Best Served Cold

Day One: Acceptance

Note: Zim is off in the corner of my mind laughing madly at Arthur because Zim finally gets a break from me… don’t worry my mad little muse, I’ll be back for you later. The characters in Mystery Skulls – Ghost do not belong to me, they belong to MysteryBen and Artsy.

……………………………………..

            Arthur’s eyes squinted open. Mystery was pacing the wall in front of him, back and forth over and over.

             Not the wall. He pushed himself up from the floor. Mystery was pacing the floor now. Perspective could do wonders for perception. The dog turned, barking at him, ears swiveling forward, tail straight and stiff with anxiety.

          One week.

             Oh. That’s why he was on the floor. And if Mystery was worked up, then he hadn’t been hallucinating. Glancing over at the table only confirmed the dread building in his chest. Two skeletal handprints burned into the tabletop.

             “Well,” he said hollowly, “That’s that then. One week. What am I supposed to do with one week?”

          Mystery shook his head, barking angrily.

            “You can’t save me from everything buddy.” Especially not from things I deserve. He stood to his feet, turning to approach the fridge. He opened it, perusing the contents. He pulled out the Tupperware from Vivi’s earlier intrusion. “No sense being half starved when he comes for me. He’ll probably want some sport or something.” The Tupperware was trembling. Why was it trembling? “Some payback. Make me squirm before he ends it.” He wasn’t holding it anymore, it was on the floor, its contents spilled on the ground. “I wonder what ghosts do when they get the person they hate most in their power.” His chest felt like it was going to explode, and his breathing came in erratic gasps.

            Pain flashed up his ankle, snapping him out of his panic. Mystery loosened his jaws, removing his mouth from Arthur’s ankle, and grabbed his pant leg, pulling. Arthur let the dog lead him into the living room. Mystery hopped up onto the recliner where Arthur had spent the past three days sitting, and thrust a paw at a framed photo that stood on the nearby end table.

            In between sleeping, wallowing in self pity, and locking stares with his dog, Arthur had studied the photo. The frame had been a gift from Vivi, and the photo from Lewis. It was one of those stupid photo-booth selfies the four of them had taken. Lewis had blown the goofiest one up large enough to fit a frame, and they’d given it to him as a combined graduation present, right before they started their group. Currently, Mystery’s paw was pressed squarely in the middle of Vivi’s face.

           “No buddy, there’s no way I’m telling her what happened.”

           Mystery growled, pushing his paw at the photo again, once at Vivi, once at Lewis.

          “She can’t help me with Lewis because I can’t tell her what happened!”

            Mystery let loose a barrage of frustrated sounds, barking intermixed with higher yaps and ki-ki-ki sounds that Arthur was fairly certain most dogs couldn’t make.

            “I don’t care if you don’t like it!” Arthur shouted back. “You’re not the one who screwed up, alright? You didn’t kill your best friend! If all you’re going to do is bite me and shout things I can’t understand, then you should go stay with Vivi for a week. Come back and build a nest or a den or whatever when I’m not here anymore!”

            Mystery fell silent, ears drooping. His head bowed, and Arthur immediately regretted his anger.

             “I’m sorry.” He sat on the floor in front of the chair, fingers tracing the scratch marks on the hardwood. “I don’t know what to do. And I almost don’t want figure a way out. He’s got every right, and you know it.” He could feel the shame, hot and leaden in his gut.

            Mystery hopped off the chair, pushing himself under Arthur’s arm and pressing tightly against his side. Arthur gathered the dog close, cradling him to his chest. “I don’t know why you picked me to look after buddy,” he whispered, “And I really do appreciate you trying. But this isn’t your deal. I gotta face him. Maybe if he kills me he’ll be able to rest. Maybe I can do that much for him.”

            The dog whined a thin protest, burying his face in Arthur’s chest and pawing at him. He sighed. “Look… think of it this way, I’ve only got a week left, right?” Even as he spoke the words, a little of the heaviness slipped away. “If I’ve got a week left, then I have to make the most of it. So what say we go spend some time with Vivi chowing at the diner and planning one last ghost bust?”

             Mystery’s head dipped in reluctant agreement. Arthur scratched him just under his left ear. “Knew I could count on you. We can sort out the rest later in the week. For now, let’s just forget about this for a couple of days, okay? Can we do that?”

             Again the dog’s head dipped, slowly.

             “That’s my boy.” Arthur ruffled the top of Mystery’s head. The dog hopped off his lap as he stood, stretching. A visit to Vivi would mean actually getting dressed, not his household sweats and tank. It was odd how much lighter he felt, now that his fate was cemented. He didn’t have to worry about it so much, or feel guilty over something he would be able to do penance for.

             He was almost looking forward to the ghost bust. Maybe he could whip up that ectoplasm detector Vivi wanted so badly, it would only take him a few hours at this rate. The gears were already churning on how to make it work, and he could make it match her hair too. He chuckled on his way back to the workshop. Having a death sentence wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be.