[sup][h1][center][/center][b][center][color=black] D R . T H I R T E E N[/color]
[color=Silver]D R . T H I R T E E N[/color][/center]
[/b][/h1][/sup]
[center][b]CHAPTER 1: DROP IN THE BUCKET[/b][/center]
[hr]

[center][i]Tchung Tchung Tchung[/i][/center]

The device that resembled a cattle prod with longer prongs called out as Terrance waved it over the woman writing against her restraints in the bed. To all but its creator the device looked like a goofy prop but to Dr.Thirteen it was clearly giving him bupkis. With a definitive nod, Terrance shut off the power pack on his hip and spoiled the device’s wire before walking back to the doorway where the woman’s wife stood, fearfully watching the scene play out.

[color=silver]“Nothing supernatural here ma’am.”[/color] Terrance spoke stoically and bluntly. [color=silver]“Whatever’s afflicting your wife has none of the tell tale signs of anything paranormal. My suggestion is get her to a therapist or committed.”[/color]

As Terrance spoke, back facing the bed, the sobbing significant other would watch wide-eyed as her wife levitated off the bed, still thrashing against her restraints. Unable to communicate what she was seeing through words she frantically tapped Terrance’s chest and pointed. Turning around, Terrance saw the woman just as he’d last seen her; futilely attempting to escape from the surface of the bed. 

Turning back to the frantic spouse Terrance continued his spiel. [color=silver]“Won’t be charging you anything more than the initial consultation fee, wouldn’t feel right considering everything but in your forum post you mentioned your wife had been seeing a fortune teller? I can’t promise anything but it’s more common than you think for charlatans posing as soothsayers to pull stunts like this. Lure loved ones in with promises of visions and leave them in mentally vulnerable states, perfect for isolating the from loved ones and wringing them dry of every dollar they have.”[/color] Terrance explained, producing a notepad and pen from his pocket. 

[color=silver]“For my daily rate of 200 dollars I can go check in on this ‘psychic’ and see if I can’t get to the bottom of this. That being said, we’re running a special promotion right now; with the purchase of a full home and garage paranormal sweep I’ll slice that day rate price in half. Can I put you down for a sweep?”[/color] Terrance asked, shaking the pen expectantly as the bound woman’s wrists seemed to spin unnaturally in their joints.

[hr]

[color=cyan][i]"...The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout..."[/i][/color] the voice of Tom Bergeron rang out through the van as the dash mounted CRTV showed a video of a man in a spider halloween costume hanging off a house gutter before falling backwards and landing on his back. Terrance laughed, taking quick glances at the screen as he sat in the Ghost Breaker, stuck in traffic. He'd hoped to be at home right now or at least at his regular watering hole but turns out he was a better salesman than he thought and now Terrance found himself trudging through the city towards some con-woman's abode to see what she'd done or said to make a wife go nuts. It was a job for a therapist, a licensed one at least. 

Eventually Terrance managed to break away from the flowing rapids of angry drivers and get onto a side street, only a block away from his destination. Flicking off the TV and cutting the engine, Terrance got up from his seat and crawled into the back, taking a couple secured and filled milk crates filled with all manor of paraphernalia before coming across an eye dropper only labeled [b][i]'A.I.D.-3, Two drops each"[/i][/b]. Terrance took a seat and off his glasses, raising the dropper just above his eyes as he followed his own instructions, dropping two drops of the clear liquid in either eye. A couple of blinks for comfort and Terry was off, glasses on his face and pep in his step as he raced towards his destination.

[hr]

[i]Madame Monique's Macabre Readings[/i] read the neon sign above the small store front. If he had to think of a stereotypical Psychic's store front it would be this. Small wedge of property between a laundromat and a corner store, the door even had a set of chimes set up to go off when he entered the building. Sitting ever mysteriously at the red draped table was a striking woman with tan skin and long blonde hair. The jewellery she was adorned with had the tell-tale sheen of plastic save for a single ring that may have been a genuine piece. The woman beckoned Terry to sit without a word and the investigator obliged.

[color=teal]"You've come seeking something. A truth you are not yet ready to believe yourself."[/color] the woman said, eyes locked onto Terrance's. Terrance replied with a scoff leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms; she wasn't even trying.

[color=silver]"Yeah, you're right. A lady by the name of Amanda Lemone's been coming to see you after work a couple times a week. Now she's experience convulsions, delusions and you've got her significant other thinking she's possessed. I'd like to know exactly what you've been saying, dosing, or doing-"[/color] Terrance's interrogation was stopped with a raised hand as the woman, unbothered by the accusations produced a crystal ball from off the floor, one that Dr.Thirteen hadn't noticed initially.

[color=teal]"All your answers can be found within. Gaze inside to find the answers that you seek."[/color] she spoke, lips curled into a smile as Terrance's eye flicked down towards the orb and he found himself unable to look away. 

[hr]

The ball produced tailored visions to whomever looked at it, perfectly setup to dull the mind into a highly suggestible state allowing the witch to do whatever she pleased with the husk. A fairly simple spell for a younger witch such as Simone. She had to prove herself before she would be properly inducted into the Greater Hub City Area Coven. Cause a little chaos, enthral some mortals and her proverbial capstone project would be completed, allowing her to share in the success of her fellow covenmates, soon to be sisters.

Letting the ball do its work, Simone stood and gave a flick of her wrist, locking the door from across the room as she walked into the back. It was a bit tacky back here, even she could agree; a giant cast iron cauldron filled with a bubbling concoction, large mixing sppon and shelves adorned with spices, ingredients and liquids of origins not even known to her. The brew itself was just about finished, only missing the final ingredient of a human soul and Simone was sure the man in the other room wouldn't be able to think of a reason to say no after his time with the orb. This [i]man[/i] was looking too deep into forces he didn't understand and soon he would pay the price for his-

[i]Ah, she was getting ahead of herself.[/i]

First Simone had to put the finishing touches in place; a small milk crate as a stepping stool up to the cauldron gave her a proper view into the brew where she began chanting. She had yet to perfect her pronunciation but with a spell such as this, the creature on the otherside would be lax about proper protocols; it was the thought that counted. With every ancient word spoken and wave of her arm the cool coals under the pot grew brighter and brighter and the concoction itself grew darker and darker until it became a dark, tarry sludge seemingly mixing on its own. Craning her neck, Simone called out into the other room.

[color=teal]"You may enter now!"[/color] the sound of a squeaking chair and shambling footsteps were immediately followed by the man entering the room, pupils dilated as large as saucers. He made no sound and simply looked around the room. Simone snapped her fingers to regain his attention before stepping down from her perch.

[color=teal]"Now then, get up there."[/color] she commanded once more and so the man followed her instructions though his gaze returned to scanning the room as he made his way onto the step. Perhaps she should have left him on the orb longer...

[i][color=teal]"Get in."[/color][/i]