Penny—and all her billowing breezes—vanished. And though the storm outside didn't stop battering the house foundations, desperate to shatter them and let Arielle out, she could finally breathe. The toxic, trapped air in her lungs blew out and allowed her to expand her rib-cage. And after two giant puffs, she collapsed against the balcony railing, somewhere between the main bedroom and the one where she'd found the rag.
Fear still paralyzed most of her motor functions. But without Penny's overwhelming hurricane of emotions swirling near her, the fog lifted a little. Enough for her to realize how much danger she was in; and how she'd underestimated the power ghosts might have.
But... ghosts can't kill, they can't. She threatened, but... she can't kill.
"R-right, Penny?" She couldn't stand, not with her legs shaking harder than they ever had in her life. She glanced at the wall, noticing its cracks near the base, its faded stains along the parts where the paper had been plastered. "You can't kill me... you're trying to scare me. Because..." She gulped. "I know too much? What, though? I've got nothing." Her body sagged against the balcony, its wooden bars indenting into her back, massaging the discomfort that had settled there.
Penny seemed to imply she'd reveal more to Arielle... if she died. Or that Arielle would find out on her own once she no longer lived. But why do that when Penny could come clean? Or contact Jade or even Stella somehow and have them tell her? They'd talk; they wouldn't be frightening and weird and cryptic like Penny was.
Would they?
"Penny? Are you there?" Though her chills had subsided and oxygen flowed freely to her lungs, she had an eerie feeling the specter hadn't abandoned the premises. No... she lurked somewhere, re-energizing herself, preparing for another round of arguments about who knew what and how much of it was allowed.
Arielle still wanted to leave, still felt like the longer she stayed, the closer she got to death. But one last hunch prompted her to sit up straight and attempt another move. One she should have tried earlier.
"Hey, Penny... where is Jade?" Her voice quivered with each word, and hesitated on Jade, but she wouldn't relent; she was too close. "Can she answer my questions? Because you keep saying you can't, wanting me to die for them. But maybe Jade won't be as mean. Maybe Jade has an alternative."
The idea of seeing her beloved best friend again packed her with well-needed relief, no matter how temporary. Her perfectly round curls, her bright eyes, her tanned skin. The voluptuous form of her waist and hips and how her back arched when she stood there, arms crossed, glaring but with a spark in her gaze.
So beautiful. I... fucking miss her.
Thunder boomed, more distant than before, though still close. Arielle whirled around and slid against the wall, watching as the tree branches whipped against the windows.
A jagged, slicing sheet of lightning pierced overhead. Its brightness blasted all over the balcony—and revealed a shape, fizzling in and out of focus, to Arielle's left, near the top of the stairs. A faint outline of a woman, with dark, long hair pooling over her shoulders. With a lacy, ancient-looking dress dropping from her waist and barely covering her bare feet. She kept her chin down, her arms steady at her sides; but Arielle had no trouble recognizing her.
The ghost from the Cemetery. Or... was she the suicide girl, from Queen's University?
Fuck...
A mix of the two? It was the same being that started to haunt her dreams a few days ago, that Jade seemed to morph into, that spooked her beyond anything she'd ever imagined. Was this Jade, but transformed, appearing as someone else because she was a ghost?
The air turned polar, and Arielle's breaths fogged out around her like earlier.
Shit.
She rubbed her upper arms and shifted to the being as its contour became more and more visible, though still shifting in and out of focus.
"No..." said the being, never lifting her head to show her expression. A few of her ebony tresses slid down to cover her forehead, to curtain her from Arielle's view. "Unavailable..."
The way she said it, the slurred and raspy voice that broke from her hidden mouth, was all too familiar to Arielle. Ice coated her heart and lungs, and her breaths became wheezy and difficult.
No... no, it can't be.
"P-Penny?" The supposed suicide girl, the dream-wanderer, the girl in front of the red door—had they all been Penny? All along? "Is that... you?"
The white-dressed woman took another small step forward. "Unavailable..."
Arielle crawled from the wall, unsure how long she had until she reached the rag-room door. "It is you. You've been..." She shook her head in disbelief. "But... yeah, y-you said that... unavailable. And you said it at the parking lot, too, huh?" The memories crept into Arielle's mind and petrified her. So many puzzle pieces, so many fragments of sentences joining here—too much. It was too much. "No... you've been telling us all this time, huh? Jade is... unavailable." She inched a little farther back. "Is she always unavailable? Is there a better time to—"
"—Always... to you..." said the girl, or the woman—her age was hard to figure out with her features concealed. She wasn't much taller than Arielle, but the gown she wore was old, worn-out, stained, frayed at the edges. The sleeves ruffled at the ends and hid her hands, but they were caked with a darkness that resembled mud... or blood.
"Wh-what the... what the fuck does that mean?" Arielle missed the swirling breeze. At least it had no form, no image to tattoo into her brain and forever freak the shit out of her whenever she closed her eyes. At least its voice was fainter, less easy to recognize, to remember. "Does she... not want to talk to me?"
The being's head cracked to the side, in slow-motion, like frames of a movie skipping, fast-forwarding, then pausing. She slithered forward again, sending Arielle hurdling backwards. She'd soon meet a dead-end, and would have to think quickly.
Stand up, say something to confuse her, dodge her—and run.
"Not... here..." said Penny, fingers twitching near her hips. "Cannot... reach..."
Another inch and Arielle's back knocked into the wall. She looked up to her right and saw the bedroom door, and used its frame to help haul herself up. "Oh yeah?" Her legs shook too much—she wasn't sure they'd be strong enough to carry her past Penny and down the stairs, but... she had no choice. "Can you... try? Like... leave and go find her or something? I'll wait here." She flinched, hoping the girl's lowered chin would halt her from seeing the fear cloaking her face, her cheeks frosty, icier than snow. All heat had left her body the moment Penny reappeared—but she forced herself to breathe. To hold down the contents of her stomach, brewing and ready to shoot out. Though that would provide a sufficient distraction for Penny, no?
No... I can't. I have to be smarter.
Penny's neck slipped to her left, and her shoulders heaved up and down, as if she were laughing. And sure enough, a few seconds later, her ear-splitting cackle shimmied through the air, as a giant streak of lightning illuminated the area. Arielle hadn't even heard the thunder—it was like the weather was out of sorts, perturbed by Penny's presence.
"Funny... but cannot... leave..." Her fingers straightened at her sides, long and thin and freaky. She stopped walking, lifted her shoulders, tilted her chin farther down. "Cannot..."
"But why? Why can't you leave? Go find her!" Heart-rate springing over hurdles like an Olympic race, Arielle refrained from letting her knees buckle. She gritted her teeth, clenched her fists. She couldn't break down—because any second now, she'd get her shot. Any second... she'd duck and drill past Penny and get the heck out. Rattle the front door, kick it, jam into it until it opened. It had to. "Or... or are you keeping her from me, on purpose, huh? Making her u-unavailable, as you claim? You... you won't let her rest in peace, will you?"
Provocation—she recalled several TV shows, reality or non, where the hosts or ghost-hunters did that. Riled up the spirits, shook better answers out of them, put themselves in danger for the truth.
I'm already in danger, and at this point, she can try to hurt me, possess me, or whatever—if she can catch me.
She flexed her toes in her shoes, straightened up, then lowered into a running stance.
"Let me... show you..." said Penny, extending her hand, sleeves cascading down her bruised and scarred arms as she pointed at Arielle. "Let me... take you... to her..."
Arielle screamed—her last resort. A shrill, temple-pounding, eardrum-exploding, straight out of a crappy horror movie screech that she hoped would divert Penny's attention for a few seconds. A few seconds was all she required.
Penny's hands clapped over her ears as her head whipped up, eyes firmly shut, chapped lips forming an o of surprise. This was it—Arielle's moment. Using every tiny ounce of energy she'd managed to maintain, she threw herself forward and brushed past the specter. Glacial chills infused in the skin of her right arm as she passed through the thing's body. Tingles shot down to her fingertips and numbed them, but she wouldn't let that stop her; she didn't need her arm, she needed her legs.
And they wouldn't fail her, not now. Faster, she hurdled down the balcony, which seemed to stretch on for days the quicker she tried to escape. Towards the middle, her shoes splashed in water, as if the rain from outside had spilled through an open window and inundated the place. But the only windows in the landing, aside from the bedrooms, were the giant ones above the front door. They were closed.
She had no time to think, to realize the similarities with the Queen's University bathroom and how its floors also flooded. It was her imagination, and this was too. So she ran, splashing, sloshing, unafraid, uncaring, desperate—
And slipped. The sole of her shoe skidded across the last few feet to the top of the stairs. She grabbed onto the banister and kept herself upright. But as she flipped around, panting, her back to the stairs, Penny poofed into view, standing tall, her eyes open. Bloodshot and black and terrifying. She snarled, but it might have been perceived as a smile if one didn't know how evil she was.
Arielle gripped the railing tight, but it was no use. Penny leaned in, snorted, and with one shove of her hands—though they went through Arielle's chest—she threw her down the stairs.
It all happened so slowly, distorted and disturbing. Tumbling, shoulders and hips and head banging on the steps as she fell to perdition, Arielle fought to stay conscious.
People don't die falling down stairs. No!
She felt as though every inch of her body had collided against the steps before she landed in a ball at the bottom, rolling until she hit the wall to the left of the front door. She smacked against it, head spinning, breaths slow and unsteady.
Shit, shit, shit! I have to get up... I have to...
She sensed a presence beside her; faint, but there nonetheless. Prying herself from the wall, she pivoted, arms on fire with pain, hands sleek and slippery, possibly bleeding. Her scalp throbbed, and a wetness started to form at her hairline, followed by intense, stabbing agony. She'd smashed her head real good, she knew; but that meant anything that happened now might be caused by hallucinations. What she needed was rest, sleep, medicine; but she had to leave.
She struggled to get onto her knees, and each movement seared her skin with aches. Her vision blurred, and tears stung her eyes—but she wouldn't stay in this crazy house another minute. Not with magical devils like Penny who pushed people down stairs.
How the fuck did she do that?
Ears ringing, she seethed, hissing under her breath as she used the wall as support, and stood. Her knees wouldn't straighten, one of her calves was numb, and something drizzled down the left side of her face. Her nose throbbed, too; she wouldn't be surprised if she'd broken it.
"What the... fuck?" The mirror. The one she'd seen when entering, its coppery designs reflecting the moonlight outside. Thunder echoed, and seconds later, a film of lightning erupted into the room, showing Arielle in the looking glass. Bloody, battered, breaking; and someone behind her.
"Huh?" She whirred around, but no one was there. "F-fucking... mirrors." She hated them; not only did she hate looking at herself in them, but she'd seen too many horror stories. Bloody Mary type stories. And she'd watched too many shows and listened to too many of Jade's tales to ever be comfortable with mirrors.
She had no idea how she was able to stand. The stairs she'd flown down were steep, wooden, hard, and she should have been knocked out or still crumbled against the wall. But something filled her with motivation, adrenaline—the yearning to get out of the house.
The mirror rattled on the wall, drawing her attention to it once more. She spun around to find it shaking. As if an earthquake had started, rumbling under the floor-boards, making the walls shudder. Faster and faster, banging against the facade, shivering. The mirror fell. It slid down and smashed at the bottom, shards exploding and settling by the broken mirror frame in a perfect semi-circle.
Shards—exactly what Arielle thought she might use to unlock the door. She grimaced as she hobbled forward, then halted, her upper thigh groaning in disagreement. "Shit."
She looked down at it, put pressure on it, but nothing stopped the agony spreading from top to bottom. And when she glanced up again, she gasped and teetered backwards—because Penny was there. Her white dress enveloping her, billowing out in an unreal breeze, her hair flying about her like she was caught in the eye of a hurricane. Her right hand rested at her side but her left lifted, as if summoning something below to rise from the ground.
"No... go away, Penny." Arielle's timbre was shattered, strained, and she cleared her throat. "You can't hurt me. You can't." She wobbled, reaching out to the specter, pleading. "Ghosts can't kill."
Penny's eyes creased. Like shiny black marbles streaking with red, they glimmered. She cocked her head, lips expanding sideways and slashing across her face like the blade of a sword. And her left hand raised higher and higher until it was level with her chin. "Are you... sure... about that?"
She pulled her fingers into a fist, and something glittery underneath her caught Arielle's attention.
The mirror shards. They were levitating, twirling, and aiming right at Arielle.
"No..."
Penny cackled, flinging her arm out in front of her. The shards whizzed as they zoomed to Arielle; and not in slow-motion this time. Each one dug into her chest, perforating her lungs, her stomach, her intestines—and her heart.
But... ghosts can't kill.