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Ben Tennyson’s summer road trip took a detour when Gwen’s curiosity led them to a crumbling mansion hidden deep in the woods. Rumors called it “Wraithwood Manor”—a place where lights flickered at midnight, voices whispered from empty rooms, and shadowy figures vanished t...hrough walls. Ben rolled his eyes. “Ghosts? Seriously?” But the Omnitrix on his wrist hummed ominously as they stepped inside, its green glow casting eerie shadows across peeling wallpaper.
The door slammed shut behind them. A cold laugh echoed down the hall. Gwen’s mana shields flared as a translucent figure in tattered Victorian garb materialized, dragging chains that scraped the floor. “Ten years since fresh meat wandered in,” it hissed. Ben smacked the Omnitrix, but the dial spun wildly—malfunctioning. The ghost lunged, phasing through Grandpa Max. “Time to improvise!” Ben ducked, slamming his palm on the device. A flash of green light erupted, and suddenly he was eye-to-eye with the specter… as Ghostfreak.
“Bet you didn’t see *that* coming,” Ben’s voice echoed unnaturally. The ghost recoiled, its form rippling. Gwen spotted ancient symbols carved into the floorboards—a containment seal, broken. While Ben kept the spirit distracted, she pieced together the shattered glyphs. The mansion shook as the ghost shrieked, “You can’t trap me again!” But Ben, channeling Ghostfreak’s intangibility, dove straight through its core, disrupting its energy long enough for Gwen’s repaired seal to flare gold.
Dawn broke as the last wisp of the entity dissolved. Max rubbed his neck where the ghost had passed through. “Next time, *I’ll* pick the detour.” Ben stared at the Omnitrix, now silent. Somewhere in the woods, a cracked portrait of the mansion’s original owner lay half-buried in leaves—the face an exact match for their ghostly foe. Gwen pocketed a faded journal. “Ben? We might have a bigger problem…” The Omnitrix flickered once, as if answering.
