The strange events continued in April's new home. Items were misplaced, strange sounds and disembodied voices occurred randomly. Her fear was quickly turning into angry confidence. She began researching as much as she could about ghosts and haunted houses, going as far as to look up any history on the house. Oddly enough, there hadn't been so much as a break in for the forty years that the house was standing. There had only been two other owners who peacefully spent their time there. None the less, April poured through the internet and forums gaining any bit of advice she could on how to handle the situation quietly. She didn't dare breathe a word of it to her friends or family, who had just started noticing April return to her old self. No, she would deal with this alone, if only to show that she could stand on her own feet again.

On the night she planned to confront her wanted guest, the realization that she could be potentially trying to defeat a nonexistent entity began to sink in. So many people told her than mourning manifested itself in so many ways, who was to say this wasn't hers? She shook her head. She couldn't sway now; she knew in her bones that something weird was happening. This was her home, her new start; she couldn't let some invisible foe uproot her again. April read that ghosts pull energy from batteries and electricity. She turned off all the lights and unplugged any unnecessary electronics, allowing only candles to show her what might be in her home. She sat at her kitchen table, unsure of what she should do. There was never a set time the strange incidents happened, and she felt silly just sitting there in near darkness with her heart pounding in her ears.

“Alright you ghost bastard, let's get this over with,” April grumbled.

Suddenly, she heard feet running down the hallway; a picture slammed to the floor. She stared into the living room, her hand gripping the table, waiting for the intruder to make their appearance. The couch slid forward as if pushed, the lamp on the end table toppled over with a shattering crash. A candle fell, lighting the nearby rug of fire. Panic hit her, with a gasp she jumped up running to the kitchen sink. Sounds of a fight ensued in the living room as April stood with the fire extinguisher in hand. She quickly put out the small hazard and was struck with an idea, though admittedly not a good one. April paused, waiting for the next brawl to hit to the living room. 

The table tipped over in a rushed, causing the woman to spring into action. She aimed and fired everything that was left in the canister. Coughing and angry words erupted in front of her. She blinked, laying on the kitchen floor was two men, wearing something that looked like they came from filming one of those space-themed TV shows. One of the men was scruffy with a bushy black beard and shaggy hair. The other was clean cut, with boy scout features, who quickly grabbed the man beside him.

“You're not going anywhere this time,” he exclaimed, pulling a small tube from his belt and jabbing it into the man's leg.

“Fuck you!” Swore the other man and within seconds his eyes fluttered closed, his head thumping to the ground.

The boy scout watched to ensure the man didn't move before allowing himself a sigh of relief. He turned towards the woman, who had the fire extinguisher raised high above her head, fear and confusion dominating her face.

The man raised his arms, “Woah, Woah! I know this surprising Ma'am put I assure you I'm not here to hurt you.”

“Who are you and what have you been doing in my home?!”

“If I may have a moment to restrain this criminal I will explain everything to you.”

Part of her brain told her not to believe the man, but what could she do? So far this whole thing had been scary but not dangerous. She lowered the canister but held it firm, giving a small nod. The man thanked her and pulled something from his belt, placing the shaggy man's arms behind him. The object looked like a small silver square with an odd button on the front. The man pushed it, and the square began to unfold, latching itself to the arms of the passed out man. April realized they were handcuffs but none like she had seen before.

The man stood slowly, making sure that the woman didn't change her mind about smacking him with the weapon in her hand. He reached into a pocket on the front of his large vest, revealing a wallet. He handed her an ID with his face on it.

“My name is Gregory Hightower; I'm an officer for the Time Travelers Guard. I was assigned to catch this man who was using illegal time traveling equipment.”

Aprils eyebrows furrowed, her mouth hanging open in bewilderment. “Shut up. This isn't some kid's game. You've been coming in here making me scared to live in my own home, and you expect me to believe that you give me a bullshit explanation like that?”

Gregory stared at her with an awkward expression. “I know it seems odd Ma'am, but I can explain everything. Before I do, I would like to check my watch if that's ok. I think it was damaged by the fighting and the fire extinguisher.”

April rubbed her eyes; this whole thing was getting weirder. She sighed and nodded, moving to put her table and chairs in its proper place. She offered the guard a seat, sitting across from him at the other end of the table. He popped off a bracer from his arm, examining it carefully. After a few beeps from the display screen, Gregory clicked his teeth.

“I thought so. I'm sorry Ma'am, but I'll have to impose on you for a little while longer while this is getting repaired.”

April didn't say anything but watched the man reach for another pocket on his vest. This time it was a small box. He tapped it a few times, causing the top to fly open. Five spider-like robots crawled from the container box, a red light blinking on their backs as they made their way to the bracer. Chattering sounds emerged from the machines while they crawled from here to there.

“It shouldn't take them long to fix it,” Gregory sighed. “I deeply apologize, I failed miserably at handling this case.”

Her fear grew weaker as she looked at the man in front of her. His face filled with such disappointment and shame that she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

“Would you like some coffee? Um, do you drink coffee?

He nodded, “Yes, that would be wonderful thank you. I suppose I should explain myself.”