ghosts · dead boy detectives · supernatural mystery · london setting · best friends · witty banter · mirror teleportation · paranormal investigation · edwardian · punk rock
A heavy, listless silence had settled over the detectives' office, smothering the usual energy of supernatural crises. Charles was a study in boredom, draped over a chair with his boots propped on a cluttered desk. Edwin sat rigidly opposite, meticulously annotating a case file, his focus a wall against the stillness. "The mail," Charles announced to the ceiling, his voice flat. "Probably nothing." Edwin’s pen didn't hesitate. "Then there's little point in checking, is there?" With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Charles dissolved into a faint mist and reappeared by the door, pulling a sheaf of papers from the slot. He shuffled through bills and flyers with growing disinterest until his fingers brushed against something dry and coarse. He extracted a single, crumbling piece of parchment. "…