Guilt by Association

      War changes worlds. In this case, it changed two worlds. Ever since the Ghost World declared war on the humans, things have gone from fear to paranoia. King Plasmius had conquered almost the entire planet. It seemed most of the western hemisphere had refused to surrender, however. That’s to be expected. The United States was known for not going down without a fight. In fact, there had been reports that resistance groups had started forming against the tyrant king. I never joined because that was why my old man and mother were killed.
      I sighed as I read the newspaper in my apartment. Australia had returned to being an island for prisoners like it had been once upon a time. Normally rebels would be sent there but to avoid an uprising, the rebel leaders were sent into the Ghost World where they never returned. Most assumed that was where they went to be executed because a week or two later they would be found in the human world, their bodies mangled beyond recognition. The FBI’s crime lab would have to use dental records just to make an ID (if they were lucky enough to find teeth).
       If I ever met the Ghost King again I’d thank him for saving my life as a boy and for ending the first war with the humans…and then kick his ass for starting another one. I hate the fact that the world was living in fear again. I always thought that this was something the Ghost King wanted to avoid. Why was Plasmius doing this to us? What happened to the ghost who saved my life all those years ago? Could the death of the Ghost Queen be the reason for this behavior?
       I sighed again as I got my shoes on. Ask a stupid question. Of course it was the reason why the Ghost King was acting this way. If that sadistic narcissist Thomas Chrome hadn’t did what he did seven years ago, none of this would have happened. I closed the door to my apartment and left the building. After a vote, the tenants of my apartment building agreed to submit to the Ghost King. I was one of the few tenants who voted against it.
       I walked across the street to the coffee shop and ordered a latte with a bagel and strawberry cream cheese on the side. I sat down near the window and took a bite of my breakfast.
       “Detective?”
       I turned around and saw Samantha Manson walking up to me. Ever since I met her as a child, she had been constantly keeping in contact with me even when she moved to Wisconsin a few years ago. I told her about my dark past and she immediately agreed with me that not all ghosts were evil. Unfortunately for both of us, we were now wondering if that fact still held true given the circumstances.
       “Miss Manson, good morning,” I greeted.
       “‘Morning,” she greeted back. She sat down across from me, with a soy latte in her hand. “Anything new on your end?”
       “Besides the occasional curfew-breaker, nothing,” I replied and then I looked straight in her violet eyes. “I better not hear about you doing that, you know that, right?”
       The teenager rolled her eyes. “Duh. I know your schedule, sir. I know when I can and cannot go out after curfew,” she said irritably.
       I knew she joined the Fenton’s resistance group. I was against it at first but after Amity Park fought off a swarm of ghosts, I changed my mind. I told her as long as she went on patrol when I wasn’t on duty, she and I wouldn’t have a problem. The last thing my chief needed was one of his men aiding a group of vigilantes.
       In fact, I was demoted to daytime patrol after the ghosts began their world domination mission (defending those creatures tended to affect your position on the career ladder, I guess). I theorized that the chief did it as an ‘I-told-you-so’ gesture and to keep me in line. Sam still addressed me by my old title though. She thought it made me sound tougher.
       “Anything new with the war?” Sam asked after taking a sip of her latte.
       “Besides Australia becoming an island for prisoners again, I haven’t heard much,” I replied.
       The Goth teen sighed in disappointment. “Why is it turning out like this?” she asked aloud. “We’ve never given in to anything in history.”
       “Well, you have to remember that ghosts had little to do with the human world’s history. They’ve never interfered with human affairs until a few decades ago,” I explained.
       “You still think the government had something to do with it?” Sam asked me with a deadpan look.
       “With all my heart,” I answered wittingly. “The GiW wasn’t in the spotlight until the First Ghost War started. I don’t think that was a coincidence.”
       Sam chuckled and shook her head. She then stood up. “Well, Detective, I better get to school before I’m late,” she stated.
       I nodded to her. “Take care.”
       She nodded back and left the coffee shop. Now I know what you’re thinking. Why have I been staying in touch with a girl I barely knew? Let me start by saying that it started with Sam. After I interviewed her at her house seven years ago, she started calling me a lot, at work and at home thanks to the business card I gave her. I found it a little unnerving at first but all she wanted was an adult to listen to what she had to say when no one else would. No one believed her when she said that not all ghosts were evil. To know that at least one grownup believed her was enough for her to keep in contact with me. You could say that we were friends but I preferred the term ‘acquaintances’ to avoid conflict of interest.
       I finished my breakfast and drove to the station to report for duty. I was still the laughingstock of the entire department. It didn’t matter if I was on patrol, desk duty, or even in the crime lab. I was the punch line for almost every ghost joke the department could think of.
                                        ~0~0~0~
       I clocked out later that night and walked home. I had to take my car in to the shop to get an oil change. The shop was only a block from my apartment building so I decided to walk before the damned GiW started patrol.
       The air suddenly got cooler as my apartment building came into view. I slowed down my pace. I knew I was being followed. I guessed that some ghosts liked to attack people when they were alone with no witnesses. I pulled my trench coat closer to me, putting my hand inside where my ecto-pistol was hidden. There was no way a ghost was going to get the upper hand because I had my guard down.
       Unfortunately, I had been spending too much time with humans because the fact that ghosts could become invisible slipped my mind. An unseen assailant suddenly tackled me. Luckily my standard issue Specter Deflector belt reacted and zapped my attacker into existence. I pulled my ecto-pistol out of its hiding place and I shot at my ghostly opponent. I was shocked that the culprit was none other than the robot ghost I met all those years ago.
       “Nice shot,” he said. He clearly did not recognize me since it was dark and we hadn’t encountered each other in so long. “Too bad it will be your last.”
       He fired another shot at me. I managed to dodge roll it before I fired at him again. It grazed his metal body, barely leaving a scorch mark.
       “What do you know? That wasn’t my last,” I retorted. I aimed my pistol at him again. As much as I did not want to hurt my robotic acquaintance, I had no choice if I wanted to live to see another day. Besides, it was self-defense so that justified it.
       “Why don’t you shoot at those lunatics in the white suits and leave us civilians alone? We did not do anything to you,” I tried reasoning.
       The robot scoffed. “You’re humans. If one human attacks our kind, you all attack our kind! For you, it is guilt by association,” he said as he raised his weapon at me.
I tightened my grip on my weapon as his words echoed in my head. That’s exactly why I was almost killed as a boy. My parents were secretly ghost hunters and because I was their son, I was also guilty of murdering ghosts even though I had no idea that my parents did that sort of thing (they always came up with various excuses).
       “So…you’re blaming me for murdering a ghost even though I’ve never killed one before in my life?” I asked shakily.
       “You humans are all alike!” the robot ghost exclaimed. He disappeared and reappeared behind me. I suddenly felt a blast of heat hit my back, burning a hole through my coat and shirt. I prayed to God that it didn’t do anything to the long scar on my back. I struggled to get back up but the robot stomped his foot on me, forcing me to eat pavement. The pressure his foot was putting on my burn was almost blinding. He aimed his weapon at my head. “Say good-bye, you worthless prey.”
       “Not all humans are as barbaric as you think,” I whispered.
       Those words clearly struck a chord with the robot as I said those words because nothing happened. He slowly removed his foot from my body, allowing me to get back on my feet.
       “What did you say?” the robot asked me.
       “I said not all humans are as barbaric as you think!” I yelled as I shot at him, grazing the side of his head. I told him the exact same thing to him several years earlier. After finding and collecting the Ghost Queen’s remains and then giving them to him, I figured I’d change his perspective on humans. It clearly didn’t.
       The robot’s eyes widened in recognition. “It’s you! You’re the human who found the queen’s remains all those years ago!” he exclaimed.
       I aimed my weapon at him. My chest ached in loss, heartbreak, and betrayal. All of the images of me cradling my dead mother’s corpse and the lifeless eyes of my old man staring at me, flashed through my mind. “Yeah. I’m the so-called worthless prey who actually helped your people receive some closure in the aftermath of your queen’s murder,” I answered in a monotone voice. “It’s nice to know that after all these years I’m finally getting a thank you gesture.”
       The robot wouldn’t back down. “So, you’ve finally sided with your kind. Now you’re just as murderous as the rest of the humans,” he said. “Guilt by association.”
       I fired a shot right at his chest. It made him stagger a bit but it did little damage, though it might have been because my ecto-pistol was set on low. “Did you know that that was the reason why I was almost killed the night my mother and my old man were murdered?” I asked him. “They didn’t tell me they were secretly hunting ghosts every Wednesday night. They either told me they were going bowling, going to book club, or going out for dinner. I had no idea what they were actually doing. When I came home from Homecoming that grim night, a bunch of glowing green skeletons wanted to kill me for the mere fact that I was the son of a pair of ghost hunters. Ghosts murdered my family in cold blood, so does that mean you’re just as guilty as those skeletons?” The robot remained silent, shocked at my little story. I fired at him again, destroying one of the weapons on his arm. “ANSWER ME DAMMIT!” I yelled.
       “N-N-No,” he answered hesitantly.
       “So why are you punishing the entire human race for one human’s crime against your kind?” I asked, keeping my weapon aimed at him.
       “Someone has to answer for it!” the robot argued. I shot at him again, centimeters above his core.
       “Wrong answer. Did a two-year old murder your queen?”
       “No.”
       “Did a little old lady kill her?”
       “No.”
       “So why are you punishing everyone?”
       “Those were Plasmius’s orders!” the robot defended. “He wants every human to know how he felt when Desiree was murdered.”
       My eyes widened. I knew the Ghost King was responsible for the nightmare the world was going through, but to do it out of revenge? He was taking this way too far.
       “It seems you didn’t give him my message when I handed you the Ghost Queen’s remains,” I replied.
       “I did tell him,” the robot defended. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He was too busy grieving to listen to reason. Now thanks to this war, he won’t listen to anybody.”
       “He’s gotta listen to somebody,” I argued as I slowly lowered my weapon.
       “I’m lucky to get through to him occasionally,” said the robot.
       I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re obviously not trying hard enough,” I said.
       The robot released a frustrated sigh and ran his hand through his flaming green Mohawk. “Since I was unable to repay your favor to the King, then let me repay you for what you’ve done for the Queen,” he suddenly said.
       I was taken aback by what the robot was offering me. Not wanting to walk into a possible trap, I decided to hear him out. “I’m listening…”
       “The Queen was a close friend of mine. What you did may have meant to repay Plasmius for what he did for you, but it meant more to me and those closest to the Queen than you know. So let me repay the favor,” the robot explained.
       “How?”
       “You need to leave town.”
       I blinked. What?
       “I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?” I asked in disbelief.
       “You need to leave town,” repeated the robot.
       “Why would I want to leave town?” I asked.
       The robot sighed again, this time in remorse and anguish. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he muttered to himself. “Plasmius is planning to invade Amity Park soon. I’m not going to say when but I can assure you that it will happen.”
       I couldn’t believe my ears. It felt like our roles were almost in reverse. Almost.
“Do you realize what you’re saying?” I asked. “You’re practically betraying your race to help your enemy. If Plasmius finds out what you’re up to, it won’t be just you who will get in trouble. I will be too. Guilt by association.”
       For the first time ever, the robot gave me a small but friendly smile. “I wouldn’t think of it as betraying my kind. I would like to think of it as trying to come to an understanding,” he replied. “Isn’t that what you said when we first met?”
       Remembering that I said something like that long ago, I knew that the robot was telling the truth. “Alright. I believe you,” I told him. I held out my hand to shake his. “I appreciate this.”
       “You’re not like any human I’ve met. If there were more humans like you out there, we wouldn’t be having this war,” said the robot. He then pressed his hand against mine. I assumed this was a ghost’s version of a handshake so I didn’t pursue the matter.
       “You be surprised just how many humans are like me in this world,” I said as I grabbed the robot’s hand and shook it, ignoring how cold it was. He seemed surprised at first but must have thought the same as me (but in reverse) and didn’t pursue the matter either.
       “I guess we’re even then,” said the robot.
       “I guess we are,” I answered.