Chapter Text
Roundhouse kick, jab and cross, uppercut… Thump, thumpthump thump!
Valerie tried to focus on the rhythm of her deliberate movements as she danced around the punching bag suspended in the corner of her bedroom. Sweat trickled down her neck but her breathing remained steady.
Double-side kick, jab and cross, back kick… Thumpthump, thumpthump, THUMP!
She turned her whole body for the back kick and looked over her shoulder with satisfaction as the bag swung wildly on its hardness from the blow.
Valerie and her dad couldn’t afford for her to attend her martial arts classes anymore, but at least she still had this . She had sold and sacrificed everything to pull their lives back together after her dad lost his job at Axion Labs, but her punching bag was the one luxury she had allowed herself to keep. She had justified it at the time as an investment in her newly found ghost hunting career…
Ugh! Ghosts. Even as she tried to remain focused on her punching bag, her thoughts rolled down that familiar thought spiral once more, gathering momentum as they went. This mess had all started with ghosts!
Thumpthump!
Mr. Masters had kickstarted her ghost hunting career by gifting her ghost hunting gear, anonymously. That should have been her first warning sign, but no!
Thump!
She had taken the gear happily, done his bidding willingly! She had been so angry at ghosts back when her life was falling apart, and Mr. Masters had twisted that frustration to convince her to do his dirty work for him. She could see that so clearly now!
Thump, thumpthump!
Every time she had skipped school, put herself in danger, lied to her dad, sustained bruises and plasma burns, let friendships and relationships slip away… and all for what? All so she could go ghost hunting for Mr. Masters.
Thumpthump!
He had showered her with praise, encouragement, and even bounties for her efforts to rid Amity Park of ghosts. But Mr. Masters had not cared about the greater good at all as he claimed, had he? No! All that time, all that time, he had been a ghost himself! Vlad Plasmius, the worst, most selfish, most twisted ghost of them all! And he was a billionaire, and now the Mayor of Amity Park, and, and…
Valerie let out a yell of pure frustration as she leapt into the air and landed a spinning roundhouse kick squarely on the side of the bag.
THUMP!
She landed lightly on her feet, but the perfect execution did not lift her mood. She just felt so stupid . Valerie pulled off her protective gloves and flopped down on the floor, watching absently as the punching bag swung in smaller and smaller circles as it settled back into its resting position.
All this time she had been so sure of herself and of her purpose, but the instant she had witnessed Mr. Masters transform into Plasmius (all while making disparaging comments about her behind her back, lest she have any lingering doubt about his true intentions) Valerie’s whole ghost hunter identity had evaporated, leaving nothing. She didn’t know what to do or how to feel. Well, objectively she still knew she was good at hunting ghosts , but was she a good ghost hunter ? She didn’t know anymore. When she thought about her past ghost-hunting accomplishments now, she just felt dirty.
Valerie’s cell phone beeped with a new message. Absently, she flipped it open to check the notification. As soon as she saw the sender, her stomach dropped. It was from Mr. Masters. He had a new mission for her.
Heart pounding, she prepared everything she would need to go meet Mr. Masters; it would be her first time seeing him face to face since she unwittingly learned about his secret identity two weeks ago. He never saw her spying on him that day. As far as he was concerned, his secret was safe. Theoretically, she still had the upper hand there. She had to confront him. Be he ghost or human, she had to make him pay for his treachery. She owed herself that much at least, not to mention the wellbeing of Amity Park.
Valerie suited up and did a final sweep of her bedroom, but finding no further excuses to delay, she activated her hoverboard and was off through the bedroom window and into the twilight evening beyond. She didn’t have to consult her suit’s map display to know the way to Mr. Masters’ mansion; Valerie had traversed this route many times before. But, if all went well tonight, this time would be the last.
“Ah, if it isn’t Amity Park’s number-one Ghost Hunter arriving right on time” said Mr. Masters smugly as Valerie approached his desk. The vaulted ceiling of his mansion’s drawing room towered above them, but to Valerie, the space felt claustrophobic. This was it. This was her chance, while she had the element of surprise.
“Always happy to be at your service, Mr. Masters” replied Valerie. Her heart was pounding.
“I have a very important job for you,” said Mr. Masters. “It’s nothing flashy this time, but of extreme importance.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a small box which, at a glance, looked like an ordinary jewelry box. “This box contains something very important to me, but alas, I seem to have misplaced the key,” he said mournfully. “As fate would have it, a ghost has discovered my sentimental weakness, and out of pure spite and hatred is determined to steal it from me! I need someone strong and discreet and feared by all ghosts to keep it safe for me until I am able to open it.”
He offered the box to Valerie, a wicked smile plastered on his face. She hesitated for a moment, willing her hand to reach for the ecto-blaster on her hip… but instead it reached for the box, accepting it from Mr. Masters’ outstretched hand. “Those nasty ghosts need to stay in the Ghost Zone where they belong instead of bothering an upstanding citizen like you! I won’t let you down, Mr. Masters.” She heard the words come out of her own mouth, but it felt like they were being spoken by a stranger. She could hardly breathe.
“Very good!” said Mr. Masters, rubbing his hands together. “Once I steal that blasted key!.... I mean, once a poor old man like me remembers where I put my key, I will have a very special gift for the town of Amity Park as a thanks for your help.” He settled back in his chair with smug satisfaction. “Just remember, this box is our little secret. I wouldn’t want word getting back to any ghosts about its whereabouts.”
Mr. Masters is a ghost! Mr. Masters is the mayor! Mr. Masters is a powerful, evil, man… She wanted to rush him fists raised, but her feet stayed melded to the floor. “Of course, Mr. Masters, you have my word,” said Valerie. She felt lightheaded. Surely he would notice, somehow sense her fear.
A silence stretched between them. Dimly, Valerie realized this was her cue to leave. It was now or never…
…
Valerie left.