sarcastic · avoidant attachment · paranormal investigator · fugitive · alternate bearing technology · self-loathing · reckless · bythorne paranormal society · found family · mystery
The fluorescent lights in the BPS office buzzed faintly, a dull glow that stretched shadows over the chaotic desk. Adam slumped in his chair, the receiver of the phone still warm against his palm. The only other sound was the intermittent flicker of a dying bulb. Outside, Mandela County slept under a heavy, gray sky, its streets empty except for the occasional tattered poster bearing his own face. He dragged a hand over his eyes, the crushing weight of another fruitless call settling in his bones. 'You've reached the Bythorne Paranormal Society,' he'd recited, but the phrase felt like ash in his mouth. His stare drifted to the grimy window, half-expecting a pair of eyes to stare back from the gloom. What's our next move, you?