P.I.E - A Limey Rivalry

Part 12 - A Crimson Beacon

Ghost was experiencing déjà vu. He wasn't expecting a drastic difference compared to the last corridor they were in, but this new passageway was completely identical to the last: the walls were still cobblestoned; the space they had was just as stifling; and it was still one long corridor. He imagined it would be seriously easy to get lost, if one didn't know the layout of the place. "Wait".

Ghost froze. This time, Bryn bumped into his back. The certain individual in question became noticeably more alert and looked over the smaller man's shoulders. "What is it? Did you see something? Did you see a ghost?" Bryn asked a series of questions excitedly, guessing Ghost's reason for stopping was similar to his own.

"No," Ghost said simply. After a second, he looked back at Bryn. "I just thought... we don't know how large this place is. We also don't know the design of this place. If we don't keep track, we might not be able to find our way out again."

Bryn smirked, "I see you're a cautious fellow. So far, we've made one left turn into a hidden passageway and you are already scared about getting lost," Bryn said jovially, making Ghost blush from mild embarrassment. "Although," Bryn murmured, "I do agree with you. We should think of a way to mark our steps."

"Should we go back?" Ghost asked. He imagined Bryn might have something for an emergency like this, but it would have be stored in his van.

Bryn rubbed his chin thoughtfully, causing the stubble to produce scraping sounds. A moment later, he snapped his fingers again before going through his jacket pockets. His hands emerged, clutching small cartons of something.

Ghost cocked his head in confusion. He wasn't sure what Bryn was going to do, which intrigued him.

"How's this for a mark?" Bryn said, taking out a small paintbrush and spreading a considerable amount of the content onto one of the walls. It had a strange red colour and its texture was a mix of thick and runny. Ghost honestly thought Bryn had resorted to spreading jam on the walls. Why would he carry jam around with him, Ghost contemplated, Are all Britons such eccentrics. Ghost had caught Toast bringing crumpets and a flask of English Breakfast Tea to their missions, on occasion. Maybe Bryn took food with him, as well.

Bryn finished his work and turned back to Ghost, proudly holding his arms behind his back, his eyes swiftly shrinking as he looked into the beam of the flashlight. The two stood in silence for a moment; Bryn was waiting for Ghost to be impressed while Ghost was waiting for an explanation.

At last, Ghost decided to talk first. "How is that meant to help?"

Bryn seemed genuinely confused for a second before he realised why Ghost was puzzled. He looked back to the mess he made on the wall and saw that Ghost was still shining the flashlight on it. "Turn the torch off," he ordered softly.

Ghost gradually did as he said. Once the flashlight was off, Ghost could only see pitch-black. He wasn't surprised by that at all. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, causing the atmosphere to become deathly quiet to the point of being torturous.

After a few long moments, Ghost's sight had adapted enough to see something through the otherwise dominant gloom. A brilliant crimson glow was emanating from the substance that Bryn had put on the walls. Ghost also noticed that Bryn had drawn out a comical-looking ghost out of it. It did look quite amusing and Ghost scoffed when he spotted it. Bryn stood to the right of the marking; the illumination from the crimson ghost caused Bryn's right side to be outlined. Ghost recognized his signature smirk he made when he wanted to show off.

"Glow-in-the-dark gel, Ghost," he stated. "It was created by a friend of mine. It's meant for these types of situations."

"You could've thought of that sooner," Ghost stated, folding his arms and puffing his cheeks out despite knowing that Bryn couldn't see him.

"What can I say," Bryn lifted his hands up, sarcastically pretending to defend himself, "this is actually the first time I've used it in months."

"Why's that?" Ghost asked, "Not enough creepy dark basements in your line of work?"

"No, it isn't that." Bryn turned away and coughed before speaking again, appearing – from Ghost's less-than-decent perspective – embarrassed. "The problem is that – thanks to both its colour and texture – it looks exactly like ectoplasm. In fact, ectoplasm also glows in the dark. Even when I did need to use it, it would usually be covered by the ghost to mess with me. As you can imagine, I started considering the stuff useless."

Ghost couldn't help but chortle at that, making Bryn cough more while turning as red as his obsolete gloop. "Did your friend even know that, when he was making it?" Ghost asked giggly.

Bryn just shook his head, trying to compose himself. "Yes, I did have a very thorough discussion about it when I next saw him after the first few times.

"Luckily, I haven't seen any trace of ectoplasm yet. So, fingers crossed, the ghost down here is not capable of producing any and we'll be fine. Our glowing beacons should be safe from any vandalism." Bryn placed his hand next to the red gel as he leaned against the rough stone wall.

"Perfect." Ghost turned, intending to continue forward.

"Actually, Ghost, before you move on," Bryn called. He then pointed behind the two of them, down the way they had come, "we should probably illuminate the way we came. Just in case."

Ghost stared at the red outline of Bryn's right side. Then he looked back to a void of black. Ghost hadn't turned the flashlight back on yet.

Ghost huffed and dryly chuckled, "Now who's afraid of getting lost." He walked back with Bryn, making their way back to the hidden door.

Bryn replied, "Once again, what can I say‽ After all, you did plant the seed of concern into my head. I'm just making sure you won't regret anything later."

As like before, Bryn was in front and Ghost held the rear. They moved without a sense of caution this time, smiling and chatting with one another as they went.