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Mesa was frozen completely in place behind the haunter as he watched the scene play out. In his head, over and over again played the mantra 'This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real' as he tried hard to believe that it couldn't be real. But he could see THROUGH her! How could that be faked?! This was impossible, this couldn't be happening. He just wanted his money and to get the hell out of this place.

Before he knew it, he had latched on to the haunter's arm, a desperate plea to be grounded into the real world, along with a cry for help that got caught in his throat. He couldn't speak, it could be the spirit's doing, or more likely just that he was so terrified that words died out before hitting his lips. Mesa didn't believe in ghosts, he didn't believe in the supernatural, and he hadn't believed that death was possible to come out of this game. But seeing this singing girl changed everything. He could die here! He didn't want to die here.

He let out a loud screech, one that everyone in the house would have heard, and then began to ramble incoherently with wide scared golden eyes at the haunter. After taking a few deep breaths he was finally able to speak words that could be understood, "I don't know what the hell that was, but I want no part in this!" he was waving his shaking hands about as if to wipe himself clean of this whole situation that he had put himself in, <******** the money, I'm getting my brother and getting the hell out of here." and for once, money didn't matter, he wanted to be with his brother, and he wanted to be out of here. He only prayed that his brother was alright, and that he would find him, and that they would get out this place together.

The mesprit turned around, rushing towards the pull down stairs that led out of the attic. But when he reached that exit, it was soon blocked by the appearance of the singing girl, out of nothing she appeared, with a sinister grin on her face. He was like a deer frozen in the headlights of oncoming traffic when she reached out for his face, holding his cheeks in two tiny cupped hands. Then suddenly, SNAP, "Pop goes the weasel!" she sang and giggled, as she released his face, having snapped his neck. His body thudded on the floor of the attic, blood spilling from his open mouth.

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Moments later, he jolted awake, clutching his chest as he could feel his heart slamming against his ribcage. 'Was it a bad dream...?' But then he quickly remembered, his twin had been there! He looked to the bed beside him, no Zeph. "Zeph!" he shouted. But then found his twin to be close by, beside the bed. He jumped up and embraced his twin, crying on his shoulder, still shaking like he'd just seen a ghost. Because he had. He didn't understand what happened, but he knew that he and Zeph would have lots to talk about, but that would have to wait for another day. For now he just wanted to hold him, to know that they were still alive. And he would have to re-evaluate the true value of money and of life.

Edan was snapped out of his terrified delirium and back into the real world as his companion fussed over his wrist. The vulpix quickly released him, pulling his hand to rest over his nearly bare chest. His heart was racing, he could feel the beat of the muscle pounding beneath his flesh. He could feel is own racing pulse throughout his body as if the veins were ready to burst, adrenaline certainly coursed through through them like madness that now raced through his head.

And then a screech, he heard the loud cry from upstairs and as soon as he heard it, he bolted for the door - more out of instinct than a compassion for anyone in the house. But just as he neared the top of the stairs, the door slammed shut and a gust of harsh cold wind knocked him back down the stairway that was now darker than ever. Reaching the bottom, slammed on his a**, Edan jumped up quickly, rushing to the nearest table and snatching up the first thing his hand found - a big butcher knife. He held it up as if he was ready to use it as a weapon. "Where the ******** are you?!" he shouted out to the spirits that he now knew lurked in the shadows.

He could barely even see, as his eyes tried to adjust in the darkness, luckily though that mess of purple hair was bright enough to be just visible in the darkness so that he wouldn't mistake the rock star for a spirit. He turned round and around looking into the nothingness of the darkened room as though he could fight off whatever it was that waited there, with obvious rage and hatred.

(( Sorry for all the vulgarity in this one, I just think in a situation like that Edan would curse like a sailor. I usually try to keep the curse words a lot less than this xD ))

Edan spun around wildly, flailing the knife at the figures that now surrounded him. His heart was still banging in his chest, making it impossible to think clearly at all. <******** off!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, always resorting to anger when he was scared, and he really was terrified. And then he heard the sableye calling out his name, it shook him just to hear it and he just knew that it meant something bad was going to happen.

He twirled round to face where the sableye was and caught the sight of a figure grabbing the boy in the dark, just barely visible. "Salem!" he yelled out, but it was too late. The dark demented figure now pressed the boy into spikes. Edan could feel the salty liquid spilling down his cheeks, "What the ********> he shouted, demanding an answer, anything to make this night make sense. He hadn't wanted to see anyone die, he didn't want to die. This was all so messed up. The money wasn't worth it, none of this. He shouldn't have come here.

His temper began to boil again, in response to the fear that was shaking his entire body. <******** you!" he called out in the dark as the figure shoved the rock star on the device, spikes protruding from his tiny body now. Edan hurled the butcher knife that he'd previously been holding tightly. And just as it flew through the air, the figure vanish, and the knife stuck into Salem's bony chest. "God..." he muttered before just rushing back up the stairs, he just wanted to leave, he didn't want to be here anymore.

But upon reaching the top of the stairs, the door shot open and there was the butler. Edan froze in place, a mix of fear, hate, and anger boiling beneath his skin. "You won Edan Kinley. The others are all dead. Time to collect your prize." spoke the old butler, and in that instant Edan blamed the man for everything, he must have planned this, he knew no one would take the warning seriously. "You b*****d!" but just as soon as the shout left his lips, he felt an intense pressure push through his skull, right between his eyes. The last thing he saw before it all went black was the gun held to his head by that wretched old man.

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With a jolt he shot up in his bed, eyes wide and bloodshot, his hands balled up into fists that clutched at the bed sheets beneath him. And right in front of his eyes, was his name in neat handwriting. "A check...?" he stared at it, the check that hung from a string that was taped to the ceiling above his bed. And then his mind was sent reeling back into memories of the night. It all had to be a trick, an illusion something. That was what he though.

The next day, after he'd calmed himself and was thinking rationally again, he went to the bank to see if the check would bounce. When it didn't he was not only in shock, but left with a billion and one questions. He started a new account at that bank right then, having never kept one open before. He deposited every penny, promising himself that until he knew that the money didn't have blood paid for it, he wasn't going to use a cent of it. Choumo, Zeph, Mesa, Shin, Apple, Zoey, and Salem.. who were they really? Where were they? Were they dead all for the money that Edan now had safely put away in a bank?