Bump in the Night

BY : Sun-Fox
Category: +M through R > Real Ghostbusters
Dragon prints: 62
Disclaimer: I do not own Ghostbusters or any of its affiliated content. Sun-Fox does not make any money off of this story. She also does not condone unsafe sex practices. Be careful when you have your funtimes!

“Yeah!” said Winston as he entered the firehouse, “Bustin’ really works up an appetite!”


The ghost-busting gang had just returned from yet another mission, another job well done. Returning to the firehouse brought with it coziness and reassurance. It smelled musty at times but that smell brought with it the reminder that it was time to rest and reflect. It was Ray’s turn to empty the ghost-catcher into the containment unit downstairs but he decided to stick around and see what was on the menu tonight. After all, the ghost was locked safely away in the trap. He had no reason to worry about it escaping.


“I’m sure not in the mood for cooking,” said Ray.


“We’re not in the mood for your cooking, at least,” said Peter. He collapsed on the chair behind him and propped his leg up on one of the chair’s arms. He wasn’t the one who was zapped by the proton rays but he certainly looked like he was.


“There’s always takeout,” said Winston, “We’re in the best city for it after all.” He walked over to a table that had on it a pile of takeout menus splayed out in a disorderly fashion. He picked some up and flipped through them as if it were a pile of cash. “Who’s up for falafel?”


“I kind of want subs tonight,” said Peter, “After what we’ve gone through, I really want something familiar, ya know?”


Meanwhile, Egon was not nearly as enthusiastic as the rest. He wiped his brown and sighed, looking more than a bit disheveled. This mission had zapped him of his zest for life, whatever zest he had. He sat on the edge of Janine’s desk.


I swear,” he said, “This job exterminating dead things will be the death of me…”


Janine looked up from her People magazine.


“Everything’s gonna be all right, Egon,” she said. She lightly rubbed his back, “It usually is.” She continued rubbing his back while reading the magazine.


“Aw, Egon,” said Ray. He was always one to bring cheer and comfort to anybody who needed it. “We don’t have missions like that all the time. It’s not every day that we have to battle a rogue demon that threatens to open The Final Prophesized Seal and unleash The Seven Plagues onto the earth. Most of the time, we just get minor demons or mischievous imps.”


Egon took off his glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief. It seemed that, no matter what the man had gone through, he always kept his cool. That was what made him a good leader. But the person that Ray was seeing was dangerously close to losing that cool, like it attempted to slip out of his body every few seconds before he finally got a grip on it again.


“I know, Ray,” he said, “But it’s missions like this that get to me. It’s not like I can take a vacation from a job like this. I’m committed to the duty of saving New York City from any creature that wanders from the other realms. That’s why it’s important for me to schedule some much-needed stress relief. I wouldn’t be myself without it.”


With that, Janine perked up and smiled. Her eyes were on Egon like she was a dog about to get a treat.


“Janine, can you schedule some stress relief for 11:30 PM tonight?”


“Right away, Sir!” She took out the docket and wrote down this event, much more excited than when she schedules anything else.


Out of all the mysteries that Ray encountered in during his job, nothing perplexed him more than what Egon meant by Stress Relief. Egon was normally thorough and descriptive when it came to most things but this task was one in which he was intentionally vague. By “stress relief,” was he talking about yoga? Meditation? Was Janine going to give him a backrub? Knowing Janine, she was more than happy to do that for Egon, although doing so would be difficult with her long, manicured nails. Even if it were these things, it would be strange to schedule it outside of regular work hours when the rest of the guys were asleep.


Ray was promptly interrupted from his thought by the growling of his stomach. This drew him right back to the original conversation.


“How about pizza?” he asked, “I’m in the mood for pizza.”


“We would have to get several more than we planned,” said Winston, “That’s the only way to keep Slimer at bay.”



Later that night, Ray was asleep in his bed as usual, relaxed but always ready to head out on a moment’s notice. Also as usual, he stirred from his sleep at 11:30. It was those noises again, always happening at this time in another part of the building several times a week. It sounded like movement and voices. Ray was always the light sleeper but these noises were just too noticeable. He always managed to sleep through any city traffic that took place outside, including those roaring buses. But for whatever reason, this woke him up. Most of the time, he would lull himself back to sleep, assuming that it was just a hallucination from a hazy dream state. But tonight was the night that he wouldn’t do that. He wanted closure.


He ruled out anything that needed serious attention, like the ghost containment unit malfunctioning. If it were that, the rest of the guys would have been equally bothered by it and most likely have been driven to solve the problem. But the rest of the guys continued to sleep in the darkness… except Egon, who wasn’t there. In fact, whenever this happened, usually one of the guys wasn’t in his bed.


He looked over at his digital clock: 11:30 on the dot. Maybe it was Slimer. He was known to sneak around the firehouse and get into mischief. When Ray sat up, he found Slimer right at Peter’s bed, quietly playing with one of those chinsy marble maze toys. He had his tongue out in concentration as he tilted the toy this way and that. So Slimer had been ruled out as the source of the noise.


Ray got out of bed to do some investigating. He had to confirm that he wasn’t going crazy. As he tiptoed toward the fire pole, the voices became louder. There was no way to safely look down the space around the pole…




The corner of the room had some ghostbusting devices that were gathering dust because they had become obsolete. Right next to the original carrying case for their proton packs was a scope device. The goggle-shaped apparatus led to a tube that could extend in any direction, giving the user an easy way to view inaccessible areas safely.


He strapped the device to his head and pressed the button that gave him night vision. He then sat by the firepole and pressed the buttons that lowered the scope down to the first level. He looked around: nothing out of the ordinary. The Ecto-One was resting in her usual place. The lounging area had nobody and nothing of interest. But then he turned the scope in the direction of Janine’s desk. There. That’s where the noises and voices were coming from. And what he saw next gave him much more context.

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