Death. What happens after it? What lies beneath the surface?
Poor Arielle Daniels stumbled through dangerous hoops to figure this out. She wakes in a new place--the Void--and discovers that what waits after death are layers, dimensions, and sadly...
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"W-Watching me?" Arielle's shoulders were tense, tight, painful as if she'd let a barbell rest there for too long. "I mean, you said you saw me die, but... you've been taking care of me?"
This blob—now looking like a punk-rock chick straight out of a late eighties, early nineties movie—hovered beside her, unfazed by the eerie world around them. She seemed to like the drab atmosphere of it all, and had made a face when Arielle called it all smelly.
How does the staleness not bother her?
"What else can I do? I'm stuck here, like you." The ghost shrugged, sticking one hand into her back pocket, and using the other to brush through her tangled mane.
Fixed on the slick and greasy-looking inky hair, Arielle gulped. She almost missed the creepy, genderless blur that had appeared moments before and scared the crap out of her. Because this chick... was scarier. She was pallid, her demeanor too relaxed, her voice too calm, her lips too often parted in an ominous grin. And her eyes were terrifying, dark but rimmed with a sepia-like brown, possibly red.
"Are you sure you're a ghost? You... don't look so good." Arielle couldn't hide the tremble in her tone, and hoped the being wouldn't pick up on it and use it against her somehow. Mock her, shun her, send her off to some hellish realm to punish her—
"Dude." The girl motioned at a few scars near her wrists, then lifted her chin to show a slit across her throat. "Why would I look good? I'm dead. Been dead for a while. So yeah, I'm a ghost, like you." She stuffed her arms behind her back and her gaze narrowed, though she maintained a steady smile. "I just have more experience with all this. It doesn't affect me as much."
She flinched, and Arielle regretted pushing. Surely this girl didn'twant to remember she'd died, nor have to show proof of it to newbies like her.
"I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... doubt you."
"It's okay." The ghost's features lit up as she gaped over at Benny and Kylie, who were sauntering out of the other room with raised brows, appearing uneasy and confused. "Hey, you know what? Let me give you more proof, okay? Give you a taste of what you'll be able to do, with time. Consider it a... lesson. Follow me."
Before Arielle could protest—she wasn't sure she wanted more proof, because she was spooked enough already—the ghost shimmied over to Benny and Kylie and floated back and forth in front of them.
"I guess the energy concentrates here, then," said Benny, rewinding the tape and bringing the device to his ear. "Didn't even get a whiff of wind in there."
"Like I said..." Kylie kept close to him, peering around as if expecting something to jump at her. "It's because she died down here. Over there," she pointed at Arielle's chalk outline, "is probably where she hangs out. I don't get it, ghosts are morbid, but... that's where the crew got the weirdest vibes. That and that closet upstairs."
