*~In medio stat virtus~*
Daryl Copper held his phone out in front of him, watching as the screen glowed in the dark.
He placed his second phone in his pocket before turning on the flashlight with him as he waited for the red LIVE icon blinked at the corner of his device.
"Alright guys," Daryl said, breathing lightly.
"I'm inside."
His footsteps echoed in the old building causing the floors to creek.
The sound of a few broken tiles crunched under his shoes as he continued to move, and the chat moved with him.
[User123]: bro this place fake af
[MidnightWatcher]: turn the camera left
Daryl glanced at the screen as he checked the view count on this particular livestream.
"Ninety-eight viewers," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"That's actually crazy," he added.
He smiled nervously as he addressed the viewers in the livestream.
"Thanks for showing up," he said.
"If you're new, this is Daryl Copper on SpookTube."
He suddenly stopped walking as he took a long look at the hallway stretched ahead, countless doors lined both sides although most of them were broken and some were hanging off the hinges.
"I got a tip about this place," Daryl said.
"They say there's a wandering spirit on the third floor, I don't know how true this information is, like I said it's just a tip."
The wind blew through a broken window, it was a faint sound but the place was quiet enough for you to hear it clearly - something banged somewhere in the floors above them.
The chat exploded.
[GhostEnjoyer]: heard that
[PaidComment - ¥50]: Don't chicken out now ᕙ (° °) ᕗ
Daryl laughed.
"Don't worry," he said.
"I'm not leaving."
He wiped his palm on his pants.
"So here's the plan," he continued.
"I'm gonna lure it out."
He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small bell.
"And this," he said, holding it close to the camera,
"is supposed to attract spirits."
The bell jingled softly, the sound echoed too long into the dark hallway.
Daryl swallowed hard.
"Okay," he said.
"Let's move."
He climbed the stairs, each step pulled groaning sound from the old wooden staircase.
His breathing got louder, meanwhile the chat, safe from the immediate action behind their screens, kept rolling.
[User444]: heart rate check?
[Puck19 - PaidComment - ¥100]: If you die I want clip rights
Daryl snorted.
"Relax," he told himself.
"I'm a professional."
He reached the third floor and somehow the hallway was darker, as if the situation wasn't bad enough his flashlight began to flicker.
"Okay that's not good," he said.
The light stabilized and he walked forward, then he stopped.
"Did you guys hear that?" he asked.
There was a string of silence, then footsteps that were slow and dragging to an extent.
The chat went wild.
[SCREAMINGGHOST]: BEHIND YOU
Daryl turned but there was nothing there.
He laughed weakly.
"Guys stop messing with me," he said.
A door slammed and Daryl jumped in reflex.
"Okay," he said quickly.
"That was real."
He soon backed away and the bell jingled again.
He could feel the temperature drop as his breath showed.
"Oh hell no," he whispered.
It was faint and only for a moment but he swore a shadow moved across the wall.
Not waiting around to confirm anything Daryl immediately booked it.
"Okay okay okay," he said loudly.
"We're running."
The chat filled with encouraging comments.
[TheLastRonin615]: GO GO GO
[DeriliousDildo - PaidComment - ¥200]: THIS IS CONTENT
Daryl sprinted down the hallway as something chased him.
He felt there were more footsteps at least more than one for sure.
"Why are there so many?" he yelled, glancing back occasionally.
His shoe slipped and he hit the ground.
The phone escaped his grip as it bounced off the concrete ground.
"No."
The camera spun and then the screen went black.
"Guys?" Daryl said.
"Guys can you see me?"
Only audio remained.
The chat exploded.
[User999]: screen black! screen black!
[SimonDonQuixote - PaidComment - ¥50]: BRO FIX IT
"I know," Daryl said.
"Hold on."
Something grabbed his leg causing him to scream.
"GET OFF ME!"
More hands wrapped around his thighs sending a cold sensation across his lower body.
He kicked forward with enough force to knock out a cow - although this might have been a slight exaggeration.
Although it did not have an effect on the incorporeal ghost, however what it did manage to accomplish was ripping his trousers straight across the box down.
He was thrown to the ground as he crawled and ran.
Now footsteps could be heard everywhere.
There were whispers and there was laughing.
The bell fell from his side as the sound metal clanged across the dark hall.
Daryl burst through a door before running downstairs.
He tripped and rolled, as he felt countless arms wrapped around him except however the sinister folks were not trying to catch him.
[JohnCarter44]: Don't tell me it is what I think it is Skull Emoji
[Keyboardwarrior67]: Zesty Ahh Ghosts Crying Emoji
"STOP TOUCHING ME!" he screamed.
[DDSeanCombs - PaidComment - ¥200]: These ghosts are like me for real.
His pants were torn completely, followed by the rest of his clothes.
[LucyMoranSister]: just remember when you are in this situation don't shout for help, always shout fire.
[DickTremayneJr]: But isn't for... You know what, never mind Skull Emoji
He continued to tumble down the stairwell as his bear skin slapped across the old wood.
The video went blank for a moment and the chat could no longer see what was happening.
Immediately he stopped and regained his footing, he immediately got up and reached for the door right in front of him. The night air hit him as he burst outside.
There was silence, and within the silence was heavy breathing.
The camera flickered and the video came back.
The chat froze, Daryl was on screen running barefoot.
He was in his underwear as the streetlights flashed by.
He didn't stop until he reached a gas station before he leaned on a wall.
Panting heavily with sweat dripping.
The chat resumed, then it exploded.
[HAHALORD]: BRO WHAT (@_@)
[LORDLMAOOFO]: THIS STREAM, BRO I CAN'T ༼;´༎ຶ ༎ຶ༽
[PaidComment - ¥100]: BEST CONTENT EVER LOL >.<
Daryl looked at the screen, his face was red in embarrassment, it was then it hit him, his hair was wild, his shirt was gone, his pants were gone also.
"…I lost my pants," he said quietly as though still in shock and disbelief.
Laughing emojis soon flooded the screen, some people clipped it and some others spammed.
Then a different message appeared.
[Member ⭐ - MoonPetal]: Stop laughing at him. That was dangerous.
The chat slowed.
Another message followed it.
[MoonPetal]: Are you okay?
Daryl stared at it.
"Uh," he said.
"Yeah. I think."
A donation sound rang.
¥200 donated
[MoonPetal]: Please go home. Try again another day.
Daryl swallowed as he took a moment to clear his head if all that happened today.
"Thank you," he said.
"Really."
He bowed slightly.
"Thanks to everyone who donated," he added.
"And… yeah."
He forced a smile.
"I'm ending the stream."
He waved awkwardly and in the next the screen went dark.
---
Daryl stood there almost naked, watching as cars passed, people stared at him bewildered or disgusted as though he was a creep, since he was standing directly at the entrance to the gas station someone honked at him cussing him to get off the road.
"Great," he muttered, he left the cars path and stood by the sidewalk as he flagged down a cab.
The driver slowed and he stared.
"…Rough night?" the driver asked, giving Daryl an understanding and knowing glance.
"Ha," Daryl said.
"You could say that."
"Get in," the driver said.
Daryl gave an address, his voice still a little hoarse, and the driver nodded as though he didn't need to hear anything else, because honestly, looking at Daryl in that state explained more than enough. The ride itself was quiet- too quiet- and every now and then the driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror, not long enough to be rude, but long enough to confirm that yes, this was in fact real.
Daryl crossed his arms over himself, suddenly very aware of how exposed he was, and of how ridiculous this entire night must have looked from the outside.
They arrived sooner than he expected.
Daryl paid quickly, muttered a tired, half-hearted "Thanks," and stepped out.
The driver hesitated, then nodded slowly.
"…Good luck," he said, and for some reason that stuck with Daryl more than anything else that night.
---
Standing in front of his apartment building, Daryl reached for his pocket out of habit, already knowing something was wrong before his fingers came up empty. He froze.
"…No," he whispered, his stomach sinking as reality caught up.
His keys were gone.
Of course they were.
He exhaled, rubbed his face, and after standing there for a moment longer than necessary- as though hoping the keys might magically reappear- he turned and walked next door instead.
He knocked.
The door opened a crack, and an old woman peered out.
"Oh," she said, squinting slightly. "Daryl?"
"Yes," he replied quickly. "I'm sorry, I- I lost my keys."
Her eyes moved over him slowly, taking in his condition, his bare legs, the exhaustion written all over his face.
"…You look terrible," she said flatly.
"I know," Daryl admitted.
She disappeared back inside without another word, and for a brief moment he worried she might actually shut the door on him. Instead, she returned holding a spare key.
"Be careful," she said, pressing it into his hand.
"Thank you," Daryl said, bowing slightly out of habit, gratitude rushing through him harder than he expected.
He went inside.
---
The door closed behind him.
A younger woman stepped out from the hallway.
"Grandma," she asked, "That was him?"
"Yes," the old woman replied.
"Why didn't you tell him about the rent?" the young woman snapped, her voice sharp with irritation.
"He's struggling," the old woman said calmly.
"He owes months," the young woman shot back.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow," she said, already turning away.
And with that, she left, the conversation ending before it could become anything worse.
---
Inside his apartment, Daryl locked the door and leaned back against it, his legs finally giving out as he slid down onto the floor. He stayed there for a moment, breathing, just breathing, until the adrenaline faded and left only exhaustion behind.
Eventually, he stood.
He showered, letting the hot water run over him until his thoughts dulled and the night felt farther away than it really was. He didn't think about the ghosts. He didn't think about the stream.
Afterward, he ate instant noodles straight from the cup, burning his tongue at one point but didn't care, then watched a random movie on his phone until his eyes grew heavy.
He fell asleep without realizing when it happened.
The room was quiet.
At least for the night.
---
Early that morning
His phone vibrating dragged him back to consciousness.
It didn't stop.
He groaned, reached for it blindly, and answered without opening his eyes.
The screen read: Mom.
"…Hello?" he muttered.
"Daryl?" his mother said quickly. "Did I wake you?"
"It's fine," he replied. "I was already up."
That was a lie.
He sat up, his head pounding slightly.
"You didn't answer earlier," she continued. "I got worried."
"I'm okay," Daryl said. "Just tired."
There was a pause.
"You're really doing alright on your own?" she asked. "You're eating properly, right?"
"Yes," he said. "I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine."
"I am," he insisted. "I can manage."
She sighed softly.
"You know you can ask us if you need help," she said. "You don't have to carry everything alone."
"I told you," Daryl said quietly. "I don't want your money."
"I know," she replied. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying."
He rubbed his face, already dreading the next question.
"How's the house rent there?" she asked. "Are you keeping up with it?"
"It's cheap," Daryl said quickly. "Really cheap."
"I can afford it."
Another lie.
Then, in the background
"So he better not ask for money."
Daryl froze.
"…Dad?" he asked.
The voice grew clearer.
"He's wasting his life," his father said. "Running around chasing nonsense."
"Lower your voice," his mother snapped. "He can hear you."
"He should hear it."
Daryl clenched his jaw, saying nothing.
"Don't mind him," his mother said hurriedly. "We're just… frustrated."
"It's fine," Daryl said. "I know."
"He says things like that," she continued. "But he still cares. He just doesn't know how to say it."
Daryl didn't respond.
"Please take care of yourself," she said softly. "At least promise me that."
"I will."
"Good," she said. "And… good luck, okay?"
"Thanks, Mom."
The call ended.
The room went quiet again.
---
Later, he got up.
His body still ached, but the day wasn't going to wait for him.
He showered again, dressed in clean, cheap clothes, and turned on the TV as background noise while moving around the apartment.
An interview was already playing.
He stopped to have a look
On the screen was a young man sitting confidently under bright studio lights, smiling like he owned the world.
Text read:
Thunderchild - Top Supernatural Hunter
Daryl stared bewildered, where had he heard this name before.
Thunderchild leaned back casually, yellow hair spiked like lightning, one arm draped over the couch while the host smiled beside him.
"So Thunderchild," she said, "you've been trending all week."
"Not surprising," he replied. "That's what happens when you're the best."
"You cleared three high-risk haunt zones in one night."
"That was easy," Thunderchild said with a laugh. "The ghosts barely put up a fight."
Daryl sat down slowly, as he soon recalled wasn't he the guy who started the same time as him and in just over a year he was already a celebrity.
In this world, ghosts weren't rare, neither were hunters.
Some did it for money, others for fame but majority of the time it was for both.
Platforms like SpookTube made it easy - if you were good.
And if you were really good, companies or even the government would come knocking.
Daryl watched Thunderchild smile for the camera, watched the audience laugh, and felt something heavy settle in his chest.
Perhaps he had tried, he really had.
But compared to people like that…
Daryl leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
"It's not happening," he muttered.
In this field, there were pros and there were elites.
And then there was him.
A nobody that aspired to be somebody, yet lacked the courage to do so.
Such a person lived life on the line between remarkable and banal, in other words he was ordinary.
He was someone who maintained the status quo.
He was someone who spent the majority of his time balancing his life just enough to get by
He was someone who was seduced by the idea of potential yet he failed to take any bold steps in order to achieve it.
That was the kind of person he was, a person just trying to survive.