"Bet you regret letting them get that puck past ya, Sparky," Buckle teased, pushing the other goalie slightly as the pair walked back to the locker room.

  "Not without my revenge," Sparky growled, holding up one of his gloves as a few volts of electricity crackled off the twin prongs. "I don't recall seeing you out there."

  "Pfft, I'm lazy," the backup goalie said, brushing off his comment. "It's a good thing Digit got that last shot in before the buzzer or we'd still be out there."

  "What about that kill, though!" Rottie asked, scampering past towards her own locker. "Pretty sweet for a rook."

  "Good job on the goal, kid," Guy said, patting Digit on the back as they followed their teammates into the room. A 2-1 was nothing to write home about, but at least nobody on the Mutants died.

  "Goal?" Unicorn asked, walking up on the other side of Guy. "What about that dipshit he got in the stomach, what did you use, D, a dagger?"

  Digit flicked his wrist, revealing the blade he had used to gut his opponent and take his thumb. With another flick, the blade disappeared again.

  "My grandad made it for me," he said proudly. "... Cause I kept dropping my knife."

  "Your family lives nearby?" Unicorn asked.

  "Not really," Digit said sadly. "But they made an effort to visit for my birthday."

  Players came from all over the country, making family time a real effort. Guy was a Coaltown native and hadn't really left until he joined the team, but he didn't have much family left anyway, so it was nice that Digit's still made an effort.

  "So you had assist, a goal, and a kill?" Unicorn asked, "What do they call that?"

  "I actually don't think there is a name for that," Guy pointed out. He glanced around the locker room, knowing at least one person would know if it did.

  In the corner, sitting on a bench in full gear, was a man with half his face lost to a massive scar.

  "Any idea?" Guy asked.

  The man chuckled, causing the massive spike lodged through the center of his chest to bob up and down. "A Holt hat trick," he replied.

  "That's right," Guy said, "A Holt hat trick."

  Digit and Unicorn exchanged glances, and Unicorn laughed nervously. "One of your ghosts feeding you trivia, kid?" He asked carefully.

  "Only the Great Grinder Holt himself," Guy replied, turning to his locker and placing Guy's Hammer on its hooks.

  "They should just call it a Digit!" Rottie replied, barreling out of nowhere already half free from her hockey gear. She leapt on Digit's back and tousled his hair. "Sounds better!"

  Digit laughed as he fell back onto a nearby bench, Rottie still holding on, while Unicorn stepped back out of their way.

  Guy continued to undress until suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He froze before realizing it was a warm touch, and relaxed as he turned to face Unicorn, who was giving him a stern look.

  "What's up, cap?" he asked, feeling unease grip his stomach.

  "Can you knock it off with your imaginary friends?" Unicorn asked in a whisper, leaning close, his grip tightened on Guy's shoulder. It wasn't painful, but it was a reminder of Unicorn's physical strength.

  "I just asked Holt-" Guy started, but Unicorn tightened his grip further, and Guy snapped his mouth shut.

  "Holt is dead," Unicorn replied, coldly. "He's been dead since my rookie season. I was there."

  "He's still here," Guy replied, though he regretted saying anything when he saw the look on Unicorn's face. Guy glanced past him to the long-dead Mutant captain, who was giving his protégé a somewhat disappointed look.

  "Cool it," he commanded. "You'll scare the rookie." He walked away without another word, leaving Guy to finish getting undressed.

  He should have seen that coming. Unicorn was especially sensitive about his old captain, but he seemed especially uncomfortable with Guy's ghosts. Not that anyone liked them, but at the very least, most of his teammates would either humor him or mock him. The captain was the only one who tried to shut him down.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  He shook his hair out and ran his fingers through his sweaty mop as he took his helmet off and hung it on its hook, kicking himself for opening his mouth.

  "Dinner is full rations tonight," Digit said, walking over and sitting beside Guy. "A little birdie told me you might like that."

  Digit was one of the youngest members of the team, but not by much. He and Guy had likely been playing hockey for roughly the same amount of time, but Digit had come up in the NonLethals. The sport was still brutal, but spiritually similar to the old days of hockey, before blood sport became the norm. People still died, but mostly off the ice.

  But of course, you still needed an on-ice kill to be called up to the Lethals.

  Still, Digit felt younger. He wasn't worn down or cynical, unlike Guy, who had been called up in his mid-teens.

  Guy's stomach gurgled at the mention of food, and he brought his hand up to it. "That's a relief," he replied. "Maybe there will be bread."

  "I think I heard a rumor," Digit replied, then paused and looked down at his hands. He was holding the puck from his first goal and turning it over several times. Guy had seen him pass the finger off to another player who was experienced in preserving body parts like that right after the game, but ever since the puck from his goal had been handed to him, he had refused to let go.

  "What's going on?" Guy asked, glancing down at the round black object as Digit examined it closely.

  "Why haven't you killed anyone?" he asked softly. "Buckle said it's 'cause you think you're better than us."

  Guy took a moment to think it over as he removed his pads and stored them in his locker. "Not sure where she got that idea from," he said carefully. "It's just part of the sport. If I were really against it, I wouldn't play."

  "Then why? Is it because of your... your ghosts?" Digit said the word in a whisper, as if he was afraid of the others overhearing him. Guy finally sat down beside him as he started to take his skates off.

  "Sorta, yeah," he said carefully, "It would be kinda awkward, I think." He ignored the dark presence behind him as it growled.

  "So you really see that stuff?" Digit asked. "It's not a bit?"

  "Not a bit," Guy confirmed.

  "How long?" Digit asked.

  "Since I was seven, so twenty years come my birthday," Guy said, trying to distract himself by taking off his gear so he could think about the right thing to say before the words came tumbling out. "I didn't think you believed in that stuff."

  "I'm not sure if I do if I'm being honest." Digit scratched the back of his neck. "You must see a lot of them? I mean... In this business, especially, right?"

  "Well, yeah, but they aren't all the same," Guy replied. "Some of them are basically just echoes, like of fans coming and going, players warming up, or making plays on the ice. Usually, they only show up when a place is really empty and quiet." Almost as if the building itself is reminiscing, Guy thought to himself.

  "Sometimes, when it's real quiet..." Digit hesitated, as if he wasn't sure whether he wanted to share this. "Sometimes I can hear a game going on, but I look in the rink, and nothing is there."

  Guy smiled. "I've seen entire games take place," he said.

  "What does it look like?" Digit asked.

  "It's like looking at someone and realizing you can see through them after a second," Guy replied. "Some are more translucent than others."

  "Digit! Guy!" It was Unicorn by the door, his hand hovering over the light switch. "If you're done pillow talking, dinner is in fifteen."

  Guy glanced around and realized the two of them were the only people left in the locker room. "Almost done, Cap!" He yelled after him, scrambling to finish taking off his gear.

  "Turn the lights off on your way out," Unicorn replied, slipping down the hallway.

  ...

  Digit had sat next to him through dinner; if he had wanted to ask more questions, the way Guy had vacuumed food into his mouth had given him pause. Guy couldn't feel bad about it, though, after all, he was known for his ravenous appetite and nearly non-existent social battery. After a hard-won game and four dense bricks of bread and a bowl of beef stew, he was starting to feel sluggish. He was hardly awake even as he followed the team back to their bunk room nestled in the underbelly of the stadium. He slowed as he passed the away team's bunk; the door was still open, and he could clearly see several players glaring daggers at the passing team. It wasn’t hard to guess why they looked irritated. The mattresses were terrible, and the stadium only fed the winners. If you lost and still wanted to eat, you'd better find something on your own or bring it from home.

  Guy bravely stuck his tongue out as he passed, causing one of the players to finally stand up and slam the door in his face. Rottie and Digit giggled from behind him.

  Guy found his bunk, which was tucked into a corner and covered in blankets and pillows that he had sourced from all over the place; some he had stolen from other stadiums' bunks, and some he had found in various markets on the road. His bunk was on the bottom, which let him pile his pillows into a sort of nest, with the curtain hanging from the top bunk to give him some form of privacy, but he didn't always pull it closed. He climbed in, practically melting under his blankets as his eyes fluttered shut.

  "Is it scary sometimes?"

  Guy jumped as Digit leaned over the side of the top bunk; he hadn't even noticed him climbing into bed.

  "Seeing ghosts?" Digit elaborated.

  "Uh," Guy took a moment to regain composure before answering. "Sometimes, but I'm pretty used to most of it by now."

  "Do you have any ghost friends?" Digit asked, he was practically hanging over the edge of his bunk now, whispering harshly.

  Guy thought of Bones.

  "No," he replied. "The ones who can talk just tend to see me as a novelty, a living guy to talk to for a bit."

  "Can they touch you?" Digit asked.

  "QUIET DOWN!!!" someone bellowed from a few bunks down. Guy thought it might be Rottie.

  "Yes, sometimes. " Guy replied, humorously tossing a pillow at Digit's face. "Go to sleep."