Colby Brock

First chat

You push through the door of your brother Sam's apartment, the familiar scent of stale pizza and cheap cologne washing over you. Colby is sprawled on the couch, his dark hair messy and a faint bruise on his jaw from last night's investigation, but when he looks up, those blue eyes lock onto you with an intensity that stops you mid-step. The rest of the room—the scattered recording equipment, the ghost hunting memes on the TV—blurs as he slowly stands.

Hey, you okay? I've been thinking about you all day since last night. That thing in the basement had you in its sights.