Video Fotage!

"Wait just a moment!" My voice broke the silence, my heart racing with anticipation. A fleeting shadow seemed to dart across the computer screen, compelling me to call out, "Pause!"

Carefully, I navigated the cursor, clicking on the timeline at a precise moment, "Enhance this frame right here."

Shawn leaned forward, his gaze sharpening as he peered at the screen, skepticism lacing his tone, "Are you certain there's something here?"

"Just zoom in and see for yourself," I urged, steadfast in my conviction, undeterred by Shawn's doubt.

Reluctantly, Shawn selected the area and began to enlarge it. The frame revealed a paper caught mid-flight by the breeze — a seemingly mundane moment captured in time. At first glance, it appeared to hold no secrets.

"There's nothing here," Shawn muttered, disappointment edging his voice until, abruptly, his exclamation cut through the quiet, "Damn it!" The shock made him drop his cigarette, and I found myself covering my mouth to stifle a scream.

"Hey, mind your language!" came an irate call from a nearby surfer, annoyed at Shawn's outburst.

Flustered, Shawn offered a sheepish grin, an apology tumbling from his lips, "I'm sorry... truly." His smile was disarming, so out of place for a man of his profession, it sparked a flicker of amusement within me.

We shared a laugh, a moment of levity amidst the tension. Then, with a practiced ease, Shawn retrieved his cigarette, his demeanor shifting back to that of the seasoned officer, "Seems like we've stumbled upon something grave."

Despite the image's blur from magnification, a chilling detail emerged — a girl in a crimson dress stood in an unnerving pose, her smile twisted in a grotesque semblance of joy. Her eyes, a haunting vision, bore into ours, as if reaching out from the screen, stained with the crimson of blood and tears. It was a sight that whispered of hidden tales and dark secrets, entwining our fates with hers in that singular, eerie moment.

In her trembling hands, she clutched a slip of white paper, upon which four stark words were scrawled in a vibrant, almost desperate, red: "I don't want to die."

The sight painted a vivid picture in my mind — this girl must have been the "spirit" we unwittingly summoned that haunting night.

A troubling thought crossed my mind, linking the dots to Yamna's erratic behavior. Could it be the influence of this ghost? Lost in contemplation, Shawn's sudden interjection, a soft "tsk," snapped me back to reality. "Something's amiss."

Puzzled, I inquired, "What is?"

"Here, watch," he urged, replaying the video, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Doesn't it strike you as odd? Jessie, the girl in the video, alongside your roommate and another student, all exhibited bizarre behavior simultaneously."

His observation caught me off guard, igniting a spark of realization. "Are you suggesting..."

Shawn, with a flick, cast aside his cigarette, crushing it underfoot. "What if your séance was more successful than you imagined? But then, is it plausible to believe there was only one entity you managed to invite?"

The chill of the internet café seemed to seep deeper into my bones, sending a shiver down my spine.

Lost in his musings, Shawn continued, "Typically, such attempts are futile, summoning spirits that barely possess the strength to communicate, let alone influence. Yet, here you are, having not just beckoned a spirit but one with a sinister presence."

His casual dismissal irked me. Despite his role as a detective, my patience waned, "What are you trying to say?"

"It's quite straightforward," he replied, locking eyes with mine, a hint of intrigue in his gaze. "We're either dealing with more than a single spirit, or, perhaps, one among you has been masquerading as one."

The way Shawn articulated his theories, intertwined with a hint of mystery and concern, paradoxically soothed and alarmed me. His skepticism, wrapped in a veil of genuine curiosity, bridged the gap between the logical and the supernatural, casting a romantic hue over our shared pursuit of truth amidst the shadows of the unknown.

"Impossible!" The word flew from my lips before I could catch it, a vehement denial of the absurdity before me. The very idea that Jessie, Susan's roommate, and Yamna, my dearest friend, could be implicated in such darkness was unfathomable.

Shawn, ever the calm in the storm, raised a hand, "Easy there. Let's not leap to conclusions. My gut tells me we're dealing with something... more spectral. We need to understand what drew such spirits here..."

His words were a lifeline in the chaos, but they were abruptly cut short by the shrill ring of his phone. With an apologetic glance, he whispered, "I must take this; it's my chief," and stepped outside.

Left alone, my heart gradually found its rhythm again. The reality of our conversation dawned on me — here I was, delving into the supernatural with a detective, both of us ensnared by the mystery with a seriousness that bordered on the surreal.

"The world truly is full of wonders," I mused, a smile tinged with irony gracing my lips.

Shawn's return brought a shift in the air, his demeanor somber, etching lines of concern across his face.

After a moment heavy with silence, he offered a choice, "I've come back with news, some good, some bad. Which would you prefer first?"

Opting for a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows, I chose the good news, "Tell me the good news."

"The good news," Shawn began, a cautious optimism in his voice, "is that Susan woke up today."

Relief washed over me like a cleansing tide, "Really?" Joy bubbled within me. "Oh, that's wonderful! Susan's awake; that's a silver lining if ever there was one!"

Shawn's next words tempered my elation, "Hold that thought; we're not out of the woods yet." His tone, somber, hinted at the gravity of what followed.

Bracing myself, I nodded for him to continue, a sense of dread knotting my stomach.

With a heavy sigh, Shawn delivered the blow, "The bad news... Jessie was found dead."