air. “Come to Darkness, be with me, serve me as my whore bitch,” the creature bellows. Its mouth opens and closes as it says these words, full of razor-sharp, yellow teeth. Salve drips from the creature’s razor-sharp teeth as it sneers. Nicole screamed as she was getting dragged towards Darkness’ mouth. Its mouth was open, waiting to eat her soul.

Jessica and I watched as my sister jerked up in horror from her bed, the bed sheets clinging to her skin, wet with a cold sweat. “Darkness”! she screams. Nicole jumped out of bed, ran out of her room, and screamed, waking our parents. “What’s wrong?” Our mother asked her as she emerged from their room. Our father walked out, sleepy behind her. Nicole jumped at him just as she had when she was a little girl and had a nightmare. Our father is shocked by this action. “Daddy, darkness is after me,” she cried as she nudged deep into his shoulder. My family stood there, Dad holding Nicole like he did when she was little. “Darkness,” I say, looking at Jessica, who looks scared. “That’s the thing that killed me, and it killed you too!” Jessica exclaimed.

I looked at my family and knew I must protect them at all costs. “Daddy, can I sleep with you two tonight?” Nicole asks our dad. She sounds like she did when Nicole was twelve, and I was nine; though she was the oldest, I was always her protector from monsters and night. After watching a scary movie with Dad, she’d sneak into my room and lie beside me because she was too afraid to sleep alone. “You need to tell me everything you remember,” I tell Jessica. I pause and look at my family again. Jessica nods. “And Mark needs to know,” I add as I watch my parents lead Nicole into their bedroom. “I already know!” A voice says from behind us. We turned around as my parents closed their bedroom door and saw Mark standing there with his iPad. His face said it all, and we were up shits creek without a paddle. “If what Jessica and your sister say is true, we have a huge problem,” he says with concern.

                                                **IX**

So, let’s take some time to review. That’s right: welcome to my very own PowerPoint presentation, minus the clip art (and trust me, you’d rather not see my ghost face on a pie chart). Long story short: I’m dead, but not the cool kind—no moaning, no haunted mirrors, no slow-walking with my arms stretched out like The Walking Dead extras on break. I’m what the afterlife calls “living impaired” (not to be confused with my high school GPA). And yes, I have unfinished business. The ghosts I meet around here come in two main flavors: the tragically romantic type and those of us with cosmic homework—guess which one I am. Spoiler: no one’s writing odes about me.

And lucky me, I’m not wandering purgatory solo. Along for the ride is Jessica (new friend, dead too, great coffee ordered), whose business is as unfinished as mine. Apparently, our killer might be ZoZo, which sounds like a forgotten Teletubby but is way Bigger Bang and less PBS. ZoZo, aka “Darkness,” is this eons-old evil thing, crafted at the dawn of everything to be the universe’s Official Bad Guy—think cosmic Bond villain, no tuxedo required. This is the dude (demon? force of nature? I don’t know, he doesn’t have an Instagram) responsible for every bad thing: Adam and Eve, Lucifer, you name it. The original influencer—and not the kind posting Fenty ads.

So, after ZoZo stirred up a celestial war (the sort of thing you won’t catch on The History Channel), God did what any weary parent would do: sent ZoZo straight to its room, aka The Void. But here’s the twist: ZoZo snuck out a piece of itself. Ever since, it’s been hiding in humanity’s DNA, which explains the existence of group project freeloaders. The universe, much like see-saw partners everywhere, needs balance. God didn’t hit the reset button—he left free will in play, even if it meant half the afterlife support tickets would be about ZoZo’s shenanigans.

Apparently, ZoZo’s on the brink of breaking out (again—this guy doesn’t get parole). To do that, it needs ritual human sacrifices that would make any goth teenager roll their eyes. Every lock holds it back, and of course, blood is the key—because why make do with a standard padlock when you can have supernatural gore?

The punchline? If Darkness gets loose, the universe tips from healthy “yin and yang” to 24/7 “Evil FM.” People scream apocalypse; I wonder if Netflix gets canceled. So yeah—my luck, right? Killed not by any garden-variety maniac, but by an ancient evil hell-bent on cosmic world domination, with me stuck playing spiritual hall monitor.

It was 5:04 AM, according to ZoZo’s human wristwatch. It was a night of hunting, and no one stood out as the next lock breaker. Nicole kept invading her mind all night. It knew there was a connection between her, the human it was possessing, and the young man it had killed a few weeks back as the first kill to open the locks of the Void. Nicole and the young man ZoZo killed were siblings, it is believed. ZoZo wanted to hear Nicole scream, watch the light go out in her eyes, and then destroy her body so it could be whole again. ZoZo closed its human eyes; the body it was in control of got an erection from the unclean thoughts. “So, it will be her then; she will be the next lock breaker,” ZoZo said out loud. “This makes it a lot more interesting now,” the demon within smiled.

Angelica, Mark’s Boss, decided that since we were dealing with much more at stake than just a murderer on the loose, full access to USPF headquarters was needed. So, Jessica and I were granted access to the headquarters. “I thought it would be a lot homier!” I stared, looking at the building before me. Jessica, Mark, Angelica, and I stood outside a run-down, burned-out movie theater in the heart of town, which had not been used in decades since a fire destroyed it. We know why now. “This is one of the satellite sites that allows us never to be too far from the home office,” Angelica responded, walking up to the boarded-up building. “There’s no way in,” Jessica said. Angelica turned around, smiled, and stepped forward; with a whoosh, she disappeared. “Well, now I’ve seen it all!” I responded to Jessica with a smile. She chuckled. I took her hand and said, “Shall we?” “Yes, but I don’t kiss on the first date!” Jessica responded with a sly grin. Mark had already stepped through the portal without telling us, “And here I thought I’d get to second base tonight!” I winked at her, and we stepped through the portal together.

Jessica and I got hit with a blast of white light—think tunnel, but less ‘light at the end’ and more ‘did someone leave the afterlife fridge open?’ When my eyes finally adjusted, I realized we’d landed in what looked like the world’s most aggressively organized office. Desks everywhere, lined up like soldiers, bookshelves stuffed with leather-bound tomes, and angels at every station. Picture a celestial DMV, but with more wings and less patience. Some angels were buried in paperwork, some were deep in books, and a few were chatting—probably about who forgot to refill the holy coffee pot.

Jessica nudged Mark, eyeing the wingless angels. ‘What’s up with the flightless wonders?’ she asked. Mark, now rocking the full angel cosplay—robe, halo, iPad—grinned. ‘Just like Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life. Gotta earn those wings.’ Apparently, that movie is angel-required viewing. I craned my neck, trying to see how far this place stretched. Spoiler: it’s basically infinity. Suddenly, a deep, dramatic voice boomed behind us. We spun around and found ourselves staring up—way up—at the tallest angel I’ve ever seen. If Heaven had a basketball team, this guy would be MVP. He wore a robe, a sword slung across his back, and enough gemstones to make Liberace jealous.

“My name is Zuriel,” he states, putting his palm over his chest in a Roman salute; he then bowed slightly to us. “I’m glad to see you arrived safely with them, Mark, and there is much we must discuss to stop this madness,” Zuriel addresses all of us.

“How are we going to stop whatever is happening?” I ask outright. Zuriel turned to Jessica and me, smiling. “You two are the key to all this, and you two are who’ll stop it,” Zuriel answered firmly.

Nicole didn’t feel like going out with Dougie, but she had ignored him since Ronnie’s death. He deserved some time with her; she couldn’t always be confined to a dark room grieving for Ronnie. Nicole and Dougie had been going out for a little over seven months, and she never thought she’d fall for the shy, loner type of guy. It was always fast cars and bad boys for her; “live fast, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse” was her motto. These days, she didn’t like that motto anymore; that had gotten her little brother killed, and he was copying her lifestyle in a lot of ways. If only she had stayed with him and hadn’t had to take her friend Candy’s drunken self home, Ronnie would still be alive. Nicole had yet to tell Dougie how she felt; he was there and resentful that he had let Ronnie wander off high, looking for her. Nicole told Dougie she’d be back, and why he didn’t relay the message to Ronnie.

As Nicole looked in the mirror at herself, maybe she should bring it up to him tonight at dinner, or perhaps she wouldn’t; it was still so soon after his death that it might not be the right time. Especially with that girl Jessica murdered on campus, rumors were that the two crimes appeared connected; maybe she should wait; maybe their town had a serial killer. “Oh, Ronnie, how I wish you were here; I could use to talk to you right now,” Nicole says out loud. She looks at her Bureau, where a framed picture of her favorite, Ronnie, and her from summer vacation is displayed. She stared at it momentarily, and the tears rolled down her cheeks within seconds.

“Darkness” stood in the mirror, unsatisfied with what was looking back at it. It hated this human body so much that “Darkness” could see that this human did not care for itself. A poor diet of fast food and sugary drinks added 50 pounds to his frame, and he also neglected personal hygiene. The human’s hair was a tangled mess; his beard and mustache had been untouched for months, and from what “Darkness” could sense, the human had cut himself to relieve stress. Scars from previous cutting events were visible all over the human body. It wasn’t that the human didn’t care about himself; it was that he suffered from a major depressive disorder and social anxiety, which the human refused to take medicine for; he instead used pot to relieve the stress. The pot helped in keeping the depression at bay. Yet, it increased the anxiety, which caused the human to cut himself to alleviate it. Increased appetite caused the weight gain. The human had struggled with weight and self-esteem his whole young life.

XI

Jessica and I were about to get schooled in demon removal—less Van Helsing, more ‘Welcome to Your First Day at Exorcism Camp.’ Our instructor? Joel, a plump angel who looked like he ran the afterlife bake sale and probably had strong opinions about office snacks. His desk was a disaster zone: an ancient demon-removal manual, a mountain of HR paperwork about ‘interpersonal demon conflict,’ and a mug of what I can only assume was cold, divine coffee. There was even a Post-It: ‘Don’t forget to file the exorcism forms in triplicate.’ Bureaucracy, it turns out, is eternal. So here we were, learning that ‘Darkness’ had hijacked someone and was on a murder spree to break the cosmic locks. I always figured I’d die in some embarrassing way, but I never pictured afterlife orientation with an angel who probably moonlights as the softball team captain.

“Now one of you is going to have to enter the person ‘Darkness’ possesses and pull it out and bring it out of them,” Joel says. “That should give Mark and Angelica enough time to relock the locks already broken, thus sending ‘Darkness’ back down into the Void,” Zuriel adds. “Well, can’t we just lure him out instead of having to enter the person’s body?” Jessica asks. “Well, going in gives you the best chance of bringing it out, and since you have that advantage, I would do it that way,” Mark replies. “Exorcism is a very long, drawn-out process, and all our priests are busy now!” Angelica adds. “We don’t even know who it is,” Jessica says. “We cannot be running around, jumping in and out of people, looking for this thing!” I add.

I took a moment and then asked, “Can we?” Mark and Angelica looked at each other uneasily and shook their heads in unison. “What are you getting at, Ronald?” Zuriel asks from behind me. I turn to him and say, “Well, I read the handbook after I died when I thought I was a normal, unlived person, you know, before you guys showed up to tell me I was a UFBP and I needed help, and now I need to save the world.” I take a deep breath. “At that time, I planned on jumping into the last people who saw me alive to see what happened the night I died,” I continue. There is a pause among the angels as they consider what I just said. “Okay, and who are they?” Angelica asks, finally. I take a deep breath, then say, “My memory is fuzzy from that night; I vaguely remember hanging with some girl in a bikini who wanted me to hold her pot. Then I think my sister Nicole told me she needed to take someone else home because they were sick.” I pause to think more; all eyes are on me now. Jessica reaches out her hand and puts it on my shoulder, reassuringly. I finally added, “Then I remember walking in the woods with someone, then nothing.” I pause, thinking long and hard, and only one name comes to mind: Dougie. I blurt out his name to the angels.

The whore bitch looks good enough to eat, “Darkness thought to himself as Nicole walked down the front stoop of a modest colonial home. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a white tank top covered by a red flannel shirt, which was open at the top to reveal a modest amount of cleavage. Nicole wore black, form-fitting pants that hugged her hips and buttocks tightly. A pair of black Adidas size six adorned her feet with multi-colored laces. Nicole had a black Michael Kors bag with a pink fur-ball bag charm hanging from her right shoulder. Oversized golden hoops hung from her earlobes; she wore very little makeup except for some foundation and bright cherry lip gloss that Dougie liked. On Nicole’s left wrist was an expensive watch her parents had given her for Christmas, and on her right wrist was a Pandora bracelet with a dozen charms, including several that Ronnie had given her on special occasions. As she entered the Jeep, “Darkness” smelled a sweet rose scent, her chosen perfume.

“Hi, baby,” Nicole says as she climbs into the Jeep. She leaned over and kissed Dougie/”Darkness” on the cheek; she smelled sulfur. “What’s that smell?” Nicole asks, wrinkling her nose. “Oh, the dumbass attendant at the gas station left the gas cap off,” “Darkness” answers. There is a momentary pause, then “Darkness” continues, “I had to stop and put it back on the way here.” “Oh,” Nicole says, taking him at his word. “So, are you ready for a good night?” “Darkness,” asks. He smiles. “I’ll do the best I can,” Nicole answers as she clicks on her seatbelt. “All I ask,” Darkness says as he puts the Jeep into gear. She smiles. “Don’t worry, baby doll, we’ll have a killer good time,” “Darkness” adds. They drove off.

As we moved deeper into the UFB office, it felt more like a movie than real life. The rows of books and desks continued down the brightly lit corridor of the UFB office. Angels of all shapes and sizes sat at desks in the office space. “So, we’re going where exactly?” Jessica asks as we pass the never-ending rows of angels at their desks. “Time is of the essence, so we need a little glimpse of the past to see who ‘Darkness’ is possessing,” Mark answers. “Isn’t that against the guidelines?” I ask, recalling that I read it somewhere in the handbook. “Under these circumstances, guidelines go out the window, and we need to do what’s best for humanity,” Mark responds. “Yes, only the Almighty knows when it’s all going to end, and he doesn’t like people or things trying to start the world’s end prematurely,” Zuriel adds.

We continued to walk until Angelica stopped, turned right, and disappeared with a pop into a wall at a space with a gap in the endless desks of angels. “Hidden portal?” Jessica asks. “Yep,” Mark answers as Zuriel follows suit into the hidden portal. “Can’t have the lower angels knowing all our secrets,” Mark adds, walking into the hidden portal. Jessica looked at me and smiled. “Never knew being murdered could be so much fun,” she says with a giggle. “Hey, you’re getting off easy; I have to pull this thing out of a person,” I reply curtly. She took my right hand, which was cold to the touch, and squeezed it with hers. “Ronnie, I don’t know you as well as I would like, but what I’ve learned about you in a short time is that I know you can do this, and I’ll be right here,” Jessica says sweetly. I smiled at this statement, drawing what would have been a deep breath if I were alive. “One more time into the unknown, my friend,” I said after another deep breath as we held hands. Jessica smiled. “Of course, my darling friend,” she replied. We then stepped into the second portal of the day.

This portal was different; the whole feel was distinct from the first one. Before I knew it, I was all alone. The space surrounding me was initially black, and then a light appeared at the end of what felt like a tunnel. There was no sound here; I couldn’t even hear my sneakers making noise while walking through the tunnel. I instinctively walked towards the light, just as the first caveman did when they emerged from the cave and followed the sun’s rays. Another whoosh enveloped me as I reached the light; I entered a dream-like sequence. The dream was projected as a black-and-white movie from Hollywood’s infancy. The scene was familiar; it was the night I died, and I saw myself walking with Dougie. We moved in slow motion; our mouths moved, but there was no dialogue, like in silent movies. Then I felt fear, hate, lust, and evil; that’s when it appeared in my direct line of sight. It was a black figure, something I hadn’t seen that night. Yet, I remembered Dougie was obsessed with an unseen object. I wanted to leave, get back to the girl in the bikini, and smoke pot; she seemed to be into me. What happened next all occurred in terrifying slow motion. Dougie picked up a rock and hit me from behind, pounding my head in until gray matter and blood seeped from my nose and ears.

The black shape approached Dougie after the attack; it was “Darkness.” It then made Dougie succumb to his dark desires. The creature was slow and sensual as it engulfed Dougie, drawing him into its body through his mouth. Dougie was no longer Dougie once the dark figure took control. It was “Darkness” now; it looked at me—not at my body on the ground, but at me standing and watching the scene unfold. It smiled. “Darkness” tilted its head slowly to the right, like a curious dog; its tongue protruded from its mouth, resembling a frog, and was black and sludgy, with a dark sheen. “Darkness,” whispered something I couldn’t understand in a language I didn’t know.

In an instant, “Darkness” was upon me; I couldn’t move in time to prevent it from happening. It held my head in its rough, demonic hands, its razor-sharp nails digging into my skull. “Darkness” looked into my blood-red eyes and opened its mouth wide, smelling like death—thousands of years of it. As its mouth opened in the shape of an O, “Darkness” rolled its tongue onto me; it licked me and groaned, then said, “Death will release me.” It now spoke English. It pushed my head back as far as it could go, and I thought my neck would break. “Darkness” spoke again, “She’ll die just like you did, and you won’t stop me.” It laughed the most demonic laugh as it leaned its head back. There was a swish, and then I was pulled back into the Void of the portal.

XIV

Initially, I didn’t want to open my eyes because I feared that “Darkness” was still on my chest. My fear broke when I heard Mark’s and Jessica’s voices. “Did you see it?” Jessica asked frantically. I opened my eyes and returned to a long hallway in the UFB satellite offices. “It cannot be,” I said. It took me a few minutes to realize that other angels were all around me. Zuriel put his fingers to his lips as a reminder that others were present. “I saw it, and I know who it is, and my sister is dead if we cannot stop it,” I responded, my voice cracking with fear and anxiety. The group looked at each other. Jessica looked at me with concern. “Who is it?” she asked. “Dougie, my sister’s boyfriend,” I stated. Jessica gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. “It’s going to kill her tonight if we don’t stop the bastard,” I stammered.

“The Darkness” couldn’t wait to tear the whore’s throat out of her pretty neck. The thought of him ripping into her slender throat turned him on. “Darkness” could see her screaming, him putting the knife to her neck, a small incision at first, then the sound of her choking on her blood as it filled her throat. Nicole then slowly died as the light in her eyes went dim. “Are you even watching the movie?” Nicole asked, nudging him. “Darkness” looked at her through the vessel’s eyes, nodded, and whispered, “Yes, honey.” Nicole smiled and took Dougie’s cold hand. She didn’t think much about it since the air conditioner was high up in the movie theater. The “Darkness” couldn’t wait until the movie’s end; it arrived too soon. As “Darkness” and Nicole watched the movie, Jessica, Mark, and the other angels planned to defeat “Darkness.”

I never thought that dying would put me in the position of saving the world, I thought to myself. We had just settled on the plans when we needed to track Nicole down. The angels of the UFB IT department were highly advanced in human technology and could locate my sister via her cell phone within minutes. It was surreal to know that Heaven had ways to keep track of our movements via cell phone; I thought it was bad that the government could do that; this was very scary. While outside the UFB satellite site, Jessica and I took the time to discuss what was next for us. “Once we defeat this thing, what does it mean for us?” Jessica asked me. “Well, since we tied up our unfinished business, I think we will go to Heaven,” I answered. “Yeah, but will we see each other again?” she responded. I thought, “I hope so; I’ve kind of grown attached to your face,” I answered with a smile. She smiled back at me. Mark approached us, iPad in hand, and said, “It’s time.” I took a deep breath again; it didn’t matter; I was dead anyway, yet it felt appropriate for the moment. I looked at Jess and Mark, then said, “Let’s rock and roll!”

Here is your text with grammatical corrections and adjustments for clarity:

XV

Nicole was yammering about how funny and sweet the movie was, as “Darkness,” and the couple walked into the dark parking lot of the movie theater. All “Darkness” could think about was shutting her up and using her blood to open another lock to its freedom. There was a chill in the evening air as they walked to Dougie’s car at the far end of the parking lot. Nicole was still whining about the movie when “Darkness” felt like someone—or something—was watching them. The feeling overwhelmed him, and he squeezed Nicole’s hand, and she yelped in response. He stopped and looked around, mumbling, “Angels.”

“You are hurting me,” Nicole screamed at Dougie. “Darkness” turned around and revealed the demon within to Nicole. Its eyes glowed red, and an animalistic growl ripped from its throat. Nicole’s eyes widened before rolling back into her head; her body became limp like a rag doll. “Darkness” caught her before she fell to the ground with a thud. The demonic Dougie lifted Nicole like a sack of potatoes and threw her over his shoulder. It moved swiftly toward Dougie’s Jeep, its only escape route. As the vehicle approached, the high beams turned on, blinding the driver and causing the vehicle to growl with anger.

With the demon blinded, I took the opportunity to jump—and when I say jump, I mean jump, literally. I leaped through the air, crouching tiger, hidden dragon style, aiming for Dougie’s stomach area instead of hitting flesh and bone. I sailed through its stomach into another world. With a flash of white light, I found myself back at the site of my death. “Darkness” stood there; Dougie stood next to the creature, a zombie-like figure. Nicole’s consciousness was also in this in-between place; “Darkness” had its demonic hands around her neck. It said, “Who do you think you are? You cannot stop me!”

“I don’t know,” I responded. Dougie screamed, “Stop trying to ruin everything!” His scream pierced the dream-like state. “Darkness” smiled and said, “You’re not going to be able to stop me, human!”

“I can sure try,” I replied. The creature sneered, showing its rotten green teeth. While at the UBF, specific instructions had been given on how to send “Darkness” back into limbo. I couldn’t do anything until I released Nicole’s and Dougie’s consciousness.

I had an idea to get “Darkness” to release both hostages, but I got stuck in my spot. I couldn’t move or speak. Before my eyes, the consciousness of Jessica and Mark appeared, followed by an unknown man in black. Mark and Jessica were upset by the man’s presence. They looked at me in distress, and they walked to my side. The man walked past me and looked at me with eyes that made me feel safe and terrified at the same time. “Darkness” looked at the man in black with utter adoration. It released Nicole and Dougie’s consciousness without hesitation, and they walked toward us, standing in utter confusion.

Dougie suddenly returned to his old self, and Nicole looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Can I hug you?” she asked. “I don’t know yet, but you can try,” I answered with a lump in my throat. We could embrace, so we did. Mark and Jessica stood beside us. Jessica took my hand and rested her head on my shoulder. I looked at Mark; it said it all in his eyes: the Boss wanted the world to end this way, and there was no stopping it. It was that time, after all.

As the silence dragged on, I looked at our little afterlife squad and the incoming horsemen of doom and muttered, ‘Well, if the world’s ending, at least Sallie Mae can’t find me.’ Jessica snorted and nudged me. ‘Perks of being dead, Ronnie. No afterlife credit score, either.’

“It’s how it’s supposed to be, then,” I asked as I hugged Nicole and held Jessica’s hand.

“How’s what supposed to be?” Nicole asked.

“The end of the world,” Dougie answered, his voice returning to normal. He knew it was the end of the world without anyone having to say a word. We looked at him as a group; his eyes were fixated on his demon capturer and the man in black as they exchanged pleasantries.

“That’s the angel of death,” Jessica said, lifting her head off my shoulder. “The others are coming,” she added. I knew what Jessica meant: the other four horsemen of the apocalypse were coming our way. Jessica looked at Nicole and smiled. Nicole smiled back. Although she was unsure who this girl was, she smiled since Jessica was with me. Jessica rested her head back on my shoulder. I looked at Mark, who was observing “Darkness” and the angel of death; he said, “The Angel of Death is about to open the last of the seals keeping ‘Darkness’ in the Void, which will allow Hell on Earth as evil will reign supreme for a period.” Mark paused, then continued, “Angelica sent me word from the Boss a few minutes before the Angel of Death appeared.”

“All of the UFB was shocked by the memo; it simply stated, ‘The time has come for the end; the apocalypse is here, brace yourselves.'” He added. It sank in fast; Nicole quickly understood what this all meant. She came in for another hug from me. “Is this a dream or the end of the world?” she asked me.

“It’s a long story, but it’s the end of the world; I will explain everything soon,” I answered. Nicole nodded.

“What’s going to happen to us?” I asked Mark. He paused momentarily, then said, “When ‘Darkness’ unleashes Hell on Earth, even the angels do not know what will happen next,” Mark answered.

We all stood together, watching and waiting.