"Yes... I... can..."
The answer chilled Arielle to the core. All the resolve she'd built seconds prior; the chanting in her head, the repeated encouragements, Jade's soothing voice, and Stella's bravery... gone. All that had helped her put one trembling foot in front of the other; vanished. Melted through the floor. Drifted off in the wind.
"I-I... have to go, you... ghost! Let me out!" Her calf muscles, once tight and firm, turned into pudding.
"Let's... talk..."
"Talk?" Arielle scoffed and crossed her arms, sensing the goosebumps already there grow bigger and send more tremors along her skin. "You've been spooking me for days and trying to make me die for my answers, and n-now... you want to talk?"
The familiar yet unwelcome and uncomfortable breeze that guided her there began to manifest before her, at the top of the stairs. It swirled around and around, forming into the outline of a human body; no features, no colors. Only a vague, feminine-like shape to prove its existence.
"Ask... questions..."
"You want me to—" Arielle blinked as she tucked her elbows to her sides. "Questions. Questions?"
I need those mirror shards.
She'd planned to dash downstairs, make a run for it, punch that mirror as many times as needed to break it. Heck, she already had bloody hands and scarred palms, so what would a few more scratches mean? But it appeared more obvious by the minute that this thing—Arielle refused to even think her name, wondering if it brought on some sordid curse—wouldn't let her go easily, and projected to freak the crap out of her first.
Fine. Ask questions, find an alternative to divert her—then run.
"O-okay," she said, setting her fists on her hips but struggling to keep them there with how her arms trembled. "What are you? A ghost? A figment of my imagination? Or a sick joke?" For an instant she imagined a group of rugged forest-dwelling hunters who lived up the way and prided themselves on spooking stranded passersby. Picking them up at the rest-stop, drawing them over with some fancy wind-blowing trick, one of them sneaking into the bushes to mumble instructions.
She'd seen enough crazy crap on TV to think it might be real; but then how would they make the wind take on a human form? That part eluded her.
Stella was sure of what she felt and saw. It was real. Ghosts... are real.
The twisted whisper took a while to come through, as if it mulled over its answer. "Ghost... no joke..." It was louder this time, with a hint of a rasp in its timbre.
Arielle scratched her right wrist, where a squeezing sensation had begun. Not like the cold touches from earlier, but like hands had wrapped around her tight, to pull her elsewhere, yet without the actual tug. "Okay... and you're..." She gulped, reluctant to say the name, but sensing she had to, "Penny, right? You were with us in Charleston... you followed me... why? Why are you doing this? S-scaring me?"
The gust swooshed a little quicker, like a tornado, drawing in dust particles from the banister and the floor. "Know... too... much..." A tree whipping outside in the actual wind banged its branches against the upper window, causing Arielle to gasp. A momentary flicker of moonlight further revealed the glowing human outline of the tornado-ghost.
"Know too much?" Arielle pointed at herself. "Me? What do I know? Nothing, dude. I have no clue what's going on, or if any of this is real, or if I'll make it through the night." She tipped her head back to look at the ceiling. "And I aslo have no clue what I'm doing here! I should be driving home, mourning Stella, still mourning Jade, not... not in here with you, the one I was told to avoid!"
The wind whipped and picked up speed. Another branch outside smacked against the window-pane, followed by a crackling of thunder.
Oh, great, a storm.
Arielle hated thunderstorms.
"Blood... note... on wall... not... allowed..." It was the longest sentence the specter had uttered so far, and each word came out as wheezing, painful, strained.
"Blood note? What the—" She froze, her extremities icing over. The spirit knew about her words drawn inside the closet? "How the fuck did you—"
"—Know... everything..."
"Um..." A burgeoning lump swelled at the top of Arielle's throat. "Okay, well, what about it?"
Branches still slashed at the windows, and the moonlight flickered like a candle flame, flashing all over the walls surrounding them. More thunder boomed, closer this time. Seconds later, a blinding streak of lightning illuminated the entire downstairs and upstairs landing. Arielle had to cover her eyes from its intensity.
"Erase... it..." When Arielle took a step back, the breeze swooshed forward.
It'll accompany me wherever I go, huh?
"O-okay... why? No one else is here, no one will see it—"
"—Erase... it...!" The tone turned deep, growling, less weak than it had been seconds before.
Trying and failing to gulp down the lump at the base of her neck, Arielle shrugged. "Well... fine, but I... I have nothing to wipe it off with." She imagined her words had already dried onto the paint by now, but if this thing wanted her to scrub it, she would. Maybe that would provide some distraction for her to get the fuck out.
A spirit who talks... wants me to clean... ask questions... what sort of horror movie is this?
The ghost-breeze twirled by her, the floorboards groaning though it appeared weightless and shouldn't have made such noise. "Follow..."
Arielle didn't want to follow. No, this was it; this was the moment she'd need to use to bolt downstairs and force the damn door open. The wind flew farther from her, leaving the stairs unblocked, leaving her access to get away—
As if reading her thoughts, the wind whooshed up to her, its glacial sensation caressing her cheeks and caking them with icicles. "Come... now..."
Wondering if she'd get another opportunity like this one, Arielle rolled her eyes and trudged after the spirit. Her legs were like lead, her feet so numb she wasn't certain how she was able to walk.
Penny led her to the third bedroom. A smaller, dustier one, with a stench Arielle couldn't identify but that woke pains in her stomach that added to her growing angst. "Okay, what's in here?"
The wind-spirit zoomed over to a blob on the floor and lifted it—but it wasn't a blob, it was a rag. Penny threw it at her, and she ducked before it sloshed into her face.
"Hey! No need for that!" She picked up the cloth and gagged. It had that moldy, used-for-too-long smell that sponges and towels got when they needed to be tossed or cleaned. "Gross."
Nonetheless, she took it with her as Penny urged her out of the room and down the balcony to the other bedroom, where she stopped, moaned, and magically kicked the door open.
"Go... do it..."
Thunder cracked, lightning swept in, but this time Arielle didn't cover her sight. She watched as the bright light illuminated the gust-being, showed the faintest of traces of eyes, a mouth, long hair with frayed ends, a bulky dress—
Then nothing. The moment the light left the landing, only the swirling dust remained.
"Now!"
Arielle gaped at the door, then at the being she might have seen. "You... aren't coming in with me? To watch?"
A bone-rattling sound erupted from the spirit, exiting from where its mouth might have been. It prompted Arielle to crouch.
"Nice... try..."
Arielle's heart-rate raced.
She knows. She's aware I'm trying to distract her. Shit.
Were ghosts in movies always this smart?
Grumbling under her breath, Arielle wobbled over to the closet, slid inside, and got to her knees. She easily found her message—the blood still shiny and the L still smeared—and with a huff, she proceeded to scrub.
And scrub. And scrub more. But try as she might, the letters seemed tattooed on the surface, and wouldn't come off completely. But at least they no longer shined and only appeared as old stains that one could only read by leaning in super close. Hopefully that would do for this Penny chick.
When she hobbled out into the hallway, Arielle noticed thick raindrops splattering onto the windows. They were so loud they nearly muffled the sound of Penny's wind spiraling, more and more animated.
"Done..."
"Yeah, done," said Arielle, flinching at the idea of the ghost checking her work. "Good enough."
The wind's direction changed. Where it used to billow sideways, around and around like a hurricane, it now shot up, though still outlining the being it concealed. "More... questions..."
Though fear was still her dominant emotion, throbbing in her temples, biting at her heart, chewing at her soul, Arielle sensed irritation joining it. Sweat beaded at her forehead. "No. I need to leave, Penny. This isn't right, I... I did nothing to you. You can't keep me here!"
"Know... too... much..."
Arielle's cheeks filled with oxygen and she puffed it out, her foot tapping to the ground. "I don't, you freak!" Penny's wind seemed to thicken, drawing up to the ceiling, becoming so intense it knocked Arielle a few feet back. "Yeah, you're mad? Well, so am I! My two best friends are dead, Penny. Dead! And I'm locked in this place playing your s-stupid game that I ignore the rules to, and you're freaking me out!"
"Good..."
Arielle's brows laced together. The lump still lodged in her throat exploded, its contents gushing down her throat and dropping somewhere into her intestines. "Good? You're happy that you're torturing me? Look, if you're some kind of sick vengeful spirit like the ones we see in TV shows..." She paused and laughed at her own words—vengeful spirit? Those weren't real. She was willing to accept ghosts existed, since she had one gyrating furiously in front of her, but evil ones? Ones who trapped people in houses to exploit their fears and torment them? No. "Let me go, okay? Let me go."
"No." The gust brushed closer, swooping through Arielle's curls. Sending ice and fire jolts up and down her neck and jabbing needles into her hands and legs and feet.
She yelped and hurled away from it, sickened by the sensations it caused in her gut. "No, you! What do you want, huh? What do you want from me?" Her lungs pulled and tightened and seared in agony, but she ignored them. Once she got out—if she did—she'd go straight to a doctor. "Y-you're a ghost who can communicate! You could spread the word of how to save us all, you could help people but you-re h-here, traumatizing me? What do you really want, Penny?"
Rain continued to hound the window-pane, so fast and furious Arielle wondered if the glass would shatter.
That would give me weapons... bits of glass...
Thunder crackled, so strong it shook the house's foundations, hammered against the front door, pecked at the walls. If she was lucky, maybe the storm would save her, somehow. Maybe the winds it conjured would blow the door down.
"Ask... your... question..."
"My question? I've been asking questions. I've done everything you've requested." Adding to the fright and rage, sorrow bloomed in her heart, slowing its beats but filling her mind with nostalgia. With an aching longing, a desire to huddle to the ground and cry until this creature left her alone. "I-I... have nothing to ask, Penny. Please, let me go."
No matter the pleading in her tone, the ghost wouldn't relent. She revolved, her gusts whipping around faster and faster, matching the storm outside. "You... forgot... one..." She let out a low growl, so close to a moan of satisfaction it made Arielle's eyes prickle with tears of fear. "Your... favorite..."
"M-my favorite?" A favorite question, it said; a question Arielle enjoyed asking, something she forgot, something seen as hers—
Oh shit.
Penny wanted her to ask the question again. The one she'd asked in the Junior High parking lot, its answer still echoing in her cranium whenever she closed her eyes to sleep.
"What... happens after death? That one?" The wind nodded. How, Arielle wasn't sure, but it bobbed up and down, confirming her words. "But you... you already answered that. Why would I want to ask again?"
Penny croaked; a sickening, obscure crackle of sound that seemed to be a laugh. "I... can... tell you..."
Arielle stepped backwards and tripped over something, forcing her to fall down hard on her behind. "W-what? I thought you said—"
"—I can... give... answers..." Her voice was changing; no longer as muffled and distant, but smoother, more feminine, more present. "I... can help..." Less drawn out, more real. "Answers."
It went against every fiber in her being, and something in the rear of her skull screeched at her not to say it, but Arielle pushed herself onto her hands and knees and gawked up at the breezy being. "How?"
The cackle from earlier happened again—witch-like and heavy, distorted. "Only... death... gives... answers."
Arielle fumbled to stand up and scamper away from Penny. "Death? You... you want me to d-die?"
She laughed again, nodding. "Yes... death... will... answer you."
Arielle shook her head. Slow at first, wary of how dizzy the motion made her; then faster, faster, faster as she screamed and hurdled farther away. "Ghosts can't kill," she said under her breath, chest heaving up and down, every inch of her body turning flaccid. "No, I don't... I don't want to die. No. I won't die, not here, not tonight, Penny. You've got the wrong girl." She tried to perk up, but her skin was mush and her organs jelly. "You can't kill me."
"Solution... is... simple..." Penny billowed over, approaching her frosty impossible-to-see face up to Arielle's.
But Arielle didn't want to learn this solution. She didn't want to be anywhere near Penny and death and her threats.
"I said n-no."
She kept walking backwards until her spine hit the wall. Her vision blurred so much she had no idea which part of the balcony she stood at. And with the storm winds and yammering rain outside, her hearing muffled, like her head was under water. Everything was clogging, her orifices filling with liquid—
"I'm not dying, Penny! Not by your hand!"
"We... will... see..."