Baekhyun paces back and forth, his sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor. It’s quiet in the waiting room, the only sound that of the air con working overtime.

“Pacing around isn’t going to make the autopsy go any faster,” Jiyong comments mildly, not even looking up from the file he’s going over.

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose. “I hate waiting. I don’t understand why we can’t be in the room while they’re doing the autopsy.”

Jiyong quirks an eyebrow over the top of his paperwork. “Kim Taeyeon is a one hundred and fifty year old corpse. Do you really want to be there while they’re cutting her open?”

Baekhyun grimaces. “No, I guess not.”

“Just sit down already,” Chanyeol commands, patting the seat beside him. “You’re making me nervous.”

“We have a lot to be nervous about,” Baekhyun mutters, sitting down beside his boyfriend nonetheless. “If we can’t prove that Kim Taeyeon was murdered, she might murder us.”

Chanyeol gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just relax. These forensics people are experts. If there’s something to find, they’ll find it.”

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose again. “I wish I had your confidence.”

Chanyeol winks at him. “When you look like me, there’s no shortage of confidence.”

“You’re full of ,” Baekhyun laughs. “Everyone knows I’m the attractive one in our relationship.”

Chanyeol pretends to be hurt. “You’re so mean to me.”

“You guys better shut up or I’m going to throw up,” Jiyong grumbles good-naturedly.

Even as anxious as he is, Baekhyun can’t help but smile.

It’s another hour before the autopsy is finished, and then they’re shown into a little office to discuss the findings.

“So what’s the prognosis, Dr. Kim?” Jiyong asks, settling himself into one of the chairs opposite the forensic specialist’s desk. “Anything conclusive?”

Dr. Kim purses his lips thoughtfully. “Honestly, it was a difficult task. There’s no flesh remaining on the corpse, which makes determining a lot very difficult. We were able to confirm that she was a woman in her early twenties who died roughly one hundred and fifty years ago.

“There were no physical markers suggesting she ever gave birth. When a woman gives birth, the stretching ligaments leave these sort of pockmarks on the pelvic bone,” Dr. Kim explains. “The original death certificate had childbirth marked as cause of death, but, after examining the corpse, I have to disagree with that assessment. Also, I’ve been unable to find any reports of an infant corpse.

“Additionally, I did find some hairline fractures on her hyoid bone,” Dr. Kim continues. “It’s not a lot of evidence, but, in my opinion, it’s more than enough to confidently say that this woman’s cause of death was strangulation, not premature childbirth.”

Baekhyun feels a flood of relief and a smile spreads across his face.

Jiyong nods. “I’d like to arrange a press conference if you don’t mind. I’d like for you to announce your findings publicly, if that’s alright with you.”

Dr. Kim nods. “I wouldn’t mind taking some credit for solving this mystery,” he chuckles. “But, honestly, I never would’ve agreed to take this case if you hadn’t pushed so hard for it. May I ask why you found this case so intriguing?”

Jiyong shrugs, smiling. “Let’s call it a personal mission. Thanks so much for your help in all this, Dr. Kim. I’ll make the arrangements for the press conference immediately.”

Jiyong waits until he, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol have strolled out of the forensic facility to bring up the ghost waiting back at the Westholt.

He lights a cigarette and takes a long drag. “I’m going to arrange the press conference to be held tomorrow morning.”

Chanyeol is skeptical. “You sure you can arrange something like that at such short notice?”

Jiyong smirks, tapping ashes off the end of his cigarette. “Don’t underestimate me, kiddo. I’m a miracle worker.”

“Obviously,” Baekhyun agrees, slipping his hand into Chanyeol’s. “So what do you need us to do?”

“You need to make sure Mrs. Taeyeon Kim is watching when that press conference airs,” Jiyong says.

Chanyeol frowns. “And just how are we supposed to do that?” he demands. “She sort of wants to kill us, remember?”

Jiyong shrugs. “You’re smart kids. You’ll figure out something. Just make sure she’s watching the press conference at ten o’clock in the morning. Deal?”

Chanyeol is silent, but Baekhyun nods. “Deal.”

“How the hell are we supposed to get this murderous ghost to watch television and not kill us?” Chanyeol demands when he and his boyfriend are in the truck, heading back to the hotel.

Baekhyun chews on his lower lip thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. We’ll figure it out.”

“Well we better figure it out quickly,” Chanyeol grumbles. “Or she might strangle us the same way she got strangled.”

The hotel is quiet when Chanyeol and Baekhyun let themselves in the front door, the light slanting through the windows to cast twisting, dancing shadows on the dusty floors.

“Where do you think all the ghosts are?” Baekhyun asks as they tiptoe past piles of boxes and building equipment.

Chanyeol shrugs, leading the way up the stairs to the room they share. “Hiding, maybe. How many ghosts do you think are even here?”

Baekhyun glances uncertainly over his shoulder, feeling like he’s being watched. “Dunno. Hopefully not too many.”

Chanyeol snorts at that but doesn’t answer.

The two of them spend the entire night trying to come up with a way to get Taeyeon to watch the press conference, but they can’t seem to agree.

“She’s been dead for a hundred and fifty years,” Chanyeol says. “It’s not like we can easily trick her.”

“Why don’t we just tell her what we’ve done and explain that we’ve revealed her husband for the murderer that he was,” Baekhyun suggests. “Don’t you think she’ll pay attention then?”

“Honestly, I don’t think she’ll stop to even listen to what we say,” Chanyeol grumbles. “We’re going to have to go to her, and she’s going to be pissed off that we’re in her area.”

“We’ve got to try, don’t we?” Baekhyun asks helplessly.

It’s rather a sleepless night for both of them.

Jiyong calls half an hour before the press conference the following morning. Baekhyun, who is sitting on one of the refurbished counters in the kitchen, sipping a scalding cup of coffee, answers the call.

“So have you come up with a plan to get our dearly departed Taeyeon in front of the television?” Jiyong asks.

Baekhyun glances at Chanyeol, who’s leaning against one of the sinks, nearly as out of it as his boyfriend. “Uh, well, I’m sure everything will work itself out in time.”

Of course this doesn’t placate Jiyong. “Baekhyun Byun,” he says sternly. “I did no go through all this trouble of exhuming a one hundred and fifty year old corpse for you to miss this opportunity. Get it together.”

“Okay, okay,” Baekhyun grumbled. “We’ll head up there now and see what we can do.”

“You’d better deliver, or else,” Jiyong says warningly, and, even though Baekhyun isn’t exactly scared of Jiyong, he doesn’t particularly want to cross him either.

Baekhyun hangs up the phone. “It’s now or never,” he tells his boyfriend with an enormous sigh. “We’re never going to get another opportunity like this again. If we miss it, Taeyeon may as well kill us.”

Chanyeol shudders. “Don’t say things like that. Let’s just do what we can.”

They’d discovered from Sehun that Taeyeon had been murdered in room 3406, the one she’d been staying in with her husband on that fateful day. So that’s where they head. The elevators are all in working order now – Chanyeol had made sure of that ever since Baekhyun had injured his leg – so they take the main elevator with it’s old-fashioned crank and mirrored walls up to the third floor.

Baekhyun had explored this floor once before, back before he knew for sure that the hotel was haunted and filled with a plethora of ghosts. It seems that, now that he knows, the whole floor is shrouded in some kind of eerie feeling. The hallway lights are just as bright as ever. The carpet, just put down last week, is clean and plush. The wood-paneled walls have been cleaned and scrubbed down. But even with all this, the corridor that houses room 3406 sends chills down Baekhyun’s spine.

They reach the door in question and stop, an ominous foreboding settling over the pair of them.

“So what do we do?” Chanyeol asks. “Just go in?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “I don’t think she’d like that very much. I get the idea that she’s very particular about things, especially when it comes to men. Alive ones, anyway.”

“So what?” Chanyeol asks. “We knock?”

“Can’t hurt,” Baekhyun says.

So, taking a deep breath, Chanyeol raises his fist and knocks loudly on the door.

There’s no verbal answer but, after a moment of silence, the door creaks open ever so slowly.

Baekhyun swallows audibly. “I guess that’s permission to enter.”

Chanyeol takes his hand with a look of grim determination. “I guess it’s now or never.”

And, clasping hands, they step across the threshold into room 3406.

At first glance it looks like any other basic room in the hotel. It’s got a queen-sized bed with an old, dated bedspread and a television set that looks like it’s been around since Kennedy was president. In fact, the most noteworthy thing about the room is that it is empty.

“Where is she?” Chanyeol whispers, his voice echoing around the dim, dusty room.

Baekhyun’s grip on his boyfriend’s hand tightens. “I-I’m not sure.” He flips the light switch on, bathing the room in a pale glow, but it’s just as empty with the lights on as it was with them off. Baekhyun clears his throat. “Uh, Mrs. Kim?” he calls out uncertainly. “Mrs. Taeyeon Kim? Are you here?”

There’s no response.

Baekhyun doesn’t give up. According to his watch, they’ve got less than fifteen minutes until Jiyong’s press conference airs, and he’s got to make sure that this particular ghost is paying attention when that happens. “Mrs. Kim, my name is Baekhyun Byun, and this is my partner, Chanyeol Park. We bought the hotel.”

This elicits a reaction out of the ghost, but the way the door slams shut behind them makes both Chanyeol and Baekhyun jump, and they’re not sure that the reaction is quite the one that they wanted.

“Please,” Baekhyun tries again, even though he’s so scared he’s trembling. “We don’t mean you any harm. We just want to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to the likes of you.”

Both Baekhyun and Chanyeol whirl around at the sound of the unexpected voice.

She’s standing on the other side of the bed, with long dark hair and wearing a dated period dress. She’s pale, deathly so, but she’s got a ring of bruises around – a reminder even in death of her murderous husband.

“Mrs. Kim.” Baekhyun is relieved to have finally seen her, even if he’s terrified. “Please, we have something very important to tell you.”

Her face, which could be quite beautiful under other circumstances, twists up in a sneer. “What could you possibly tell me? You’re men. You know nothing.”

“We know you were murdered,” Chanyeol says suddenly.

Her eyes flash dangerously. “Any idiot knows I was murdered,” she snarls bitterly. “It wasn’t a secret. Everyone knows.”

“But we proved it,” Chanyeol insists. “And soon everyone is going to know your husband for the murderer that he was.”

But she doesn’t believe them. She glares at them, the hair on the backs of their necks prickling as the lights begin to flicker and the drawers begin to rattle.

“Stop being a drama queen.”

This comes from Sehun, who, quite suddenly, is standing in front of Baekhyun and Chanyeol where there had been nothing just a moment before.

The child tosses his rubber ball into the air and catches it again. “Just listen to what they have to say. They’ve been working very hard to help you out, you know.”

“It’ll just take a minute,” Baekhyun promises, checking his watch as he inches over to the television screen. He’s only got half a minute before the press conference is scheduled to begin. He hopes the reception isn’t too terrible in this room, as they haven’t updated the televisions yet.

Old though it may be, the set works. The press conference is taking place on a local channel, not cable, so all it takes is a few adjustments to the metal bunny ears atop the set before the picture comes into focus. It’s in black and white, but that’s fine for their purpose.

Taeyeon sullenly crosses her arms and glares at the television set.

After the current commercial ends, the inside of a newsroom comes up on the screen, focusing on a pretty reporter with dark hair and glasses. “Thanks to the perseverance of a private investigator, a couple of civilians, and a team of forensic specialists, a one hundred and forty-eight year old mystery has been solved,” the reporter announces cheerfully. “In 1865, a young woman named Taeyeon Kim died mysteriously while staying at the infamous Westholt Hotel right here in San Francisco.”

Taeyeon scoffed.

“After obtaining permission from one of Taeyeon Kim’s descendants, private investigator Jiyong Kwon had a team of forensic specialists exhume the body of the unfortunate young woman,” the reporter announces.

Rather than being pleased, Taeyeon is furious. “You dug up my body!?” she shrieks, and things are flickering and rattling again in an altogether more ominous manner.

Baekhyun whimpers. “We had to!” he shouts over the din. “It’s the only way we could prove that you were murdered!”

“Mrs. Kim,” Sehun says, grabbing her hand. The room quiets down immediately. “Just listen, okay? You can decide to be angry or not after it’s over.”

She huffs for a minute more, but in the end gives in.

The reporter is smiling. “Now, let’s go to Dr. Kim, the lead scientist during the exhumation.”

The screen zooms in to the live press conference, which shows Dr. Kim standing at a lectern on a raised platform. His team of specialists stands behind him, along with Jiyong, dressed impeccably as always.

Dr. Kim is explaining the process to the crowd of reporters. “Taeyeon Kim’s official death report from 1865 claims that she died during premature childbirth, and, despite pressure from her family to look into the matter further, her death was never investigated. However, the fact that there was never any record of Taeyeon Kim being pregnant made investigator Kwon here very suspicious, and he lobbied for an exhumation of the body.”

“And what conclusion did you reach after exhuming the corpse?” a reporter calls out eagerly.

Dr. Kim clears his throat. “We were able to conclude that Taeyeon Kim had probably never given birth, which belies the claim that she died during premature childbirth. If there had been a child, her body would either show signs of expelling it, or it would remain in her womb to decay. If there had been a matured fetus, she would likely have experienced coffin birth, where the body expels natural gases during the process of decay. As there were no signs of a fetus being present or natural marks on her body, we can reasonably conclude that Kim Taeyeon did not die from childbirth, as her death certificate claims.”

“They can tell all that from looking at my bones?” Taeyeon demands.

“Science has come a long way since you died, Mrs. Kim,” Sehun says flatly, still holding her hand.

“Were you able to determine the actual cause of death from your investigation?” another reporter calls out.

“We found some hairline fractures on the victim’s hyoid bone,” Dr. Kim explains. “That’s this part right here.” He touches his throat to explain. “These fractures, along with the lack of evidence regarding any pregnancy or childbirth, has caused my entire team to unanimously agree that this woman’s death was caused by strangulation.”

The crowd starts murmuring.

“Do you have any idea who the murderer was?” a reporter asks.

“I’ll let my associate, Mr. Kwon, answer those questions,” Dr. Kim says, bowing and stepping back.

Jiyong steps up to the microphone at the lectern. “After studying the original documents meticulously, my associates and I have come to the conclusion that Taeyeon Kim’s murderer was none other than her own husband, a notorious drunk who was known for bouts of violence, Kim Youngwoon.”

A reporter raises her hand. “It’s all well and good that you’ve solved this case, Mr. Kwon, but to what end?” she asks. “Kim Youngwoon must be long dead by now. There is no one to punish for this crime. What was your goal with this effort?”

Jiyong looks directly at the camera when he answers, and Baekhyun and Chanyeol can tell that he’s speaking directly to Taeyeon now. “Because everyone needs to know that, no matter how much time it takes, no matter how carefully you think you can cover your tracks, the truth will always be discovered. We will give a voice to the silenced. We will find the truth.”

The crowd claps politely at the end of Jiyong’s little speech, but it’s Taeyeon’s reaction that Chanyeol and Baekhyun are eager to see.

She stares at them for a long time. “Why?” she finally asks. “Why did you do this?”

“We wanted to prove to you that you can trust us, that we’re not here to hurt you – or anybody,” Baekhyun explains. “We love this hotel. We want to share it with you.”

“You will bring more people here, yes?” she demands. “More men to beat their wives? More men to lie and cheat?”

Baekhyun looks at his boyfriend uncertainly. “We’re not psychic. We don’t know what a person is like behind closed doors. We can’t monitor that sort of thing, or stop bad men from coming to stay at the hotel as long as they pay.”

“How about this?” Chanyeol says suddenly. “There are a lot of ghosts in this hotel, right? You can put them on patrol, and if you find a bad man who is beating his wife, or lying, or cheating, you have our permission to scare the living daylights out of them.”

“We’d prefer it if you didn’t kill them, though,” Baekhyun adds quickly. “We don’t exactly need more ghosts. I think we’ve got plenty.”

Taeyeon’s lip twitches up into an almost smile. “I think you might have yourself a deal.”

And she holds out her hand. After only a moment’s hesitation, Chanyeol shakes it. And just like that, Taeyeon Kim becomes their ally. 

Woo hoo! I'm finally back!

Sorry for the long hiatus guys!