His name is Blue. No one knows how he aquired this name, whether it's a first or last name or simply a fond nickname that stuck. But they know he's an Inpector for the D.I.S.C and that he's sniffing around Spyro on some case. A case to do with ghosts re-entering the Life Sphere.
“Who brought Ed back to life?” demanded Blue forcefully. He jumped up from his chair and leaned into the group of ghouls before him. He shifted nervously, not meeting his eye. Blue removed his wide brim hat and ran his fingers through his chin-length blonde hair. His piercing blue eyes narrowed as he took in the leader of the ghoul’s appearance.
Boil was the ghoul’s name. His mottled pale green skin was illuminated under the street lamps. Blue noted that he looked exceptionally nervous. Boil hopped from foot to foot and twitched his stump of an arm. For a moment Blue wondered how Boil lost his right arm. Boil squinted his beady black eyes at Blue and wiped his flat brow.
“Look man…” he started licking his wide green lips. Blue raised a hand to stop him.
“Inspector will do” he corrected staring directly into Boil’s eyes. Boil coughed and rearranged the few strands of hair on his round, shiny head. It reminded Blue of the flickering light bulb in his room that was crushed to dust yesterday.
“Right. Inspector” Boil continued, “Ed was always the dreamer of us, always getting himself int’ sticky situations. It ain’t our fault if he managed to get back”
Inspector Blue twisted the cigarette butt between his fingers. He rested his elbow on top of his knee. Boil was always speaking up for the others and butting in. It was sickening.
“Mr Boil, you died how?” Inspector Blue tried another angle.
Boil shuffled on from foot to foot and blushed; an unusual thing for a ghoul to do.
“I got caught up in some machinery and it took my arm clean off”
Inspector Blue threw the cigarette butt onto the ground.
“What kind of machinery Mr Boil?”
The butt of the cigarette bounced off the ground and went right through Boils foot.
“Carnival” he quipped, “I mean, it was the controls for the Ferris wheel in a carnival”
Inspector Blue was quick to comment back.
“Well Mr Boil, if you were so careless as to get caught up in heavy machinery, couldn’t you be just as careless as to meddle with Ed’s spirit?”
Blue smirked at Boil’s blundering way he tried to defend himself.
“It wasn’t me! I swear” he stuttered.
“He’s telling the truth y’know Blue” butted in William. Blue felt the anger rise in him and he tore open a new pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He took a long drag letting the smoke billow out of his chest.
“You shouldn’t smoke, it makes your lungs black” pointed out William.
“Will, I’m dead. I don’t think my lungs are going to be bothering me again” Blue was sick of his assistant William always popping in with answers or questions that made him lose authority.
“I still think he’s telling the truth” said Will in his annoying sing-song voice.
“Why Will, why do you think Mr Boil here is telling the truth?” boomed Inspector Blue. He knew from previous experience that if Will thought something he wasn’t going to shut up about it; ever.
“He just doesn’t seem smart enough to think of something like that” he continued, “and anyway, if he invented something to bring people back to life wouldn’t he use it for himself?”
“Not everyone hates death Will. To some it’s a welcome relief”
“Not for me” Inspector Blue heard Will mutter. Inspector Blue rolled his eyes, having a thirteen year old ghost for an assistant was bad enough without him being a new ghost as well.
The two didn’t notice Boil slowly back away and motion for his cronies to follow suit.
“Not so fast Boil” threatened Inspector Blue, “I have a few more questions”
“But the kid’s right! I couldn’t have done it! Look at me I’m stupid! I can’t get in trouble again; I’ll be locked up this time”
“Well that’s just your loss and my gain” sneered Blue. Will elbowed him in the stomach.
“Being mean gets you nowhere!”
“Shut it Will” hissed Blue, “I’m trying to work here”
Inspector Blue looked up at the ghouls only to find them running away. They were now too far away to catch again. Inspector Blue groaned; all that hard work for what?
“Next time William will you kindly keep your opinions to yourself and let me do my job” Blue demanded. William shrugged.
“I was just trying to help”
“Well next time restrict your so-called ‘helping’ to fetching me more cigarettes and coffee”
“What’s the point, the smoke only blows out of your chest and the coffee falls out of you anyway”
Blue narrowed his eyes at Will and put his hat back on. He yanked on his trench coat over his white shirt and grey slacks. He departed from the dark alley and into the street lit by crackling street lamps. Blue briskly walked the length of the street with his hand in the pockets of his trench coat. Will followed closely behind. Tall, dark houses framed the street looming over them. Stairs of five steps led down from the doors to the pathway. Blue turned and marched up the steps of a house with a flickering porch light. He searched his pockets for his key and unlocked the door. Imprinted on the door in flaking gold paint was “Blue Investigations” property of the D.I.S.C.
The door was jammed so Blue rammed his shoulder into it to dislodge it. It swung open with a thud revealing a dank hallway that smelt of smoke. Will coughed upon inhaling the dust and smoke. Blue slapped him on the back and smirked. Will didn’t say anything, after all Blue was only trying to help.
Blue immediately went to his office on the first floor beside the kitchen. He hung up his coat and sat down. He threw his hat of his head and it hit the coat hanger perfectly.
Blue sighed and put his head in his hands.
“This is a hopeless case!” he complained, “There are no leads what so ever!”
Will sat down on the edge of the desk and rubbed his head making his black hair stand up in tufts. He suddenly noticed something in Blue’s mail box. He wandered over and stuck his hand in. Blue barely even noticed, he was just moaning about the D.I.S.C. There were two letters, both addressed to Blue.
“Hey Blue, you got mail” he threw the two envelopes in front of Blue. Blue stretched out his arm and picked up the envelopes. One was from D.I.S.C and the other from a stranger.
“Might as well get the worst over with” he muttered ripping open the first envelope.
We at the Department for Interesting Supernatural Catastrophes hope that William has settled into his role as your assistant and apprentice. We hope that you can teach him the role of detective so that he can be employed in the future as an inspector.
This letter is also regarding to your developments with the ‘Life Case’. Any information regarding the case is useful to us so please forward them to the department.
Blue crumpled up the letter and threw it into a drawer in his desk. He grabbed the other envelope and hoped it would contain slightly better news.
Blue, I may have information that could be very helpful for you. To contact me simply place a letter addressed to ‘G’ at the fountain in High Street the minute you get this. Then go back at noon tomorrow and I will have a reply for you.
The letter was hand written and the writing messy, but the message was still clear.
Quickly Blue grabbed some paper and a fountain pen; he proceeded to scribble his own message.
Blue placed it in an envelope and sealed it.
“Run down to the fountain on High Street and put this on the bench” he handed the envelope to William.
“But it’s cold outside!” he moaned.
“You’re a ghost” Blue said plainly, “if the cold bothers you maybe you’d be better off somewhere else”
Will grumbled and left the room; Blue heard a resounding bang and knew that Will slammed the door in frustration. Blue opened the drawer again and took out the crumpled letter. He smoothed it and read it again. Will wanted so much to be given a proper job; not just fetching Blue coffee and cigarettes.
He took another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Puffs of smoke escaped through the gaps between the buttons on his shirt. He opened the buttons on his shirt and the smoke escaped more easily.
He took a long drag of the cigarette till it literally burnt up in his hand. He watched as the smoke came rushing out the hole in his chest. The hole was right where his heart was -or rather- where his heart used to be.