Chapter Text
Harvard University Library — 11:49 PM
Rain pounded against the towering windows of the Harvard University Library, the wind howling like a restless banshee. Inside, two security guards—both in their early thirties and interested in nothing more than an easy paycheck—strolled through the grand corridors, their footsteps echoing against the marble floors.
The shorter of the two playfully twirled his flashlight like a baton. “Man, I don’t get why everybody before us quit. Easiest gig ever. Walk around, pretend we’re working, cash a check. Piece of cake.”
His taller partner snorted. “I know, right? Tell that to my girlfriend though. She says she heard from her sorority friend that some exchange students ran outta here the other night screaming about ghosts.”
The short guard wiggled his fingers dramatically. “Ooooh, beware the vengeful spirit of the old librarian! Return your books or suffer her wrath!”
They both chuckled as they entered a cavernous reading room, its towering bookshelves stretching into the shadows. Dim desk lamps cast pools of golden light over the mahogany tables, flickering with each bolt of lightning flashing beyond the windows.
The taller guard sighed as he started switching off the lamps. “Seriously, don’t these trust-fund nerds know how to turn off a light?”
“Ivy-Leaguers,” the shorter one sneered, shaking his head. “All brains, no common sense.”
Suddenly, they heard a loud CRACK as a burst of lightning illuminated the far side of the room.
And in that brief moment, the short guard could’ve sworn he saw something over by the doorway. leading to the next room He stopped cold in his tracks. “Uh…dude, d-did you see that?”
His partner barely glanced up. “Dude, relax. You’re acting all paranoid. If I’d known that story was gonna freak you out, I wouldn’t have said any—”
They both heard it. A long, hollow moan, rattling the air like an unearthly whisper crawling up their spines. They froze as it came again, closer this time. Much closer.
Slowly, they turned to look behind them. Instantly, their faces contorted in pure, utter terror at the ungodly sight before them.
Fast as the lightning that flashed through the windows, they took off running, boots pounding against marble, breath hitching in panic as they flew down the stairs and tore through the grand entrance hall, slamming into the exit doors at full force—
Locked.
“NONONONO—” The tall one sputtered, fumbling with his key ring, hands shaking out of control as the ungodly grew louder behind them.
“DUDE ! HURRY!” the short guard screeched.
“I’M TRYING!"
Keys jingled, metal scraped. Then—
Click!
They crashed through the door, plunging into the stormy night. Rain pelted their skin, drenching their uniforms as they bolted across the deserted campus. The library stood behind them, an ominous silhouette against the lightning-slashed sky—neither of them daring to look back.
Mali-U Penthouse — 10:17 AM
Morning sunlight streamed through the massive windows of the three Spies’ Mali-U penthouse, casting a golden glow over the sleek modern furniture. The ocean sparkled in the distance, the palm trees swaying lazily in the breeze. Inside, however, the atmosphere was far less relaxing.
Sprawled out on the couch were Sam and Alex, textbooks, highlighters, and half-empty coffee cups scattered around them like the aftermath of an academic cyclone.
“Ugh, my brain is so fried,” Alex groaned, rubbing her temples. “I swear, if I have to read one more word about advanced calculus, my head is going to explode.”
Sam, her eyes glued to her notes, absentmindedly flipped a page. “Tell me about it. The run-up to finals has been absolutely brutal. I barely got any sleep last night, and I still feel like I don’t know anything.”
Before Alex could respond, the penthouse door swung open with a flourish, followed by the unmistakable clack-clack-clack of high heels.
“Hellooooo, besties!”
Clover’s voice rang out as she strutted into the room, absolutely beaming, a small mountain of shopping bags dangling from her arms like trophies.
Sam and Alex exchanged knowing looks before turning to face their friend.
“Clover,” Sam said, sitting up and glancing at the clock on the wall. “Where have you been?”
Clover let out a tired sigh as she dropped her bags onto the nearest chair. “Oh, you know—just surviving the most epic early-morning sale of all time at The Groove.” She reached into one of the bags and pulled out a sleek aqua-blue designer sweater. “Ta-da! Isn’t it adorable?"
Alex folded her arms. “Clover, we have finals coming up. You do remember that, right?”
Clover blinked. “Umm… vaguely?”
Sam shook her head. “Maybe instead of hitting up The Groove, you should be hitting the books instead. If you actually want to graduate, that is.”
Clover gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “Hey! I’ll have you know that I have a very meticulous study system!”
Alex arched a skeptical brow. “Lemme guess—procrastinate until the last minute, then flirt with some nerd that’ll let you copy off of him?”
Clover smirked, sheepishly twirling a stand of her blonde hair.
Sam sighed. “Clover—”
“Okay, okay, fine!” Clover groaned, flopping onto the couch. “I promise I’ll try to study more.”
Clover then reached into her school bag and pulled out a thick textbook, flipping it open.
“Huh?” Sam blinked, staring at the cover. “Is that a criminology textbook?”
Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa! You’re taking Criminology?”
Clover smirked, flipping her hair. “Yeah, I have been for a while now.” With a dreamy sigh, she added, “Blaine talked me into it. He said it might come in handy on our missions.”
“Aww,” Alex gushed. “That’s so sweet!”
“Yeah, except it’s totally boring,” Clover quipped, promptly tossing the book over her shoulder and grabbing her new sweater again.
Sam shot her a deadpan look. “Umm, what happened to ‘trying to study more’?”
“I will," Clover said, hugging the sweater. “After I try this on, obviously.”
Just as she was about to slip the sweater over head, however, the floor beneath them suddenly gave way with a loud WHOOSH!
“WAAAAHHH!” The girls screamed as they were sucked down into the hidden trapdoor beneath the couch, their hair whipping wildly about them as they plummeted through a twisting, sleek and metallic tunnel.
With a final THUD, the three landed in a slightly tangled heap—right on the couch inside Jerry’s high-tech WOOHP office.
“Good morning, Super Spies,” Jerry greeted, calmly sipping a cup of tea behind his desk. “How nice of you to drop in.”
“Umm, not like we had a choice, Jer,” Clover scowled, fixing her hair.
Jerry, ever composed, observed Sam and Alex with mild amusement. “My word, you two look positively drained.”
Alex stifled a yawn. “That’s because we are. We’ve been studying non-stop for finals.”
“Some of us, at least,” Sam muttered, rubbing her temples while giving Clover a judgemental sideways glance.
Jerry turned his gaze to Clover, who was inspecting her new sweater with a satisfied smile. Sensing the silence, she glanced up to find Jerry staring at her expectantly.
Her cheeks flushed, a bead of sweat running down the side of her head as she quickly stuffed the sweater behind her. “What? Fashion is, like, mentally exhausting too!”
Shaking his head, Jerry pressed a button on his desk that pulled up a 3D model of a large library on the monitor behind him. “As much as I admire your dedication to academia, ladies, I’m afraid I have an urgent matter that requires your attention.” Clasping his hands together, he continued, “For the past couple of days, WOOHP has been made aware of several reports of strange happenings going on at the Harvard University Library.”
Clover wrinkled her nose. “Harvard? Ugh, like the last thing I want is to be surrounded by spoiled trust-fund kids who are only there because of ‘daddy’s connections.’”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Clover.”
Alex, more intrigued, leaned forward. “What kind of strange happenings, Jer?”
Jerry cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. “Well, as bizarre as this might sound, numerous eyewitnesses—students, faculty, and security guards—have all reported seeing… ghostly apparitions inside the library.”
For a moment, silence hung in the room as the girls all stared at Jerry, their eyes the size of saucers.
Then—
“PFFFFT!" Sam and Clover erupted into hysterical laughter.
“Oh come on, Jerry,” Sam guffawed, wiping a tear from her eye, “you can’t be serious. Is this some kind of joke?”
Clover grinned. “Yeah, ‘cause newsflash, April Fools isn’t until April.”
Alex wasn’t laughing, however. She was too busy clutching the couch cushion like a lifeline, her face frozen in horror. Ghosts? Oh no. No, no, no. Ever since she was a kid, Alex had been terrified of ghosts. Horror movies? Pass. Haunted houses? Hard pass. The one time in the 6th grade that she went on a ‘spooky’ hayride in the Valley, she’d screamed so loud from fright that the actors actually broke character to check if she was okay. And now Jerry wanted her to walk into a real haunted library on purpose?!
“I can assure you that this is no joke, ladies,” Jerry said, folding his hands on his desk.
“Uh, so, like… are you confirming that g-ghosts are r-real?” Alex croaked.
Jerry adjusted his tie. “I’m not saying that either, Alex. I’m merely saying that the reports of this supposed paranormal phenomenon are very real.”
Clover smirked, playfully nudging Alex in the arm. “Like, hello? Scooby-Doo much?” She leaned back in her seat, waving a dismissive hand. “I bet it’s just some silly frat bros’ idea of a funny prank. Totally lame, if I do say so myself.”
Jerry remained unfazed. “Perhaps. But real or make-believe, something in the library has been scaring people away—most importantly, the security guards. The Harvard University Library houses one of the world’s most extensive collections of rare and priceless books, and without security guards on duty, those items are extremely vulnerable to tampering or theft, so it’s of the utmost importance that you figure out what’s going on and put a stop to it.”
The girls exchanged comprehending glances, finally seeing the bigger picture.
After a beat, Clover let out a dramatic groan. “Fiiiiine. I guess we can investigate Harvard’s little ghost problem. Anything to keep me from studying for a little while longer.”
“Good work,” Jerry said. “Now, the situation at the library over the past several days is apparently so dire that the head librarian has decided to take an… unorthodox approach.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Unorthodox how, exactly?”
Jerry’s lips curled into a slight grin. “He’s placed an ad looking for a paranormal investigation team.”
Clover nearly choked, laughing. “Wait, wait, Harvard is actually hiring, like, ghostbusters? What, were the real detectives too busy solving actual crimes?”
Jerry’s grin widened as he leaned back in his chair. “Well, that’s where you three come in.”
The girls blinked.
Alex gulped. “Us?”
Jerry reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a folder, setting it on the table with a light thud. “Ladies, allow me to introduce you to the Beverly Hills Paranormal Research Team —a highly skilled group of investigators specializing in supernatural disturbances across the country.”
Sam furrowed her brow. “Huh? Since when is that a thing?”
Jerry smirked. “Since right now.”
Clover grabbed the folder and flipped it open, revealing neatly printed documents, complete with some case files, credentials, and even headshots of the three of them. She blinked. “Oh my gosh, you actually made fake profiles for us? Jerry, do you ever sleep?”
Jerry chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. “It’s a talent.” He leaned forward. “Now then—Sam, you’ll act as the team’s leader and founder. Clover, you’ll be in charge of the investigation equipment. And Alex…” He hesitated slightly before smiling at her. “You’ll be the team’s psychic. After all, if your American ghost-hunting shows have taught me anything, it’s that no paranormal investigation team is complete without one.”
Sam and Clover once again burst into laughter, practically doubling over.
Clover wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh my gosh, Alex? A psychic? Oh, this is too good!”
Sam smirked. “Alright, psychic Alex—any predictions on how long before Clover complains about breaking a nail?”
“No, Jerry!” Alex cried out, her voice laced with panic. She turned to him, pleadingly. “I don’t wanna talk to ghosts!”
Jerry gave her a reassuring smile. “Relax Alex. It’s all just pretend.”
Alex let out a small, nervous squeak, her face turning beet red as she shrank into her seat, not looking even remotely reassured.
“And now, ladies,” Jerry continued smoothly, opening his desk drawer once again, “it’s time for your gadgets.”
At this, all three girls perked up with interest.
Jerry retrieved the first item, holding up a sleek pair of high-tech goggles with a futuristic purple tint. “First up, we have the Structured Light Sensor (SLS) Goggles. The WOOHP scientists who developed them haven’t actually had the opportunity to test them in the field yet, but in theory, they’ll allow you to detect any potential paranormal entities—should they actually exist, of course.”
Sam took the goggles, feeling them in her hands. “Huh. Impressive.” She glanced at Jerry. “So, scientifically speaking, how do they work?”
Jerry steepled his fingers. “They use infrared structured light to map out strange anomalies in the environment.”
Clover put a hand on her hip. “So, basically, fancy ghost-spotting glasses.”
Jerry smiled. “Essentially.”
Alex gulped. “Great. Because seeing ghosts was exactly what I wanted.”
Next, Jerry pulled out a stylish, off-white-colored bobby pin. “Next, we have the inconspicuous Hair Clip Lockpick—perfect for when you need to access any, shall we say, restricted areas.”
Clover snatched it up, twirling it between her fingers. “Ooooh, I love this one! It’s like fashion meets felony!”
Finally, Jerry presented a small, grapefruit-sized crystal ball attached to an ornately-designed mahogany stand. “And last but not least, for the team psychic, we have the Mystical Crystal Ball.”
Sam and Clover immediately started snickering as Alex frowned. “Uh… so am I supposed to, like, channel spirits through this thing?”
Jerry chuckled. “Not quite. But should you encounter any ‘baddies,’ as you call them, this device will certainly come in handy.”
He gestured toward a crash-test dummy that sprang up from a hidden panel on the floor. Holding up the crystal ball, he pressed a button on the bottom. Instantly, a swirling vortex shot out, engulfing the dummy and sucking it inside before shrinking it down.
“WHOA!” Alex blinked. “Okay, that’s actually kinda cool.”
Clover studied the crystal ball and grinned. “I mean, I’d prefer it if it also told fortunes, but I guess it’ll do.”
They all turned back to Jerry, who was waving them off with his usual composed smile.
“Best of luck, ladies! Oh, and Clover!”
Clover arched an eyebrow, instantly suspicious. “...Yeah?”
Jerry clasped his hands together. “And for the record, just because you’re on a mission doesn’t mean you can keep neglecting your studies. I expect you to maximize your time on the flight catching up on everything you’ve missed while you were… how should I put this? Expanding your wardrobe.”
Before she had a chance to plead her case, Jerry pressed a button on his desk.
“WAAAAAHHHH!” The girls screamed as the floor vanished beneath their feet, sending them plummeting down another WOOHP tunnel, their hair whipping wildly around them.
With a final whoosh, they landed—somewhat gracefully—right into a sleek, silver-colored WOOHP jet, all prepped for takeoff.
Sam and Alex dropped into the cockpit seats with ease.
Clover, however, landed in the cabin—right in front of a table stacked sky-high with textbooks, notebooks, and study guides. “Ugh! Thanks a lot, Jer!” she groaned, dramatically slumping face-first over the books.
Shaking her head with amusement, Sam pushed the thrust lever forward, her voice full of determination: “Harvard, here we come.”