“Look at what you’ve done to my best suit, you bastard!” JC grabbed the nearest half-melted chair and brought it down on the ghost’s head with all his strength. And perhaps because the Mad Doctor ghost had made the things in the laboratory part of its world, the chair smashed the ghost to the ground. JC hit the ghost with the chair again and again, rage fuelling his strength, and the ghost scuttled away across the floor with JC close behind.
Half a dozen Mad Doctor ghosts hit Melody and Happy from every side at once, forcing them apart. Melody spun and danced, punched and kicked, and held the ghosts at bay through sheer ferocity, for a while. Scalpels and bone-saws cut viciously at her from every side, and every cut came that much closer to getting through. Melody’s fists and feet shot out with deadly skill and furious energy, but none of it did her any good. Sometimes her hands connected with something like flesh and bone, but more often they glanced stickily from a grinning face or sailed right through. The ghosts were only as solid as they chose to be. They faded in and out, even passing through each other as they crowded round Melody. She began to get the feeling that the fight was only continuing because they liked to see her dance.
Happy made a run for it, first chance he got, and the giggling ghosts chased him in and out of the distorted surroundings, cutting at him with their sharp blades, to keep him moving. Every now and again, a ghost would appear suddenly to block his path, and Happy would hit it with a concentrated blast of telepathic disbelief. The Mad Doctor ghost would burst apart in an explosion of ectoplasmic strings, then pull itself back together as Happy ran on. After a while, he noticed that while the ghosts scrambled around and over the maze of enigmatic structures that filled the whole floor, they never ran through any of it. They had entered the physical world and made it theirs, so now they had to follow at least some of its rules. Happy sprinted down a narrow channel, thinking fiercely, and when he got to the end, he stopped and spun around and gave the following Mad Doctor ghosts the finger. They howled with rage and came leaping and skittering after him. He threw his whole weight against the nearest towering structure and forced it over, to fall on top of the ghosts. The sheer weight slammed them to the floor and held them there, and Happy did his special victory dance-only to stop abruptly in mid step as the ghosts began to slowly ooze up through the heavy weight.
Happy looked quickly around him, then froze in place as he realised the far end of the laboratory floor had disappeared. In its place, strange lights flared and flickered in an off-kilter honeycomb of caves and depressions, held together with shimmering ectoplasmic strands. Thick fluids dripped, lubricants for the cells of the honeycomb as they turned and revolved around each other. As Happy watched, new cells slowly formed at the edge of the honeycomb, forcing their way further into the world. Happy stared at it, studying it with more than his eyes, and knew it for what it was. The world the Mad Doctor ghosts had made for themselves, located in the spaces between spaces, so they could hide like rats in the walls of reality. The ghosts had brought their world with them, and it was making itself at home.
A Mad Doctor ghost appeared suddenly before Happy, and he reacted instinctively by kicking it good and hard in the balls. The ghost dropped its bone-saw and crashed to its knees. Happy kicked it in the head, and it fell over backwards.
“The longer they stay in our world, the more bound by its rules they become,” said Kim, drifting up by the ceiling. “That’s what they want-to become real again. They don’t know they’re dead.”
Happy nodded quickly, and picked up the ghost’s bone-saw. It was cold and fragile in his hand at first, hard to get a hold on, but the longer he hung on to it, the heavier and more real it felt. The ghost reared up before Happy, screaming and howling as it reached for its weapon. And Happy cut its head off with one hard blow. The head fell to the floor and shattered slowly, like a smashed egg in slow motion. The headless body drifted apart, like smoke on the wind. The bone-saw disappeared from Happy’s hand.
He looked back down the laboratory, in time to see the Mad Doctor ghosts pull Melody down and swarm all over her. Scalpels flashed brightly. Happy yelled her name and sprinted back the way he’d come. Melody fought as hard as she could, but she was only human, and her attackers weren’t, any more. They held her down with their cold hands, while one of them pressed a scalpel against her belly.
“It’s all got to come out,” said a familiar voice. “The insides are the best part. Flesh is wasted on the living.”
Happy hit the ghosts like a cannon ball, scattering them with his sudden appearance and a telepathic blast of sheer rage and fury. The ghosts were blown away by his fierce concentration and ran madly this way and that, flailing their arms, light glinting fiercely from their surgical weapons. Happy hauled Melody to her feet, and they stood back to back as the Mad Doctor ghosts remembered their purpose and circled them slowly.
“You hurt?” Happy asked Melody.
“I’ll live,” said Melody. “Any chance you can do that again?”
“Not for a while,” said Happy. “That kind of thing takes a lot out of you.”
“Any other ideas?”
“Not really.”
“Terrific,” said Melody.
JC had found Kim. “Is there anything you can do to help? Anything you can see here that we can’t?”
Kim nodded slowly, her head bobbing directly below the ceiling. “The ghosts all look the same to me. They’re all Mad Doctor ghosts-no trace of individuality. It’s like they’ve all been overwritten by something stronger. Whatever they were exposed to didn’t only make them crazy, it made them all crazy in exactly the same way. Someone has taken advantage of that to graft on purpose and intent. Driving them on, like it did the shells. These Mad Doctor ghosts are really just more of the building’s attack dogs, another layer of the New People’s defences.”
She broke off abruptly as one of the Mad Doctor ghosts came dancing along the ceiling towards her. It shot past her, scalpel flashing as it lashed out at her, and Kim cried out in shock and horror as the vicious blade cut deep into her ghostly flesh. Blood-tinged ectoplasm ran down her arm and dripped from her fingertips.
“Paper cuts scissors, doctor cuts patient,” said the Mad Doctor ghost, pirouetting unnaturally slowly in place. “You’re all grist to the mill to us, the living and the dead. Suffering is such sweet sorrow, and we eat it up with spoons. We will cut you all up and put you back together, remake you in our own fashion, to serve our special needs and pleasures. And you will last forever, and your torment will never end.”
“JC?” said Kim. “Please do something. I’m really not ready for a fate worse than death.”
“JC!” yelled Happy. “We’re surrounded! And their world is invading ours! Any suggestions would be gratefully received!”
“Kim says they’re all linked!” JC yelled back. “Can you find that link and break it?”
“Now I know what to look for…” said Happy. He concentrated, and his face lightened a little. “Yes! It’s there! Like a signal, connecting and commanding them. So if I interrupt that signal, like this…”
The Mad Doctor ghosts cried out and lurched in every direction at once, like puppets whose strings had been yanked out of them. Lost, without purpose or identity, they flailed madly, striking at each other and the empty air. They were still dangerous, still foul and malignant, but for the first time they seemed vulnerable.
“Time to go old school, I think,” said JC. He took a phial of holy water from inside his jacket, unscrewed the cap, and poured the blessed water carefully over each of his hands in turn. And then he walked quite deliberately into the midst of the Mad Doctor ghosts and laid those hands on them one at a time, speaking the powerful old Words of Exorcism. The ghosts crumbled and dissolved under his blessed touch, as the Words broke their connection with this world. One by one they vanished, driven out of reality, sent on to whatever was waiting for them. None of them ran, or fought, or tried to avoid his touch. They stood trembling where they were, like rabbits staring into approaching headlights. Until he came at last to the final ghost who held up one hand for him to pause for a moment. It dropped its scalpel, which disappeared before it hit the floor, and pulled down its blood-spattered surgical mask, to reveal a surprisingly human face. The eyes were still tormented but no loner insane.
“Go up,” he said. “Go all the way up. The New People are waiting. But beware. We looked into the Medusa’s gaze. Don’t you make the same mistake.”
JC laid his hand on the ghost’s head, and it faded away, as though it had only been hanging on to say those last few words.
JC nodded slowly and went back to join the others. Kim dropped down from the ceiling to drift along at his side. Happy and Melody were leaning on each other, breathing hard. The laboratory had returned to its original shape and purpose, and the bad world at the end of the floor was gone. JC started to say something, then stopped and looked at the tear in the sleeve of his jacket. The crimson stain was still there, from where the ghost’s scalpel had cut him, but when JC pushed the edges apart, the sleeve was cut and bloodied; but the flesh beneath that was
