Author's Summary Edit
There are many things that are unknown to mankind, things that may never be answered. One of those things are paranormal entities.
And that's why there's P.I.E., Paranormal Investigators Extraordinaire, the dynamic duo of Johnny Ghost and Johnny Toast. In their time they have encountered a variety of foes, including the villainous Toilet Toucher and the seemingly innocent--and flirty--Aimee.
But there is one that outranks them all: Jimmy Casket.
And now, Casket is mad. Burning mad. He has been outwitted time and time again by P.I.E., but this is the final straw. No more mess-ups. No more mistakes.
Only death, terror, and destruction. Lots of it.
The knife plunged deeply into the man's throat, and his muscular bulk collapsed.
What an idiot! To think he could take ME! Casket thought to himself, laughing over the dying man, who was grasping at his bleeding neck. "H-help me!" he cried out, reaching up to his companion, who was huddled back farther down the alley. She was wearing the usual apparel for a twenty-something girl: very revealing apparel. The jock, still bleeding out, was outfitted with a tight shirt, featuring his bulging muscles. But they were no match for Jimmy's knife.
Jimmy twirled the knife around in his hand, humming a happy tune to himself. He began to stroll down the alleyway, and then he looked over his shoulder to the bleeding man, tears forming in his eyes. "Oh, did I hurt you?" Jimmy asked, smiling wickedly. The man looked up in terror. "I'm sorry!" Jimmy said, and then jumped down, digging the blade into his body.
He laughed wickedly as he tore the flesh open, and more blood spilled out. The man's eyes bulged, and then he rolled over, dead. Casket laughed once more, and then stood up, looking to the girl. She was in terror, still huddled up down the alley.
Casket smiled, walking down the alley. "Come on, now," he said, gripping the handle of the knife tightly. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
Johnny Ghost's eyes popped open. "Oh no," he whispered to himself, sitting up in bed.
Chapter I - Follow-Ups Edit
Johnny Toast grabbed the two pieces of toast as they popped out of the toaster oven. He glanced over his shoulder to see Johnny Ghost, wrapped in his bathrobe, marching into the kitchen, rubbing his frazzled hair.
"Good morning, sir!" Toast called out, piling the toast on his plate. "Wait...this is french toast...what the heck..."
"What was that, Johnny?" Ghost asked, yawning as he took a seat at the dining room table. "Oh, um, nothing, sir," Toast replied, marching to the table with the plate of toast in hand. He didn't want to mention that he hadn't put french toast in the toaster...if Ghost were to get any thoughts that their old French friend was back, then all hell would break loose.
Ghost looked to the plate of french toast as Toast placed it down. "French toast, huh? I never knew you knew how to make it!" he said, glancing up to his partner. The Brit shrugged, sitting across from him. "It's a, erm, old recipe I dug out of a cookbook, sir." Ghost nodded, digging into the breakfast meal. Toast sat before him, sitting in silence.
After a few bites, Ghost looked up to Toast. "What's the matter, Johnny?" he asked, pointing to the french toast. "It's really good. You should try it!"
Toast chuckled, and then grabbed his eating utensils. He paused, only to see Johnny do the same. Flashing a smile at his old friend, Toast leaned inwards, gulping a mouthful of french toast.
"Well, you see, both the man and woman were stabbed to death by someone armed with a knife. He must've been a maniac."
Ghost glanced up to the police officer. "Anyone who did this had to be a maniac, Officer." The policeman nodded to the paranormal investigator, who circled around to inspect the stab wounds on the female. Her clothing had been torn, and many inch-long--and even longer--marks were spread across her body. "It's strange, though; usually when someone attacks two people like this, they usually would rape the girl."
Toast looked to the officer with his arms crossed. "Excuse me, Officer, but this is no ordinary psycho. He's a bit--" he started, looking to Ghost, and then continued, "--more twisted than most killers." The cop shrugged. "I guess so. You two seem to know this fella pretty well." Ghost stood up to look at the face of the dark-skinned, athletic law enforcement officer. "Officer Barnes, we know this man too well."
The investigator glanced to his partner quickly. "Let's go, Johnny. We've got some work to do."