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Realistic or Modern 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 & 𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒆 | malks x heartstringss

​
my mouth is a fire escape:

the words coming out don't care that they're naked—
there is something burning in there.



Little bits of fractured light flickered all around, bright white stinging the back of Enni's eyes. She could barely see through all the smoke, the music overhead absolutely deafening in its volume making it so that she could barely hear either. Enni groaned, hands folding over her ears hoping that might help to drown out some of the noise but when it didn’t she sighed, her flimsy plastic drink cup still clasped between two fingers as she headed for the front door and slipped out onto the lawn.

More like stumbled, really. It was glaringly obvious she was more than just a little tipsy - even a fool could see that. How had that happened? The very first (and last) campus party she’d ever been to and she’d somehow managed to get completely trashed? How classy. This type of behavior was so far removed from her usual code of conduct that even she was having trouble recognizing herself. ...But this was standard behavior for recent graduates, wasn't it? No matter if it wasn't standard for Enni Koskinen; sometimes the mask just slipped. Besides, sixteen years of schooling done, only two more left to go - didn’t she deserve to let loose a little? Hadn’t she earned it after all that hard work?

Perhaps, but some part of her knew she was also making a huge mistake. Especially when she got behind the wheel of her car, choosing to ignore her blurry vision, the low humming in her eardrums, the dizzying tightness in her chest. Yeah, she definitely should not have been driving, but there was no one around to talk her out of it and Enni certainly wasn't sober enough to make her own arguments. Instead she’d brought her car, thinking she would only stay for a little while and probably not even drink, promising to meet up with friends although she knew they would most likely leave her to fend for herself within minutes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why even come in the first place?

Fortunately, her place wasn’t too far away. It didn’t take long for a drunk to cause an accident, though. It's not like it was rocket science - not even basic geometry, really. Indeed, Enni had heard stories of people getting behind the wheel inebriated only intending to drive a couple of streets and still plowing themselves head-first into oncoming traffic the very first corner they turned. And yeah, sure, maybe her situation was a bit different but the end result was more or less the same.

How exactly she had managed to drift into the opposite lane right into an oncoming pick-up was damn near a total mystery. As far as she was concerned, one second she was on her own side of the road, perfectly content to drive 35 in a 45-mph zone despite what anyone behind her might've had to say on the matter. Before she even knew what'd hit her, she was being thrown against the hard plastic of her driver’s side door, shards of glass spraying all over.

Her entire left side screamed with agony, arm already torn to shreds. She could feel blood running down the back of her neck; her face equally bloodied and aching. She could barely see, barely hear, barely feel a thing over the white-hot searing of pain. Especially not over the sound of her own screaming, let alone the heavy roar of metal scraping metal as her car careened into the guardrail, paint ruined in an instant.

When she finally came to a stop it was at the very edge of the road that she landed. Not a good sign at all. Her car teetered dangerously on the edge of the shoulder, moonlight reflecting off the water of a rocky culvert just below. Of course she panicked, hands scrambling to unbuckle her seatbelt so that she could climb out of the car and escape to safety-- only to find the seatbelt jammed. She was trapped and there wasn't a single goddamn thing she could do about it.

Then her car rocked over the edge and down she went, crashing into the ditch some 30 or 40 feet below. When the car finally slammed onto its side, windshield shattered and airbags deployed, Enni’s body was hanging limply from the driver’s seat, the only thing holding her in being that damned seatbelt... That blessed seatbelt. She was out cold before she even hit the ground.

x x x​

Hearing the details of her accident, it came as little surprise to Enni’s parents that their daughter ended up in the hospital... but the news still wasn't easy. Ending up with a brain injury, multiple broken bones, in a coma. The pictures of the crash were awful, her pretty face barely recognizable beneath all that blood. But still it was nothing compared to the real thing: how bad the bruises were, how delicate and thin her skin became while healing. Being intubated, hooked up to an IV, and needing multiple blood transfusions.

It took just under three weeks for her to pull out of the coma, three months altogether before she was released from the hospital. She’d flatlined briefly in the ambulance, or so she was told. Maybe that explained why she was struggling so much with reality now; she had died, after all. The very texture of the air felt different now, almost permanently damp like she was walking through a fog even when the forecast called for nothing but clear and sunny skies.

When she had her first hallucination, she was so horrified she thought she might die from the shock alone. Something kept jumping in and out of her peripheral vision, a shape terrifyingly dark and yet entirely shapeless, barely there at all; just a brief flicker of shadow. Even worse, the hallucinations didn’t go away no matter how much rest she got, despite her doctor’s urging that they should. Instead they grew more and more frequent, the shapes becoming more concrete, slowly developing into full-fledged figures over time. Weird distorted faces peering up at her from the corner of her eye, slowly reaching out, mangled hands grabbing for her throat, her arms, whatever they could reach.

By the time she could walk on her own again without crutches, the hallucinations had become more or less constant. Brain scans couldn’t explain them… Medication and therapy did nothing. Meditation was a joke. Her doctors tried to tell her it was probably just stress, but something about that excuse just -- didn’t feel right. She’d been stressed before, yet never had she experienced anything quite like this. Never before had she been so afraid, or felt such terror.

So instead she turned to the internet... and of course, all it took was one Google search to immediately regret that decision.

Was it possible she might be developing schizophrenia? It seemed unlikely considering that nothing had shown up on the brain scans and the disease didn’t run in her family. Her doctor had even prescribed an antipsychotic and not even that had made the hallucinations go away. All it did was make her feel like shit, in the long run, so she stopped taking it. Then another thought occurred - what if they were never even hallucinations in the first place...?

She spiraled down into a dark rabbit hole of a search from there, one which eventually led her to a page on ghost hauntings and malevolent spirits. She’d always been a skeptic on these topics in the past but now she wasn't so sure; all of a sudden, anything seemed possible. In fact, it was very hard to deny the coincidence of just how similar her own experiences were compared to those described in the articles she found. And that was terrifying-- almost scarier than the hallucinations themselves.

"Newly developed sightings can at times be brought on by recent trauma, such as (...) including brain injury" ​
​
"Near-death and out-of-body experiences leads to subject claiming they can see spirits, ghosts, apparitions"​

Her fingers drifted to a spot just behind her left ear, touching skin that was tight and puffy that just 6 months ago had been nothing but smooth. In the development of her search she’d also happened upon a list of resources, phone numbers she could reach out to if she had any questions. A few paranormal research doctors, dozens of churches, hundreds of psychics. She took note of a few of the top psychics and looked into which ones might have been the closest.

Only one was local, another three within at least an hour’s drive. Enni scrapped the rest of the list and dialed in the local one, noting the strange name -- Safiya de Leon -- and then immediately feeling like a hypocrite having to remind herself that her name was also a bit foreign and she shouldn't be so quick to judge anyway.

The phone rang three times before a voice picked up. Definitely female - at least that was a relief. Had the psychic been a male, Enni was sure she would have been a lot more uncomfortable. (...Shoot, why hadn’t she worked out some kind of script beforehand?)

“Hi!” she started off, maybe just a touch too chipper. In her nervousness she fumbled the pencil in her left hand, the thin stick of wood slipping out of her fingers and falling to the floor. She mumbled a curse beneath her breath, promptly bending down to collect the pencil before suddenly stopping when a flash of movement in the corner of her eye made her blood run cold. Her head slammed against the edge of her desk in the process and a low groan slipped from her lips, followed by a sound of surprise when she remembered that she was still connected to a call.

“Sorry, ah-- hi, my name is Enni Koskinen, and I…” she trailed off, briefly distracted as she rubbed the knot on her forehead where she’d hit her head against the side of her desk. Ouch. “I’m sorry, I-- I don’t really know what to say. I think I might need your help?”

After some prompting from the psychic, Enni slowly began to launch into an explanation of what she’d been experiencing. She told Safiya about her accident, her coma, her brain injury. She withheld the part about her drunk driving, though; too ashamed to admit that even in the privacy of her own mind, let alone aloud to a complete stranger.

Finally she began detailing the different things she had seen over the course of the last several months, telling Safiya about the strange shadows she had been seeing, how they seemed entirely intent on terrorizing her every waking moment. How she wasn’t even working anymore, that's how bad her paranoia had gotten. She'd had to quit her job, now fully reliant on government short-term disability and the goodness of her own parents’ hearts in order to survive. She still had her own place at least, but probably not for long if she didn’t get her feet back underneath her soon.

“So, um-- long story but I just really, really need your help. I need to get back to normal here, but I can’t -- not on my own. I don’t even know where to begin.” And God, she was just so tired.

According to Safiya de Leon, the starting point was a house visit. Simple enough, right? However, when Safiya asked for her address Enni stumbled before finally spitting it out. “You said the 18th, right?” She asked next, looking back to her notes and quickly scribbling down the date. Just 2 days away. “Okay, thank you.”

When the conversation ended she breathed a sigh of relief before promptly dropping her face into her hands and beginning to cry. It should have made her sad, but instead it was ironic. Despite her tears and the slight tremor of her shoulders, Enni felt a lot more relaxed than she had in months, actually. This was a beginning to an end, right? Or at least a hopeful start. Assuming everything went well…

Then again, there was no way to know for sure. Only time would tell the truth... and Enni still had another two days to get through first.



< enni's bio >​
coded by natasha.​
 
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safiya de leon
the ghost hunter

There was a strange wind blowing through Pyrebrook.

One might argue that any wind in this town would be the odd sort. With it's fog cloaked mornings and sleepy, historic streets, Pyrebrook inspired uncanny thoughts in anybody living there. For the travellers passing through, it might seem almost dream-like; hazy and not quite real the next day. It was just that type of city.

But these past weeks in particular have been bizzare, even for mysterious, cold places such as this.

There wasn't quite a word for it. Calling it simply a feeling would make it seem like something fleeting - the best Safiya could describe it as would be a bone-deep, persistent sense of wrong. Like being in a too quiet forest, or feeling eyes on the back of your head with nobody around. It followed everywhere she went, an oppressive cloud of realisation that something terrible is on the horizon. She chalked it up to the weather or seasonal nervousness, at first, until it was clear it wasn't just her that could feel it.

The ghosts have gone quiet. They never do that - even when she wasn't working, they always claw at the edge of her hearing, a thousand dead voices competing for her attention. She's used to it, after years of hearing them. Nowadays, she can tune it out, like simply lowering the volume on a radio. But it's always there and even if at times she wished for blessed silence, she never realised how off it would feel for the whispers to be gone. She has to physically concentrate to hear them again, And it's not just that; they've been anxious, these days. Ghosts never actively avoided her like now. Some want to talk to her, some would rather choke the life out of her and most just want peace - but she hasn't seen them acting like this before.

Like something was scaring them.

Safiya noticed it when she tried to talk to the ghost haunting the motel room next door. An old woman, with wispy hair and rose printed skirt - stabbed to death and perfectly polite. She floated into Safiya's room on occasion and maybe fluttered the curtains a bit, or sat by the beds of those who rented the room she claimed, but nothing more. Safiya tried talking to her one night when she saw the woman by the railing outside. Nothing in particular, really, just a small conversation. And yet, to her surprise, the woman did not answer. All Safiya got was a stare and incomprehensible wail before she disappeared into thin air.

Odd, as the woman was never skittish before. Safiya thought it was just an isolated accident, but it quickly turned out it truly wasn't. Whenever she tries to coax out a ghost for a talk, they ran off like they're the ones supposed to be spooked. It was worrisome and even weirder was the fact that they didn't seem to be scared of Safiya. Not her, but something that she's not aware of.

It worried her; and yet, what was there to do? Life couldn't simply stop because of a strange feeling and so Safiya didn't chase it.

As it turned out, the strangeness was the one who came to her.

The cafe she was sitting in was small, but comfortably so; it was a welcome change from the greyness outside. Fog pressed on the windows outside, like an animal waiting to pounce and a chill poured into the town. In contrast, the cafe was brightly lit, colorfully decorated and tightly filled with modern wooden tables. It seemed more a place for young couples or students, but Safiya enjoyed it's atmosphere anyway. Her hands were held around a black coffee, the warmth seeping into cold limbs. For a few moments, she was content to simply listen to the background noise of chatter and the buzzing of the TV.

' - were all found dead. Their neighbour, Mackenzie Ruther, reported that David was a calm and kind man and was never violent. She says that he only started to act differently a month ago, shortly after -'

''Another murder? It's the third this month.'' One of the workers commented, leaning out from behind the counter. A chicly dressed patron shook his head as he watched the TV fixed on the wall. ''It's kind of creepy at this point. You think it's something related to a cult?'' The two entered a casual debate, but Safiya was hardly listening. Her eyes were focused on the screen, the image of a middle-aged man hugging a teenage girl coming on. They're both smiling.

'Local man found guilty of murdering wife and daughters'.

The news prattled on about what a beloved father he was and how nobody saw it coming. About how he started becoming paranoid and aggressive out of nowhere. The words were ringing in the back of her head, but Safiya couldn't quite point a finger at why. She wasn't obsessed with knowing every little thing that happened, but that sounded awfully like the other murders that happened some weeks ago. The thought made her eyebrows furrow, taking another sip of her bitter coffee. Was it -

A sharp ring cut through the thought before Safiya could finish it. Her phone was ringing, an unknown number flashing over the screen. The woman only stared at it for a second or two before taking it up, accepting the call. So much for a peaceful day.

''De Leon speaking.'' She started, blandly polite.

'Hi!' The voice on the other line answered - definitively feminine and almost nervously cheerful. The greeting was quickly followed by the sound of a dull hit and a pained groan that made Safiya's eyebrow shoot up. She had the decency not to comment on whatever just happened to the other. Not that she needed to - the woman calling spoke up a second after, introducing herself as Enni Koskinen. The name was unfamiliar and distinctly foreign, though she had no time to linger on it.

'I don’t really know what to say. I think I might need your help?'

Now that caught Safiya's attention. She blinked sharply, her mind quickly shifting into business mode. ''Ah, I see.'' The phone exchanged hands as she turned her head towards the window, watching the fog twist and turn outside. ''What kind of problems do you have?''

And then the other started to talk; about a bad car accident and the resulting coma. A traumatic brain injury that seemed to cause hallucinations. Except, when the woman explained further, it sounded like something much more sinister than anything related to injury. Shadows - growing more formed as time went on - that seemed to haunt her every moment they could. Now, in cases like this, Safiya would usually recommend visiting a medical professional; she might be a psychic, having seen things a normal person would only pick up during sleep and awareness or as ripples in the air, but even she understood that the human mind is a strange thing. Not everything had a supernatural explanation, especially after something so traumatic. But if medicine truly didn't help and if things are only spiralling down...

Then the answer might lie in the brain injury itself.

It wasn't unheard of. People bought back from the grasp of death, blabbering about heaven and hell and a world just beyond our vision. Some recover and others never do; the flashes of something in the corner of their eyes stay. Safiya knew not everybody had to be born with strange blood running in their veins to see or hear ghosts, but this was the first time she was actually dealing with a case like this. Her manicured finger tapped against the wooden table thoughtfully, mind churning over the new information. If her other hand was not occupied, she would probably have already folded them under her chin as was her habit. It made her look like a pretentious philosophy professor, but it helped her think more clearly. ''Well...'' she started when the story came to an end, thinking of what to say. ''That certainly sounds troublesome.'' Leave it up to Safiya to call something that's causing a person to grow ever more paranoid simply 'troublesome'. She never claimed to have a way with words, but thankfully for them both, she wasn't usually sought out for her conversational skills.

She was much, much better when it came to things of the supernatural variety.

Safiya couldn't help but feel a tang of sympathy for this woman, though. She obviously sounded confused and exhausted, the result of what must have been trying past few months. ''Perhaps we can start with a house visit and start from there, if that's alright with you?'' it would be the best way to see what was going on (if there was anything going on outside the other's brain) and figure out what to do about it. The woman agreed and they settled on a date - just two days from now. The conversation ended with a polite promise to call before the house visit and Safiya slid the phone back to it's place next to the coffee. It was a tad colder in her hands, now. With her ears tuned for the background chatter again, Safiya glanced outside again.

It could just be her, but it almost seemed like the fog has grown thicker.

◉ ◉ ◉

The two days passed without any special notice and before she knew it, it was the day of the house visit.

It was a cloudy day, with no sun to be seen, but that didn't stop Safiya from wearing a pair of large sunglasses anyway. Rain drizzled outside, hitting against her windshield as she drove from one street to another. The address Enni Koskinen gave her wasn't familiar, but not too hard to find - Pyrebrook was not so large as to completely lose yourself in it. It took maybe half an hour before she found herself in a rather plain neighbourhood - the houses seemed to wash into one in the rain. It didn't seem like anything too fancy or too sketchy, just another neighbourhood in the sea of many. Safiya squinted over her wheel as she stared down the numbers, until her gaze caught on the one she was looking for. And there was the house, waiting.

She parked her car on the empty sidewalk, grabbing her bag before stepping into the rainy day outside. Her car creaked ominously when she slammed the door and Safiya cringed in sympathy - it worked just fine, but she sometimes forgot her car has seen better days. She locked it quickly before starting to walk briskly towards the house's entrance, high heels clanking against the cement beneath.

There was no sight of activity - ghost or otherwise - but Safiya called yesterday to make sure they're still on, so she was sure the woman must be somewhere in the house. Safiya paused by the door, ringing the bell; the sound resounded sharply inside. She only had too wait for a few moments before she heard the sound of shifting behind the door. It unlocked with a small click, revealing the owner.

She... wasn't quite Safiya expected her to be. Really, she wasn't even sure what she was expecting - someone exceptionally forgettable, maybe. But it made a strange sort of sense for the owner of the worried voice to be a small, short woman with soft features. The other was feminine in a more gentle way, though there was distinct tiredness beneath all that. Like she hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while.

Safiya offered a thin smile that was partly stifled by her sunglasses. ''Ms. Koskinen?'' She said cooly, glancing over the other in polite observation. ''I'm Safiya de Leon, the psychic. I'm here for a house visit, if you remember?'' Nobody would forget an appointment so quick, probably, even when still recovering from a brain injury.

But it doesn't matter. She was confident she would be done with this before they both know it. Safiya has yet to meet a ghost she couldn't best and she doubted she will anytime soon.
cafe, enni's house
just fine
click
npcs & enni
coded by natasha.
 
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can you save me?
—can you at least save my soul?


Enni knows there’s something out there. She can feel its presence in the hallway before she’s even left the room, can sense it by the hairs standing up on the back of her neck, the goosebumps raised like braille along every inch of exposed skin. After months of dealing with these odd occurrences, it’s become almost second nature for her to wake immediately when the air changes. It didn’t matter how deeply she might’ve been asleep - as soon as something was felt, she always shot right up in bed. It felt like she'd been given a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart.

Her breathing was strained but quiet, low so as not to be heard by whatever might’ve been wandering in the hall. If not for the past few months of weirdness, she might’ve grabbed for a bat or something, anything she could’ve used to defend herself. Any normal person might’ve assumed there was an intruder, but Enni knew that wasn’t it. Ask her how she knew and she wouldn’t be able to tell you though. It was just an intuition, a feeling. Although the lack of footsteps in the hall was comforting, the presence of a shadow was a bit more damning. How could something have a shadow but not a physical body?

Enni wasn’t sure she’d ever know the answer. There was at least a glimmer of hope on the horizon now - if this appointment with the psychic she’d called panned out. She was skeptical, though it seemed promising. The woman had been entirely professional on the phone, never once jumping to conclusions. She let her tell her story and then offered a solution right away, a home visit presenting a chance the two of them might be able to figure things out together. It was nice to think she might not have to go all alone much longer, that someone out there might be able to help. If the woman didn’t turn out to be a total quack, that is.

Why was she even thinking about this right now? All while that thing was still out there, stalking around in the hallway right outside her bedroom door! She could still hear the ragged quality of its breath, though she wasn’t sure the thing even had lungs in the first place. It made her wonder, if the thing didn’t have a physical body and therefore likely was no longer alive, why did it still breathe then? Perhaps just a tactic to amplify suspense? Whatever the reason, it was working.

Just then, Enni saw something start to creep around the door frame. Another shadow? No, that was certainly a hand, but... as soon as she turned her head to take a closer look, it flickered out of focus. She turned back, peeking at the doorway from her peripherals. Terror gripped her spine, breath stalling in her lungs when she observed that the hand creeping around the frame had no skin. Only dark scraps of wet muscle gripped the bone, raggedly torn and oozing some kind of fluid, dark like blood but thick as tar. It streamed down the side of the thing’s hand and dripped slowly to the floor, huge droplets landing upon the hardwood.

Her heart hammered in her chest. The hallucinations were getting worse, too real for her to handle. Could she even call them hallucinations anymore, knowing damn well that anything they touched they would also leave behind a mark? The fluid oozing to the floor. A stain of fingerprints along the wall. She’d had to clean up after them before. God, how many rolls of paper towels had she gone through in the past couple months cleaning up blood that wasn’t hers? Honestly, she’d lost count.

Enni willed herself to close her eyes and turn away. She tried to think of something else, tried to imagine herself not here but anywhere else. Someplace safe. Even as she willed herself to calm, she could feel the thing creeping farther and farther into the room. Its breath grew more ragged. More liquid dripped to the floor, leaving behind a bloody trail in its wake. The temperature of the air dipped at least ten degrees. Her terror was a very real thing now, something huge slowly filling the room just the same as the monster did. She was shaking so hard she could feel her teeth beginning to chatter. She didn’t dare open her eyes.

And then it was gone. It whooshed out of the room like a bird from a nest, creating a stir that ruffled her hair. Enni peeked her eyes open and was immediately confused. She struggled to understand until she registered the sound of her phone ringing. Who could that be? She grabbed the device from her bedside table and checked the time while she was at it. It was still early - the psychic would be here later today. The call was from her father. Enni sighed, a deep sense of calm flooding her entire body. She settled back against her headboard and answered the call. Hopefully the next few hours would be quieter.



x x x​



They were, though Enni never quite recovered from the incident this morning. Once she’d hung up with her father, she’d gotten out of bed and taken a shower - a long one. She brushed her teeth, spitting toothpaste down the drain while she lathered soap into her hair. She hadn’t cleaned up the mess left from the thing but planned on getting to it once she finished with her shower. Or maybe she shouldn’t. Should she leave it? Would the psychic want to see, perhaps even be able to make something out of it? Enni leaned her head against the shower wall and let out a long sigh, wishing for a better life. She’d been doing that a lot here lately and she hated it. Self-pity had become an all-new frame of mind and it made her feel weak, useless.

When she finished washing, Enni stepped out of the shower and began to dry off. She avoided looking down at her body, avoided her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t stand to see the scars, though she knew exactly what they looked like. She could trace them from memory without even trying. She worked her fingers through her hair instead, untangling knots before eventually grabbing her blow dryer. Once it was most of the way dry, she pulled her hair back and twisted it into a messy knot at the back of her head, using a thin rubber band from around her wrist to tie it all together. She dressed quickly, pulling on underwear, a soft beige cashmere sweater, a pair of slim black pants. She left off her socks and shoes for now.

She’d wasted two hours by this point. As she headed to the kitchen she fumbled with her phone, taking pictures of the mess left behind from the thing this morning. Just in case if it disappeared. That had happened before too - not often, but often enough she'd developed a back-up plan response.

Enni was eating lunch at the counter when the doorbell rang. She jumped, startled, forgetting the time. The motion knocked her cup off the counter and sent it flying to the floor, spilling a small amount of water. Enni cursed, grabbing a towel from the front of the oven and tossed it over the mess. At least it wasn’t glass - she resolved to deal with that later, once the psychic was gone. Padding carefully to the sink, she filled a new cup with water and tossed back a small handful of pills before she forgot about them entirely. She left her phone on the counter while she went to answer the door.

The psychic wasn’t what she had expected, either. Her voice had sounded young on the phone, yet somehow Enni had still imagined her older, at least her parents’ age. Instead, the girl standing on her front porch was barely a couple years older than herself. It made her raise her brow, though she observed the air of professionalism was still there, at least. She was dressed nicely, and she remembered her name. She even pronounced it right, which was rare.

Enni wasn’t sure how to feel. On the one hand, she was relieved and on the other, she was too exhausted for joy. All but entirely numb to her surroundings. She tried to muster up a smile but was sure it probably fell flat. “Just Enni, please,” she offered, resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose at being greeted by her last name. “Thank you so much for coming,” she continued. Noticing the rain, she quickly stepped aside to let the psychic into her home. "I'm sorry, I-- honestly, I didn't even realize it was raining." She rubbed her forearm absently, feeling foolish in the aftermath. There were a lot of things Enni wasn't noticing as easily nowadays, so this wasn't too out of the ordinary.

Once Safiya had moved inside, Enni shut the door behind her and locked the deadbolt as per habit. She flipped on the lights walking from the entryway into the living room, eyes dancing from room to room as she moved about. She felt oddly self-conscious, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Her home wasn't much, even for a rental, but it certainly wasn't ugly either. A small two-bed, one-bath built in the 80s, fairly modest in appearance. Although it was fully furnished and aptly decorated, most of the house - save for the kitchen and the master bedroom - preserved an air of being somehow barely lived in.

The most personally revealing feature of Enni's home, perhaps, was her clear love of books. Shelves lined the walls of every room, some full, others still empty or clearly in the process of being filled. A few of the shelves just held knick-knack - small treasures like the occasional framed photograph, a dusty typewriter, an old film camera. It wasn’t a living situation Enni had ever been particularly ashamed of, though she wasn’t exactly full of pride either. It just was what it was, simple as that. In all fairness, considering she didn't have company over that often to begin with, her nervousness at letting a total stranger in now was probably perfectly reasonable.

“...So, how does this work?” Enni asked, unsure what to do with her face, her hands - her entire body, actually. She reached up, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered briefly on her scar before she let loose a sigh and finally dropped her arms back to her sides. She felt like a stranger in her own skin. “Do you just walk around on your own... do I guide you through the house, do I--? I mean, there’s some stuff I can show you, but I'm not sure exactly what’ll help.”



< outfit: click ! click ! >​
coded by natasha.​
 
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safiya de leon
the ghost hunter

If there was any doubt about the tiredness lurking beneath the other's skin, it was quickly struck down by the other's smile. It was a weary, thin thing, just as flat as Safiya's own - though definitively not the same breed. Enni's seemed more the smile of a person that's more exhausted than they can hide easily. Looks like this is as serious as the phone call two days ago made it seem. 'Just Enni, please,' the other said, thanking her for coming. Safiya hesitated for a moment before nodding, albeit somewhat hesitantly. She never liked crossing that border between stiff politeness and first names, but she's long learned some people insist on it.

''Just Enni, then.'' She added, tone still cool.

She was glad to be out of the rain and cold pouring outside, though. The inside wasn't much warmer, but it was still a welcome change for her chilled hands. Safiya glanced around, though there was not much to see standing in the entryway - and not much to see when Enni started leading her deeper into the house, either. It's not that the place was bare, but it was just... unpersonable. Bland. You could replace the woman next to her with any other person and they'd still fit in. That wasn't too surprising, she supposed, seeing as it's owner is a young woman that's probably only getting her legs under her. There was simply no need for extravagance when you aren't planning on settling in. She supposed she's the same, in that regard.

Except this place is... a lot more organized than her rented rooms tend to be. Not that Safiya didn't clean or was a slob. Her room was just... creatively organized. Let's leave it at that.

There were a few items that gave the scene a more personal touch. Enni was obviously a book person, Safiya noted appreciatively. Books of various colors and sizes lined the shelves, accompanied by a few other trinkets - some photos, a typewriter that looked like it needed a good dusting, a film camera. All pieces of a greater puzzle adding up to who Enni must be. The psychic observed the living room politely, taking care not to linger her gaze for too long. It was nice enough, but she isn't here to give her personal judgment of the other's decoration choices.

Enni spoke up right after, obviously a bit nervous. 'So, how does this work?' She asked, seemingly unsure of where to look or what to do - which was only to be expected. Most of the people she's worked for act like that at the beginning, when they're barely starting to work out a world they've never known before. Plus, it's not like Safiya explained the process to her. Safiya took pity on her questions, grasping around in her pocket for her trusty notepad and pen before pulling them out. She flicked it open, glancing at the scribbles written across the lines. A small, cartoonish ghost she drew stared at her from the corner. ''I suppose some questions are in order, if that's alright?'' She didn't wait for a confirmation, glancing up to meet Enni's eye. ''You say you've been seeing shadows that are now figures. Right, so. What do they do, exactly? Do they touch anything? Touch you?'' The woman wrote the questions down in almost illegible chicken stratch - though she didn't get as far as getting an answer.

Thud.

A dull sound coming from somewhere inside the house made her head snap up, eyes intent. She thought she saw something flicker at the very end of the hallway - but it was gone as quick as it was there, making her wonder if it was there at all. Safiya paused, snapping the notepad closed.

The house was silent. Like it was holding it's breath for something, anything to happen - but the silence still hung over it as if a blanket. No further sounds came.

She could feel it, though. A shift in the air, like a change of temperature. There was something in the house with them, she knew and it noticed her. Safiya closed her eyes for a heartbeat, concentrating; she tried clearing her mind, searching for a voice in the white noise of her head. It didn't take as long as she thought to find it - a barely there scratching on the edge of her hearing. Safiya focused on it further, becoming clearer and clearer.

It sounded like it was laughing. She got the distinct feeling it was mocking her.

Safiya opened her eyes, lips pursing. The woman flicked the notepad open like she was trying to prove a point, adding a new sentence in bold letters. 'the ghost - probably an ass.' ''And do you mind showing me where you last saw this figure?'' She asked, brows pinched together. She supposed if a ghost was friendly and peaceful that people would feel no need to call her. But she still wasn't looking forward to this - or, maybe? At least she has an excuse to be smug one after exorcising an asshole ghost to the next dimension. Or Heaven or Hell or wherever souls go after death and hauntings.

''Anything you can tell me might help, no matter how small the detail.''
enni's house
just fine
click
ghost & enni
coded by natasha.
 
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can you save me?
—can you at least save my soul?


When Safiya first began to grasp around in her pockets, Enni observed the other closely, gaze lingering far longer than seemed truly necessary for such a small, unimportant task. It was a look that implied a great degree of wariness, though when the woman pulled out only a simple pen and pad of paper, the look relaxed then, and so too did her shoulders. Settling down, she watched Safiya flip open the notepad, peeking across the few feet of distance to look upon the page. She observed a vague hint of scribbles across thin blue lines but couldn’t read what they said; there also seemed to be something drawn into the bottom right-hand corner of the page, but she couldn’t make that out either. Though she wanted nothing more than to inch closer and read what the page said (it had to be something about her case, right? Oh, how very curious she was!), the psychic's voice stopped her short from doing just that.

Peeking up from the other's notepad, Enni caught Safiya’s gaze and nodded briefly to her question. She listened intently as the other woman asked her a few questions, writing each one down into her notepad all the while she spoke. Enni stared after the woman’s hand as it moved across the page, her movements so fast she couldn't help but think she wouldn’t have been at all surprised if the woman’s handwriting resembled something more of chicken-scratch than actual legible print. (How true that assumption was, though of course she had no way of knowing for certain.) She was just about to open her mouth to answer the other woman on her first question when a dull thud erupted from the back of the house.

At the same instant that Safiya’s head snapped up to locate the source of the interruption, Enni froze and went entirely rigid. It was probably a good thing that an event was happening now — while she already had a psychic in-house, that is — but Enni couldn’t being naturally afraid. You’d think she would have gotten used to it by now, being as often as it happened, but unfortunately she hadn't; in fact, she was pretty sure she never would. Glancing over to Safiya to gauge her reaction, the small brunette's brow furrowed to find the other woman standing with her eyes closed instead. She looked almost serene in the moment, but all Enni could think in turn was, 'What in the world is she doing?'

When the woman’s eyes flicked open a second later and her lips pursed as if highly dissatisfied with whatever she might've observed in her odd little silence, Enni made note of every single detail. She watched as the psychic flipped open her notepad and scribbled something new onto the page, all as if she was trying to prove some kind of point -- and, well, needless to say, Enni's curiosity finally got the better of her.

She wasn’t even fully aware of herself stepping closer to read what Safiya had written, just so completely lost in the moment. She only realized her closeness when she felt a small smile begin to stretch across her lips and looked up to comment on the other’s observation, only to stop short when she realized she had to crane her neck a bit higher than she had before. Her shoulders stiffened with the awkwardness as she carefully backed away, brain tuning into what Safiya had been saying right around the same time she asked her to show her where she’d seen the figure last.

“Sure,” Enni said, trying to ignore the deep spread of warmth she felt creeping across her cheeks. She nodded at the woman’s next statement, chewing her lip as she thought it over. 'Anything she could tell her', huh? No matter how small the detail...

All at once, Enni turned and walked away. She made her way into the kitchen, carefully stepping over spilled water covered by a towel to collect her phone off the counter where she'd left it. As she made her way back into the living room, she worked to pull up the pictures she’d taken this morning. Returning to Safiya’s side, she held the phone up to show her. “This happened this morning,” she said, handing the device over to the psychic so that she could flip through the pictures on her own. She watched the other’s face closely as she did, then carefully drew in a breath and began telling the story of what had happened.

“I have this one that likes to come around often,” she told her, fidgeting slightly in her discomfort. “I’ve never looked at him head-on, but he’s like a-- a corpse with all its skin peeled away. He came into my room this morning and touched—well, everything. Got up in my face like he was trying to intimidate me or something.” A look of vague disgust crossed her face with the recollection of the memory - all those bloody handprints on the doorframe, the ooze left upon the floor, the smell.

“I usually close my eyes and try to will him away, but he’s always so aggressive. Not to mention, everywhere he goes, he leaves this behind.” She waved her hand as if referencing the content of the pictures, letting out a small frustrated huff as she did. “Sometimes I have to clean it up afterwarda, but sometimes it just... disappears all on its own somehow? I left it this morning because I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see when you got here. It might still be there. Here, I’ll show you--”

Where this sudden burst of energy had come from was a mystery - perhaps it was just the act of remembering? Having someone to talk to about all of this was still fairly new. Until now, Enni had only opened up about her experiences to her father and a few of her doctors, and, well... Unfortunately, there wasn’t much that could be done to remedy a situation when you looked up and realized the person you were baring your entire soul to was looking at you like you belonged inside a mental hospital, preferably strapped down and heavily drugged.

Enni turned and led Safiya deeper into the house, making a mental note of the steep drop in temperature the closer they ventured towards the bedrooms. She'd grown used to the cold by now, hence why she wore long-sleeves even at night when she slept, but for anyone who hadn't gotten used to it yet, the cold probably would have been alarming. “Ignore the mess, sorry, I don’t-- ah, I don’t really sleep too well, so cleaning is hard to get around to sometimes.” Her tone was nervous — borderline ashamed, really — but then as soon as they rounded the corner coming up on her bedroom, her body language turned distracted more than anything else. Squinting through the low lighting in the hall, Enni checked for the handprints on the door frame, the mess she'd left behind this morning. “--Here! They’re still here!”

It was a startling, grizzly thing, the scene that would have revealed itself to Safiya then. All along one side of the door frame were smears of dark, thick ooze like blood, scraps of meat hanging off in some places. There was a trail along the floor too, first appearing a few feet away, that steadily lead into the room and all the way up to the side of her bed. Enni stared frowning at the mess, her gaze hard and distant in the moment. She looked almost... angry? In all fairness, it wasn't a look she wore too often, so it didn't particularly suit her soft features very well either.

“It’s fucking disgusting,” she spat angrily, then as soon as she registered what she'd said her head snapped up, seemingly startled at her own words. “Sorry. I mean-- well, no, because it is disgusting, but-- ah, I just don’t know.” The brunette erupted into a flurry of quick, anxious movement then: her hands scrubbed over her face, fingers raking up into her hair and finally back down her neck. “Is this normal?” She asked in a rush, gaze sweeping over to lock eyes with the psychic, all the while a look of clear desperation began to paint itself across her face. “I mean, none of this is particularly normal, of course, but—in your experience? ...I guess what I really want to know is, do you think you can help me? Can you make it stop?"


< outfit: click ! click ! >​
coded by natasha.​
 
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safiya de leon
the ghost hunter

Give them one chance to attach to you, a place, an object, anything and it will take it.

That's what her grandmother used to tell her through weak lungs and missing teeth, Safiya kneeling by the long-worn armchair where she listened as a wide-eyed child. Ghosts are transient, emotional beings; they have no body to chain them down and so they must search elsewhere for substance. For something to make them real - be it murder or madness or anger or curses. It matters little to them. As long as it's a concept to obsess, to haunt over. And sometimes, when there's nothing else left of a dead person's life, they haunt a human. Not necessarily because of a grudge, either. Parents will watch over their children or spouses over their loved ones; love is just as much as a chain as wrath. Sometimes even more so.

Thing is, though, once they're attached it's not easy to get them to leave.

Psychics are even more tempting to ghosts; the strange blood can sense them and the ghosts are hungry for it. Show a little too much empathy, a little too much attention, and the ghost will latch on to you, desperate for an anchor in the darkness of afterlife.

Livings humans are a bit the same in that regard. Show them a little too much attention and suddenly, they think you're friends.

Safiya fought not to let her discomfort show when Enni drew close to glance over her shoulder, tension coiling. She's never liked people stepping inside her personal space, not even her family - much less a stranger. She could hide it well enough not to be rude, but Safiya failed to truly stomp the uncomfortable feeling out. Not that she tried particularly hard. The woman was upfront about not being the biggest fan of people; she was no longer the awkward, odd child making clumsy attempts to fit in. Some have called her rude for it, and maybe she is. Perhaps the reason for her coldness lies in her own childhood, or maybe she was already born like this. Whatever the cause, Safiya didn't see much of a reason to hide it, not unless she is getting paid.

Which, in this case, she is. Safiya didn't say anything when Enni finally moved away, but some of the tension did leave her shoulders.

At Safiya's questions, though, the other woman walked across the kitchen only to re-appear a moment later with a phone in her hand. Enni clicked around her phone for a second before stopping near Safiya again, showing her the screen. 'This happened this morning.' Enni offered the phone and Safiya took it gently, glancing over the contents. A black, tar-like substance splattered across a door frame like a spray of arterial blood, oozing down to the floor. One of Safiya's eyebrows shoot up by itself as she flickered from picture to picture, not as much uncertain as more surprised. They don't usually do that, but it's not something she hasn't dealt with before. A regular, harmless ghost won't bo much more than make you hear or see things. Maybe flutter your curtains or slam your doors. But ghosts that are more attached to this world - again, be it anger or a brutal death or something else - will do much more. She remembers a case she helped with two or so years ago; a man moving into his dead uncle's house, only for blood to start leaking from the walls and ceiling. The guy's uncle died in a pretty sad way - killed by a random intruder looking to rob the place. The dead man's ghost was hardly happy about it, as one might imagine.

Safiya shook the memories away, concentrating on what Enni was telling her. 'I have this one that likes to come around often.' She said, obviously uncomfortable about the topic like just talking about it might bring the ghost here. 'I’ve never looked at him head-on, but he’s like a-- a corpse with all its skin peeled away. He came into my room this morning and touched—well, everything. Got up in my face like he was trying to intimidate me or something.' Disgust flickered across Enni's face, telling her just what the other thought of that.

Huh. Safiya offered back the phone, brows furrowing in thought. With her trusty notepad back in hand, the psychic scribbled Enni's words across the paper in her barely readable writing. So this ghost is leaving behind trails, and takes on a semi-physical form of a corpse? Even from hearing just that, Safiya could tell this spirit was not just some lost soul, confused and only wanting to be noticed. He obviously has some intent, if it seems like he's trying to scare Enni. And from Safiya is hearing, she severly doubts those intentions are good. The thought brought a frown to her face, tapping the pen along her chin.

'I usually close my eyes and try to will him away, but he’s always so aggressive. Not to mention, everywhere he goes, he leaves this behind.' Enni gestured vaguely in the air, talking about the black ooze of the photos. Safiya only nodded along thoughtfully as Enni talked. The more she spoke, the more it seemed like the slightly awkward energy of before changed - like Enni was in a rush to get all the words out. 'Sometimes I have to clean it up afterwards, but sometimes it just... disappears all on its own somehow? I left it this morning because I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see when you got here. It might still be there. Here, I’ll show you--'

And with a turn, Enni walked deeper into the silent house, Safiya close on her trail. The sharp drop in temperature Safiya knew to associate with the dead was hardly unexpected, but it's familiarity hardly did anything to keep her from shivering. Safiya cursed herself for not taking a thicker jacket with her - but it didn't go with her outfit, so she decided to go as she was. How very smart of her. For not the first time in her life, Safiya complained internally about her putting fashion above practicality, even though she knew she would do it again next time.

'Ignore the mess, sorry, I don’t-- ah, I don’t really sleep too well, so cleaning is hard to get around to sometimes.' Enni bumbled next to her, a bit sheepish about the state of her place. Safiya only nodded noncommitally, thinking it best not to mention that her motel room would make this house look like the definition of clean. The moment they turned the corner, though, the embarrassment was gone to be replaced by distraction as the woman squinted through the dark lightning.

'Here! They're still here!'

And then Safiya saw it.

Oh, shit. It was even worse than it looked like on the photos; the black, blood-like liquid trailed along the door frame and the floor like some kind of movie set straight out of a slasher. Chunks of meat (or as close to it as a ghost could do) clung to the black ooze like it got torn off carelessly by a dragging hand. She's seen some bad things - worse than this, much worse - and yet the sight still made Safiya curl her lips into a disgusted sneer. She was only grateful there was no smell of rot and death to add to an already unpleasant sight.

The ghost was silent at the back of her head. He was no longer laughing.

Safiya glanced at Enni, trying to gauge her reaction to all of this. The other woman seemed - angry, almost. Her soft features curved into a half-disgusted, half-angry expression as she started at the black trail ruining the room. 'It's fucking disgusting.' she spat, only to startle at her own outburst. Safiya's eyes widened a tad at her reaction, though she could hardly blame her for it. Disgusting is a bit of an understatement, yes. Enni stumbled over her own reaction awkwardly, blabbering anxiously. She seemingly didn't know what to do with her hands at the second, raking them over her face and hair and neck. And then she finally glanced up, locking her gaze with Safiya's uncertainly. 'Is this normal?' she asked, desperation making its way across her features. If it wasn't obvious before that the other was scared, that expression spelled it out in big bold letters. 'I mean, none of this is particularly normal, of course, but—in your experience? ...I guess what I really want to know is, do you think you can help me? Can you make it stop?'

Safiya held Enni's gaze for a second, two. And then she reached towards the black ooze, sliding across its texture.

Every part other than the ghost hunter in her was screaming at Safiya to not touch it, for the love of all that is holy - but she did it anyway, bringing it closer for observation. It felt like any real liquid, like she expected. The black goo was sticky across her fingers, wholly unpleasant, and Safiya's lips tightened in disgust. She seached around her pocket to pull out a handkerchief to clean it off her fingers, raising her head to observe the room before her again.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." she started, voice cool and collected and devoid of anything except bland politeness. "They'll do that sometimes, when they're trying to prove a point. As for this whole situation, well..."

Safiya let some thoughtfulness slip into her tone as she crossed her arms over her chest, glancing back at Enni. "I can't say I've ever met a person who started seeing ghosts without being born as such, but it's not impossible." She gave a thin, almost amused smile, like she was laughing at a joke only she understood. "You're one of the lucky ones, I guess." Or maybe unlucky. Depends on how much of an optimist you are.

"But as for helping you?" Safiya slid her gaze across the dark liquid trailing from the door way to the side of the bed. Tapped the wooden frame. Glanced at the ceiling, considering.

The ghost was laughing again. Safiya let her hand drop, expression set.

"I can get rid of him, sure. Though, I'm telling you right now, this ghost isn't Casper. Its not going to be as easy as snapping my fingers. Can you feel him?" Safiya started down the dark hallway, unimpressed. There was no figure, no shape looking back from the darkness. Not yet, anyways. But she could feel him lurking somewhere near and he didn't seem happy.

She thinks he's watching them.

"You said you can see them, but can you - well, maybe not. Doesn't matter. But most ghosts can't appear as whole apparitions, and they wouldn't leave something physical behind like this." Safiya gestured towards the dark not-blood, shaking her head. "Not unless something powerful is holding them in this world. Like a strong emotion, or maybe the circumstances of their death. So whatever this ghost is, I doubt its friendly." Yeah, no shit. She thinks anybody would be able to figure out that this ghost wasn't here because he simply enjoys Enni's company.

"So. I have to ask. As far as you know, did anybody die in this house? Or lived here before you?" Safiya picked up her paper and pen again, looking down at the scribbled questions. "Anything unusual that happened in this house? Or maybe a relative that recently died?"

enni's house
just fine
click
ghost & enni
coded by natasha.
 
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trying not to go insane
but i can't do it all my own


The second Safiya touched the doorframe letting her fingers trail along the texture of the black ooze, Enni made a snap judgment. All at once, she knew she’d done well by calling this psychic. Odd and disgusting as that gesture was, the woman clearly wasn’t scared. It was so important that she wasn’t scared - because Enni? Honestly, Enni was absolutely terrified.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she watched the psychic touch the frame, her hand coming away sticky, slicked with blood. When she pulled out the handkerchief to clean her fingers, Enni watched her closely then, too. Her gaze trailed across the room in sync to the psychic’s movements, wandering back to her face a second later when she began to speak.

’It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,’ she said, and God, wasn’t that a comfort? Enni released a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. Safiya’s voice was cold, hollow, but it was almost comforting. It just solidified that lack of fear. ’They’ll do that sometimes, when they’re trying to prove a point. As for this whole situation, well…’

She listened carefully to what she said next, the woman’s newly thoughtful tone and the thin smile catching her completely off-guard. ’You’re one of the lucky ones, I guess,’ she said, and Enni almost could’ve laughed. Yeah. Lucky, right.

’But as for helping you?’

... and here was the part that mattered most. Enni almost seemed to hold her breath in anticipation waiting for Safiya to continue, her shoulders stiff as she shifted in place to stand up a little straighter.

’Can you feel him?’ Safiya asked, and Enni just nodded. She could feel him now, and when he wasn’t there. It’s like he never really left, not even when the house was empty aside from everyone but her. He was watching — always watching, always taunting her. Just waiting for the perfect moment to sneak up and ruin her day, really.

Or maybe it wasn’t quite that simple.

When Safiya started down the hall moving away from the bedroom, Enni spun on her heel to follow, bare feet padding across the cold hardwood. She listened to every word the psychic said as if sitting in on a lecture where she’d just been told any bit of this information could’ve ended up on the final. In fact, she hardly registered anything else—not the temperature of the house, not the shift of energy turning vaguely hostile down the hall. Nothing but Safiya’s voice and the questions she was being asked.

’As far as you know, did anybody die in this house? Or lived here before you?’

This new direction of the conversation came as a surprise, Enni thrown for a loop as she wasn’t sure how to answer. The first thing that came to mind was that she actually had no idea whatsoever what kind of tenants might’ve lived here before her — she hadn’t thought to ask her landlord, and so he certainly hadn’t volunteered the information either.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully, worry creeping into her voice as she looked over the psychic and registered the notepad sitting in her palm. ’Anything unusual that happened in this house? Or maybe a relative that recently died?’

A relative? Did she mean one of her relatives, or a relative of one of the previous tenants? She had to mean hers, right? It certainly seemed that way. All at once, Enni’s expressed shifted to one of clear apprehension. Had she mentioned to Safiya anything about her flatlining in the accident? It hadn’t happened in the house, sure, but would that still have been relevant? She was pretty sure she’d withheld that bit, as she always did. It was something she was almost ashamed of, though as to why she wasn’t sure. It’s not like she’d died on purpose. But then, the circumstances of her accident were bad enough already, let alone with that detail added in. She’d cheated death, but she was still too ashamed of her foolishness in driving under the influence of alcohol to feel any sort of relief.

Maybe she should tell Safiya. It kind of went along this line of questioning — even if it hadn’t happened in the house, it had still happened to her, and she lived in the house. Besides that, nothing else stood out.

"I don't know, I mean, there is something I haven't told y--"

But Enni didn’t get a chance to finish.

They hadn't made it very far down the hallway when, out of nowhere, a rush of frigid cold blew past the women and overtook the bedroom. Enni stumbled back to the room, alarmed and frightened, having seen a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye and, unable to help herself, lead to chase.

This end of the house, already plenty cold to begin with, now dropped so low in temperature it was damn near icy. Any breath puffed out hung in front of their faces like a cloud, likely accompanied by the sound of chattering teeth. Goosebumps erupted all across Enni’s skin. She shivered hard, arms wrapping tight across her chest. Instinctively, she drifted closer to Safiya’s side when the woman followed her down the hall back to the doorway, this time seeking out the woman’s warmth. Or maybe it was due to fear? Either way, she hardly had a chance to read her own motives. Everything happened so fast. All she could focus on was that bone-deep cold. Just beneath that, there was a lingering sense that something very bad was about to happen — and then, it did.

A scream roared up from out of the silence, beyond angry cutting straight to pure, unadulterated rage. It was deafeningly loud, so loud that Enni cried out and rushed to cover her own ears. With the force of the yell, a spider’s web of cracks broke across the wall and shot all around the room on both sides leading up to the window. As soon as the cracks reached the windowsill, the wood splintered and the glass shattered to a million pieces. Shards of glass sprayed across the floor, the burst so strong they even reached the doorway where the two girls were standing.

Really, Enni should have been more careful, barefoot as she was, but in all truth, she hardly even noticed. If she hadn’t been afraid before, she certainly was now — and god, how it blinded her.

In matters of fight-or-flight, Enni had always before done the latter. The only reason she didn’t run now is that she was at least still lucid enough to recognize that running would have left Safiya to fend entirely for herself, and that was something she simply didn't agree with. Even if they were still strangers, she didn’t wish the psychic any harm. She was just too scared to fight, is all — and besides, how does one even fight a presence they can’t see? Whatever was the matter with this ghost, they really had little other options but to tolerate his anger and wait to see what might happen next.

Now, instead of running, Enni simply froze… but not before first darting behind the other woman (because she was still a coward, after all).

Without considering personal space boundaries, Enni’s hands shot out and grasped Safiya’s elbow. Her grip was so tight it probably hurt the other woman; with her fingers white-knuckled and locked nails-deep into her sleeve, she was no doubt leaving marks as well. Regardless of how Safiya might or might not have reacted, Enni didn’t dare release her arm. She could’ve tried to shake her off, but it would have been completely useless. Safiya would have had to pry her fingers off if she wanted to make her let go, but not even that could have shaken the brunette out of her reverie, if she had. Enni wasn’t thinking about Safiya, not in the slightest bit — not how her closeness could’ve been making the other woman uncomfortable, or how her hands might’ve hurt her. In fact, she wasn’t thinking anything at all — because she couldn’t. So far absorbed in her own fear, she felt nothing but that panic.

Pure energy, white-hot and crackling like static, pulsed a metronome throughout the room. The pressure of the air rose so steeply it made it difficult to catch your breath. With the stuttered beat of her own heart hammering loud as a thunderstorm behind her ears, only that static pulse was strong enough to pull Enni out of her terror-stricken state. She blinked hard as she came to, her brain taking a second to catch up with her body. As she refocused on the room, her eyes turned wide, an all-new but very different breed of horror settling over her features as she observed the newly shattered window, the deep cracks broken all along her wall. She couldn’t help but notice how they branched off like the roots of a tree in every which direction. How odd.

Judging by the level of destruction, one could say the spirit’s message was pretty clear:

This was a warning, and if not a warning, then it was a threat.

“I don’t think he likes your being here,” Enni mumbled, finally breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the room. Nothing else had happened, yet. Still, her throat felt uncomfortably tight, her resolve dangling right off the edge of a cliff headed straight for an abyss marked with a warning that read ‘pure panic.’ It took a long moment before she was able to calm enough to finally relent some of her hold on Safiya's arm. Though she didn’t move away, she did at least apologize.

Embarrassed, Enni brushed her hands down the length of the other woman’s arm, fingers working to smooth her sleeve where her hands had gripped too tight and bunched the fabric up around her elbow. Her touch was exceedingly gentle now, her brow pinched in concern lending the perfect explanation as to why. In retrospect, she remembered how tight her grip had been and wondered vaguely if she should ask Safiya if she was okay. (She was too scared of her answer to do it, though.)

“Nothing like this has ever happened before,” she said instead, voice trembling with the lingering fear, “I don’t even know what to say…”

Completely forgetting about the glass littered all across the floor, Enni began to step forward making to approach her bed and then immediately recoiled when a shard of glass pierced into her heel. She let out a low hiss of pain and reached for the door frame to steady her balance before grasping her ankle and lifting her foot to assess the damage. The shard was thick, but fortunately small - thick enough she could remove it on her own with any tools, that is. Holding her leg steady, she let go of her ankle and dug with her fingernails to remove the piece of glass from the center of her heel. It left a decently deep cut, a cut which bled steadily and ached like a bitch.

The blood coated along the bottom of her foot wasn’t just her own. The cut leaking crimson was a gruesome enough sight on its own, but combined with the black-tar ooze of the corpse-ghost’s droppings mixed into her own blood, it said something else entirely. Enni’s expression mirrored plain disgust. With her leg pulled back so that her heel pointed upward, the odd mix of black and crimson began to flow down the center of her foot. It snaked between her toes, thin tendrils dripping to the floor and landing in small splatters along the hardwood.

Just as soon as the black ooze mixed with Enni’s own blood, it began to seep into the cut and slowly worked its way into her bloodstream. On a molecular level, this was huge.

All of a sudden, something in the air just-- shifted.

The cold began to dissipate, but not for Enni. She was still shivering, frozen in place just staring at her foot. She hardly noticed the goosebumps this time around. It was still the exact same cold as before, for her — little did she know, that cold really was bone-deep now.

Turning her gaze back to Safiya, for the briefest of seconds, it might've seemed Enni didn't recognize who she was. Then she blinked and the confusion was gone. She shook her head to clear the oddness of the moment from her thoughts. "What the hell was that?"

< outfit: click ! click ! >
< mood: hella spooked >
< location: back to the bedroom >
< interactions: safiya, the ghost('s blood) >
coded by natasha.​
 
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safiya de leon
the ghost hunter
Something wasn't quite right.

Not the freezing cold biting it's way past her skin, or the almost humming tension of a ghost watching, no, but the way Enni was acting. It could be just her - though years of practice taught her a feeling was rarely 'just her' - but Safiya had a hunch she wasn't getting the full story here. The more she asked, the clearer the hesitation on Enni's face became and it made Safiya pause enough to reconsider. She gave the other woman a scrutinizing glance, hand holding the notepad dropping to rest on her hip.

It was hard to tell where Enni's personality began and where nervousness ended. They've only met today, of course. While she could tell that Enni was more than exhausted, from her hunched shoulders and ashen, scared face, that doesn't mean the woman wasn't already predisposed to anxiety. She seemed soft, small, and vaguely fearful - just like those teacup chihuahuas that are always cramped in designer bags. Perhaps that comparison might be taken as an insult - Safiya isn't confirming if she did or didn't mean it as such - or maybe not, if you're a painful optimist. After all, were those same chihuahuas not lavished with smooches and carried around by manicured hands?

And there's the thing. Safiya didn't know if the root of Enni's clear hesitance was her being high-strung, or something deeper. It was familiar, in a painfully nostalgic way, though; she could almost see Vincent in Enni's place, writhing his hands and worrying over a subject everybody else has long forgotten. He never could quite handle hauntings or nightmares as well as the others in their family.

...She should call home soon. Ask him if he's still avoiding the attic (the vibes there are rancid, apparently. His words, not hers), or if Safiya's mother still refuses to talk anybody outside of grandma. It's been a while since they caught up. One of these days, she whispered, pushing the thought to the back of her brain.

(Safiya knew, deep within, that she won't call. Couldn't bring herself to do it even if she wanted to.)

Whatever internal war Enni was going through apparently reached some kind of conclusion, because she spoke up only a few moments later.

'I don't know, I mean, there is something I haven't told y--'

Not that Safiya got to hear the end of it.

A piercing breeze rushed past them, burying it's cold (cold, so cold) fangs past Safiya's clothes to drag her back into the room. She couldn't do much more than stumble inside, turning on her heel in shock. The only words rattling around in that one crazy, almost terrifying second were -

What the fuck?

All at once, pressure started building right behind her skull; thick and heavy and almost painful in its intensity. She grit her teeth against the feeling of her brain bloating against too thin bone, like it was trying to break it's way out. Her hand clamped at the side of her temple, trying to stifle a feeling she knew all too well. The familiarity did nothing to help with how utterly uncomfortable it was. She couldn't think, couldn't focus past the pulsing behind her skull - her thoughts were being steadily unfolded like a ball of yarn and it was a fight in itself to keep away the mental claws trying to force their way inside her mind.

Fucking asshole of a ghost.

Safiya was only half aware of Enni startling next to her, frightened by something only she saw; the psychic staggered after her from part confused instinct and part own determination to get to the bottom of this. It was a decision she regretted a second later when the already uncomfortable chill dropped into bone-deep coldness of a tomb. She shivered hard, even through the feverish pressure threatening to overtake her. Safiya barely noticed Enni drifting closer, not over the deathly cold, the pressure and the feeling that's following her around for the past few days -

The gut-wrenching feeling that something is more wrong than she could imagine.

All at once, the pressure snapped and the ghost

screamed.

The sound couldn't be described as anything a human could make, not with how it shook the house to it's very foundations. It sounded like - there wasn't a word for it, not for the anger that ran deeper than anything mortals can know. Not that Safiya would be able to think of a fitting metaphor anyway with hands snapping to her ears a second too late. A half-cry died in her throat in shock and pain, the noise almost tearing her eardrugs with how loud it was. She could feel her fucking teeth vibrate. The dark hallway around them twisted and cracked under it's intensity, countless cracks snaking up the walls - until glass from a window splintered down on the floor like rainfall.

Safiya didn't noticed it.

Not when he's

right

behind

her.

Sickly sweet rot packed into her throat and nose, making her gag on a stench that wasn't really there. A dead tongue ran over toothless gums. Cold breath on her neck, smelling of old blood and something forgotten to rot. One of the black finger nails wiggled out of it's socket as he clutched her arm and fell to the floor. She didn't dare look. Didn't dare move her gaze past the point of the wall she was staring at.

She was terrified.

(No, she wasn't.)

Fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arm, tearing fragile skin and meat and bone. Safiya sobbed at the sharp pain - or tried to. She couldn't even cry, not when her mouth was gagged. The woman struggled against her bonds, but it was in vain. Nothing could break the bindings holding her together and her panic doubled, feeling very much like a cornered rat.

(Don't no please don't make me remember )

A flash of something sharp in the corner of her eye made her struggle even more, her terrified scream coming out as a muffled sob.

(You need to get out.)

The person behind her was talking - talking about something, but all that came out was a distorted half-whisper, like a gurgle deep inside your throat. It made her panic even more, dread closing off her chest.

(This isn't me this isn't me this isn't me )

And then she knew, with absolute certainty, that she isn't getting out of here alive.

(I said -)

The knife thrusted towards her.

(GET. OUT.)

Safiya's eyes snapped open a second late, heart pounding in rhythm of her splitting headache. It took a second or two to actually settle back into her body, limbs sluggish like they just got stuffed full of cotton. Her brain felt like it just got sawed in half. Safiya's expression could perhaps be described as one of a person fighting off severe constipation as she messaged her temple, glancing over herself to see if all of her limbs really were intact. She realised only belatedly that there were dark drops all over her (new!!!!) blouse, paiting it black. A careful touch to her nose was all it took for her fingers to come back bloody. ''Oh, shit.''

Fuck. She hates it when ghosts do that. Oh, here are some memories I guess. I know you didn't ask, but here they are anyways. Yeah, fuckload she can do with that. What is she, a ghost therapist? Why do they think that just because she's a psychic that gives them free reign to drop their problems on her? All she gets from that are headaches to rival any hangover and nightmare fuel.

Theory confirmed: this ghost is fucking utter asshole.

It took another breath for her to settle, taking in the ruined walls and shattered windows and - sharp fingers digging into her arm to the point of burning pain.

Safiya startled despite herself, head snapping to look at her side; Enni was gripping her arm like her life depended on it (which, in her mind, it might), eyes wide and glassy and positively terrified - the expression of a rabbit ready to bolt at the sight of a bloodhound. Safiya tried to shake her hand free, but Enni stared off like she didn't even register Safiya's presence, much less her struggle to get away. Discomfort, familiar and yet deeply unpleasant, curled inside Safiya at the painful contact and yet she thinks there isn't anything she can do to get Enni off her. Not when she looked like she's seconds away from passing out. It was easy to forget that this whole business wasn't something people are used to everyday - that not eveybody has been attacked or bothered or haunted by ghosts from the moment they could walk. That Enni most likely never spend restless nights with voices of people long dead whispering her to sleep, or training to not let the same voices get to her.

At that one small second, Safiya felt some kind of sympathy for the terrified woman next to her. It was probably the only thing keeping her from thrashing out of her grip, standing there awkwardly with an arm half-outstretched and the other hand bloodied from her nose.

The tension around them settled like a heavy blanket, almost enough to be stiffled under it. Safiya could feel it like electricity on her tongue, sizzling and pulsing to make her hairs stand on end. It made Safiya tense, suspecting not everything was done quite yet - the worst was over, she thinks, after the ghost threw his little temper tantrum, but the thunderstorm-like energy coursing around them made her feel like there is still potential for things to go wrong. Safiya observed the ruined hallway sheepishly, noting the ruined walls and window more clearily. She cringed to think how much that's going to cost to repair.

Safiya glanced at Enni to see her reaction, seeing the frozen cold fear of before seeping out of her delicate features - only to be replaced by a fear of an altogether different kind.

"I don’t think he likes your being here." Enni mumbled. Safiya could have laughed hysterically at that - yeah, no shit. She doesn't think he could have made that any clearer short of throwing Safiya across the hallway. The psychic only half-shrugged awkwardly, her arm still being held hostage by Enni - who, by the way, was looking like she wasn't handling this too well. Great. The last thing Safiya needs is her hyperventilating and falling into a panic Safiya can't possibly drag her back from.

The other woman started to ease her steel grip on Safiya, though and wasn't that just a relief. Relief flowed through her as Enni finally let go, letting out a small breath she didn't know she was holding. Her arm was sore and pained, but Safiya resisted the urge to rub it for now. Enni didn't quite step away enough to make Safiya fully comfortable, but she did brush her hand gently across where she was tearing Safiya a brand new wound.

Safiya thinks she should be annoyed - and she kind of is - but Enni's obviously concerned expression stiffled it somewhat. It was obvious she felt bad and Safiya couldn't blame her for something she did in the midst of blinding fear.

It did make Safiya give her an odd look, eyebrows rising as she considered if she should or shouldn't say it. Was it maybe not the best moment to say what she had in mind? Absolutely.

She decided on saying it, anyways.

"You know," she started, giving Enni an almost smug little smile. "You could have just said so if you wanted to get closer."

The smile and the smugness gone as fast as it was there, quickly replaced by bland politeness as she fished out another handkerchief to wipe away the blood dripping from her nose. It ruined her lipstick on the way, because why should Safiya have a decent day ever? She only glanced up when Enni spoke up again, voice still trembling in fear.

"I don’t even know what to say…"

She's not the only one. Safiya has seen many strange things in her life and this was hardly the strangest; but she didn't know what to add to that. She simply didn't care to offer some half-assed comfort to Enni about how this isn't any thing to be afraid of, nor an explanation of something that can't be explained properly in human terms. She supposed she should give Enni something - some kind of logic to reply on to drive away the fear. But talking to people has never been her strong suit and so Safiya stayed silent for a moment, thinking of what to say.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, she didn't have to think on it long.

A pained hiss made Safiya freeze up, shoulders squaring with leftover tension at the sight of glass digging into Enni's foot. It didn't seem too deep, but the sight of a fresh wound still made Safiya tense in sympathy and vague discomfort. "You okay there?" Safiya's lips thinned as she watched Enni dig out the piece of glass, revealing broken skin and a small river of blood dripping on the the floor. The sight of pitch black not-blood clinging next to it made for a stark contract, red against black.

And then something happened that made Safiya's muscles freeze up even further.

The black blood trickled into the open wound, intermixing inside.

Something changed - something so miniscule and yet not that Safiya could hardly figure out what it was. The feeling was so subtle she might not even had noticed were she not as attuned to changes as she is. It was... strange and even that word didn't quite fit. It felt like coming into your home only to find everything shifted slightly to the left from the last time you were there.

Safiya stared at the black and red twisting together, unsure of what made her feel so odd.

Did something change? If it did, it hardly made itself obvious. The woman frowned uncertainly, glancing up at Enni's face - only to see her staring back blanky, like she hasn't quite noticed her before.

The expression was gone the next second, making Safiya wonder if it was even there at all.

"What the hell was that?" Enni asked after shaking her head, apparently throwing off some confusion of her own. Safiya was quiet for a second, two, before forcing herself to relax, desperately trying to wipe the blood of her blouse.

"The ghost is angry, I suppose. I think it's pretty obvious he's not the happiest. Be glad he didn't destroy your house further." Safiya's lips thinned at that, giving a meaningful glance towards the many cracks. "Wanted to threaten us." It won't work. Not on Safiya, anyways. He might have gotten her with that memory, but she won't give up this easily.

"On that note... you didn't finish telling me what you wanted to say before, did you?"

enni's house
y'all.... wtf the fuck
click
ghost & enni
coded by natasha.
 
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trying not to go insane
but i can't do it all my own

Trained as her mind was on the destruction of her home and the panic rippling through her, it’s no surprise Enni didn’t notice Safiya’s episode -- or perhaps more accurately, the end of Safiya's episode -- until long after it had already finished. Her resolve wavered when she heard the psychic utter the curse, carefully shifting her gaze to look over at the other woman. She was surprised to see the front of the woman’s blouse stained with fresh blood, her brow knitting in concern while she looked her over. Following the slow, almost thinning line of blood from her nose to her chin, the smear on her upper lip from where she’d touched it, she wasn't sure what to say, how to react. (Even though her natural instinct was to worry, she kept her comments to herself. Especially being a stranger, that might’ve only made things unbearably uncomfortable in the end, and with the vice grip she’d held on the psychic's arm in the height of fear just moments before... perhaps things were plenty awkward enough without adding more fuel to the fire, too.)

Slowly but surely, Enni felt the anxiety begin to seep out of her skin, quickly being replaced with her usual weariness once again. She felt beyond exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open. Only Safiya’s teasing was strong enough to pull her out of that dead-tired heaviness, the brunette looking up as the woman’s first few words drew her attention. The smug quality of the smile that slowly began to tilt up the corners of her lips drew a curious sort of reaction, hazel eyes flickering over her face as she observed it. However, as soon as she spoke her next words, that curiosity turned to shocked surprise instead, creamy skin flaring red-hot as her gaze quickly flitted away.

She fumbled with her words, mouth snapping shut as she was not quite sure how to react to such an unexpected development. Thankfully, no reaction seemed necessary as the moment was there and gone in an instant, though, of course, it lingered much longer in her mind. She felt confused, rocked all the way to her core by the strangeness of the comment, as well as by how casually Safiya had thrown her words out, and then moved on so easily, like they meant absolutely nothing at all. (But Enni’s feelings are fleeting, too, which was such an odd state of mind for the brunette. It was out-of-place for a woman who so easily got stuck on every little thing and tended to obsess over her worries to the point of overwhelm, often even dissolving into tears and panic. Not at all like her, to say the least.)

Now, though-- when asked if she was okay, Enni simply nodded. Technically, it wasn’t even a lie considering Safiya wasn’t asking about her personal life; she was only asking about her foot. With a sigh, Enni finally lowered her leg back to the floor, no longer noticing the sharp pain in her heel now that the shard of glass had been removed. (Oddly enough, the more time passed, she could hardly remember what had pained her in the first place, let alone the pain itself, really. It was like numbness washing over her entire consciousness, even as the neurons in her brain continued to fire explosively, jumping from one strong emotion to the next as easily as if she were boarding a train only to get off again at the next stop. She'd never been so scatterbrained in her entire life, really.

'On that note... you didn't finish telling me what you wanted to say before, did you?'

The reminder rattled something free. There was a low buzzing that took over the back of Enni’s mind, something like a tingling in her limbs that she just couldn’t seem to shake. For the briefest moment, her entire body felt alien, not at all her own. Her bones were too heavy and her skin felt raw, like it’d been scrubbed away with sandpaper and then dipped in salt. Her usual calm clashed with a new kind of chaos, and fear intermingled with rage. In that single instant, everything changed and suddenly the entire world felt wrong.

Looking over to Safiya, Enni furrowed her brow. She had no idea what she was even talking about anymore.

Then, a voice that was her own but didn't really feel like hers strangled up words from a small corner at the back of her mind.

'There is something I haven't told you yet…'

Scrunching up her face, she opened her mouth to speak but the very moment that she did, pressure wrapped around her throat, a weight so heavy, so oppressive that she had no choice but to respect it. She couldn’t question it even if she’d wanted to, frightened to the point of pure terror, a mere shell of the person she once was -- that person now locked inside her own head. (Was it real? Was it all in her mind? Honestly, she wasn’t too sure herself. She felt like she was going insane, and… yeah, well, maybe she was. Regardless, whatever she’d wanted to say before was gone, gone, gone.)

It took a moment to realize she still hadn’t said anything, lost as she was in the whirlwind of her thoughts, the confusion of her own mind. When she looked back to Safiya, only to find the psychic staring, waiting for her to answer, she blushed, so embarrassed she simply had to look away.

“I’m sorry, I... I honestly don’t remember what I was going to say.” Finally breaking the silence, she gave a small shrug and forced a laugh, trying to play the moment off as more casual than it really was. Like it didn’t matter she couldn’t remember, when really that was... god, it must've seemed damn-near suspicious! Panicking with that vague realization, she rushed to clarify, “I don’t really have the best memory ever since my accident...”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. The sleep deprivation had begun to eat away at her, yes, but there was still the fact she had dozens -- yes, legitimately dozens -- of journals documenting every odd experience she had ever had since the very first moment the visions and hauntings had begun. She might not remember everything herself, but she still had a way to reflect on it, should she choose to share that. Even now, she was looking right at the journals. Piled high atop her bedside table, they were almost impossible to miss, but with everything else going on over the past several minutes… It was easy enough to get distracted.

A hand crept to the back of her neck, rubbing at skin that felt far too hot to not still be red. Maybe she should have mentioned the journals? Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t move any further into the room without first putting on a pair of shoes, and she was almost afraid to leave Safiya's side to do so.

Looking over the destruction of her room, the cracks broken all along her walls, she sighed, dreading the fact that she was going to have to clean this all herself. (Not to mention having to explain the damages to her landlord…) She almost didn’t want to even stay here tonight; hell, she almost wanted to just say fuck it and go rent a hotel, but that felt odd, so far out of her character she could barely even comprehend it. “I have-- I have some stuff I could show you if you wan t to keep going. But maybe we can go someplace else, now that this place is kind of trashed--? Or do you just want to call it a day and reconvene some other time? I mean, if you even still want my case…? I know there’s a lot going on here, I don't-- I still don't really know what to say.”

bedroom ;') . shooketh . click . safiya
coded by natasha.​
 
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safiya de leon
the ghost hunter
The more Enni talked, the more Safiya felt like she was missing something crucial right in front of her.

What exactly it was, she did not know. The odd feeling of before - that something, somewhere has changed - lingered in her mind, and yet brought no answers. It felt wrong, like pulling on a sweater that looks like your own, but does not quite fit you correctly. The details of before must have changed (they had to have, right?) so subtly that not even she could notice what was different; the thought made her brows pull together into a frown, a bit disturbed. She cast her gaze around the ruined room, finding nothing amiss. Save for the destruction and Enni still looking positively terrified, that is. And yet a bell in the back of her mind was going off, screaming at her that she's being left out of something. Was it a leftover from what just happened, perhaps? The human mind is a delicate thing and hers in particular was overrided by an angry ghost.

It might be that, she thought, trying to convince herself despite something telling her otherwise.

(She did not notice the change going on inside Enni's mind, black blood leaking between cells and synapses. She did not notice another intelligence staring back at her from hazel eyes.)

She did, however, notice Enni's hesitance even if she did not understand it's significance (nor did she understand the consequences it would bring). Confusion played clearly across Enni's features, face scrunching up as if her own thoughts evaded her. It looked like she was about to speak up, but whatever she was about to say Safiya didn't find out. No word, no sentence came from Enni and her unfocused gaze, no matter how much Safiya stared expectantly. The dark-haired woman raised a single eyebrow, wondering if the shock of what happened before still held it grasps on Enni's mind. She's heard, and seen, that people react differently to stressful situations; perhaps Enni was simply chasing her scattering thought, unsure of what to say.

And yet the silence stretched only stretched on, like a row of entrails.

It was a heartbeat or so later that Enni startled out of her reverie, flushing the color of a child caught doing something odd. 'I’m sorry, I... I honestly don’t remember what I was going to say.' She offered with no small amount of embarrassment, letting out a chuckle that sounded forced even to Safiya's ears. 'I don’t really have the best memory ever since my accident...' The sentence should have brought on a small wave of sympathy - and it did, somewhat mutedly - considering Enni's state. It was obivous the poor girl was afraid for her life and sanity, and no doubt did the event before serve to solidify that fear. And yet Safiya had the distinct feeling of before still ringing in the back of her head - that she wasn't getting the full story. Her hand still cluthing her bleeding nose, the psychic leveled Enni with a flat look, flickering between the other's face and the room's destruction.

It was then, in that split heartbeat of awkwardness, that Safiya decided Enni is a bit of a weirdo.

An unjust judgment, she knew, yet she casted it anyhow. It was hypocritical of a woman who has spent her entire life surrounded by the strange and cold, until she herself became such. Safiya is aware of it, painfully so - that her expression hardly changed, that her tone never fit the conversation. She didn't care much about being polite, not if there was something to gain out of it and cared even less to laugh at things she didn't find funny if only to make a person feel better. The world of inter-personal relationships was big and scary and unknown and it was always easier to hide from it as a child. Enni was not quite like that, nervous and fluttery as she seemed to be; but something about this whole interaction has felt so weird that Safiya couldn't help but furrow her brows in a vague grimace. Perhaps it was the accident, or maybe simply her nature. Whatever it was, she thought not to ask, silently thinking her own thing.

''Enni,'' She started, thinning her lips in discomfort at calling the woman by her first name. Safiya shook her head slightly, fixing Enni with a vaguely indignant stare. ''You're not hiding anything, are you?''

It sure felt like it. The ghost hunter's hand fell, clutching the bloody napkin by her side. She observed Enni closely, dark eyes narrowed in consideration - she didn't miss the way Enni's stuck on a part of the room, following the other's gaze. A mountain of books, stacked upon a bedside table; Safiya glanced over them, wondering just how she didn't notice them before. Journals, not books, and many of them. She couldn't make out any details, but they looked... important? Maybe diaries, or trackers concerning Enni's recovery? She supposed it was none of her business, but her eyes drew to them anyhow. Could they perhaps be related to what Enni was experiencing?

'I have-- I have some stuff I could show you if you wan t to keep going. But maybe we can go someplace else, now that this place is kind of trashed--? Or do you just want to call it a day and reconvene some other time? I mean, if you even still want my case…? I know there’s a lot going on here, I don't-- I still don't really know what to say.' The voice next to her spoke up, rambling at the edge of Safiya's hearing. Valid concerns, she supposed. It was quite obvious from the start Enni had no idea how this was supposed to go, but Safiya did not quite feel like speaking up just yet to ease them. The woman instead fixed her jacket, glancing heavensward to follow the snake-like cracks tear into the ceiling. She turned the words over in her head, mulling over them like she had all the time in the world. Slowly, languidly, she began -

''How about we -''

Safiya shut up a second later, head swiveling around. The tension crawled under her skin again like ants under her skin, a feeling she's long come to associate with the supernatural. She took in a small gasp, preapring for the worst - when a breeze pushed back the two women from the end of the dark hallway, sending papers flying and ruffling their hair. It was not strong enough to splinter the glass again, thank God, but it bit into her exposed face anyway, cold like death. A few books fell out of place, sending them tumbling across the glass.

A second, two.

Nothing.

The cold air lingered in the room, curling around their feet like a stray cat. Safiya bit the side of her cheek, sceptically that that was all - but the leering hallway didn't do much more than leer, and she relaxed with some left-over suspicion. Perhaps the ghost simply wanted to air the place out; just because you're dead doesn't mean you can't appreciate a nice breeze. The thought made Safiya's red (and a bit bloody) lips pull into a vague smile, laughing at a joke only she undersood. Safiya stumbled back a bit, hoping to turn towards Enni when her high heel stuck on something. She glanced backwards, eyes landing on a few of the journals laying haphazardly across the floor. ''Wait, I'll get those.'' In a small display of goodwill, the woman nodded and bended down to grab one of the books. It was opened on some random page, filled to the brim with words scribbled over the lines. She was about to hand it to Enni, gaze glancing over the words on instinct when what was written caused her to pause.

She didn't meant to snoop. She really did not; even if she hardly felt guilty about putting her nose where it doesn't belong, this was not her intent now. Honest. She glanced at Enni inquisitively, face carefully polite.

''What's this?''

◉ ◉ ◉

Helen was tired.

She knew her name is Helen, even if she did not know much else. No memories were there to guide her, no identity. If there even was one in the first place, she did not know - she could barely think past the fog clouding her mind, stifling any thought she tried toconcentrate on. All of her focus was gliding through her fingers like water, gone before she even knew it was there in the first place.

She was tired. Blood dripped from her stomach and on the woodboards below.

The hallway was so familiar, a place she's surely walked before - but she did not know how she knew it. She simply walked down it again, her feet making no sound.

It hurt. It hurt so much.

Pale hands grasped on an abdomen that was no longer there, no blood sticking to them no matter how much she pushed against the gored hole. That's strange, she thought distractedly, altrough she wasn't sure why it should be odd. She grimaced at how the pain throbbed with each step she took and wished it would stop.

''My...'' She breathed out, voice barely above a whisper. ''My...''

They took something of hers.

It was supposed to here but it wasn't. No matter how much she searched she could not find it.

What was it that they took? She wanted it back so that she may know.

Helen paused then, face scrunching with the effort of remembering. It was so, so hard to think. She tried to remember, but all the got was -

Anger. Burning hot, devouring anger.

Somebody took it. She didn't know who, but she knew where they were. How she knows, she cannot recall, but it was with absolute certainty that she could feel them. They were here, somewhere, and she will find them.

''I...'' She grit out, scratching at the wound gaping through her dress. She wanted to howl and tear and -

''I want to...''

enni's house
y'all.... wtf the fuck
click
ghost & enni
coded by natasha.
 
enni koskinen,

The world feels wrong.

While Enni isn’t sure how exactly she knows that something is wrong, she is more sure about it than she has ever been about anything else before — more sure than she is that her favorite color is yellow; that her favorite food is her father’s homemade Korvapuusti; that her favorite season is autumn. (Because those things could change, see, but this…? This felt solid, concrete, something that would likely stick with her a while. And the more she stood and wondered at it, the more solid it became, that something which had moved into her psyche. It pushed aside the parts of her it felt were insignificant, making room for itself among the innermost parts of her; a traveler — a parasite — settling in for the long, long haul.)

Was it just her imagination that all the colors of the world had dulled? That all the sound had become more garbled, fuzzier, like it was having to pass through some kind of mucked-up filter first-thing's-first on its way to being Received and Understood? Her body felt so alien, even her mind was not her own. She wanted to claw her heart out of her ribcage, pull her brains through her ears and run off, away to wherever next felt safest. …but what would she run away on, considering the legs she’d had to leave behind? (Not that she could have done that anyway, when she was literally locked inside her skeleton. Let alone the claws that held her up against the wall; the fangs bared against her jugular; the hot breath running down her neck. She could scream and thrash and cry all she wanted, and still she might never get herself free again.)

Her chest is tight, her breathing hurts, and her vision stings. Her skin prickles, forcing her to notice how she feels far colder than her usual — she hadn’t known she could get any colder in the first place, but somehow she does.

‘Enni,’ a voice comes from her other side. She looks over, hazel eyes fixing on the other woman’s dark brown. ‘You’re not hiding anything, are you?’

( …are you, are you, are you? )​

She shakes her head, not because she wants to but because she has to. Because something inside of her is forcing her to lie and hold back the truth; that same something inside of her that is telling her Safiya wouldn’t care if she told her that she didn't feel okay, that she’s never felt less ‘okay’ her entire life, actually, or that something was wrong, wrong, wrong.

She sucks in a breath, lets out the words she feels she can release, and waits while Safiya mulls them over. Fidgeting with her hands held in her lap, her nails scratch into her skin, not hard enough to hurt or draw blood but at least hard enough to leave a faint red mark. It’s hidden beneath her sleeves, though, so she doesn’t fret over whether or not anyone will see.

‘How about we —’ ​

The woman cuts herself off, body going stiff as she spins herself around to look expectantly down the hall. What she feels, oddly enough, Enni feels it too — her skin prickles further, hair raising all along her skin. It feels less like goosebumps than it does some kind of strange territorial response, hackles raising like they would on a dog. Her lip twitches with an involuntary sneer, eyes hard. The breeze blows down the hall but all it does is scatter papers, ruffle hair, cloak them in a further cold than the cold that had already lingered there before. The sensation and the danger pass, but the something else that has dug itself into Enni’s subconscious holds its ground, still snarling, still rearing back as if preparing for a fight. To an outsider, she might only look a girl on-edge, frightened out of her wits. On the inside, though, it is one’s innate fight response struggling against the other’s freeze — two complete opposite personalities clashing for dominance, both equally strong as the other.

She hardly notices the journals that had fallen to the floor until Safiya bends down to pick them up. In that moment, the facade drops entirely as pure panic washes over her, and as a whimper claws its way up her throat, she finds herself wanting to disappear entirely. (Five minutes ago, she wouldn't've cared a single bit if the other woman saw her journals — hell, she'd even been about to share them with her herself, hadn’t she? But only when it’d still been her choice, her decision which ones she would’ve let her see.) All at once, Enni feels herself overcome with the desire to kick the journals out of Safiya’s grasp, wanting nothing more than to snatch, run away, and hide them until she could figure out which ones were safe to share and which ones weren’t.

…Wasn’t this why she’d called a psychic in the first place? To get help? (’You don’t need help!’ a voice screamed inside her skull, so loud it felt like it would shatter. She winced with the pain, grabbing her head as she crumpled into a ball inside herself.)

She didn’t do anything about Safiya bending down to pick up the journals. (In the end, freeze won.) She watched her hesitate over the pages, clearly snooping, trying to prepare herself for whatever might come next. She had lied, lied, lied, and any part of the text upon that page would prove it.



16.3.20 --​
today I saw a face in the window staring back at me — it was nothing like mine, but when I turned around to look behind me, there was no one there...​

4.4.20 --​
had a really weird dream tonight??? I was at home, asleep in my bed, when all of a sudden I felt something touch my foot. it startled me awake, so I got up to look around the room, but I couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. when I laid back down, somehow I found myself looking to the ceiling, but then I noticed that it wasn't ceiling anymore... now it was a mirror, and the very next thing I know I'm trapped inside the glass. I'm looking down instead of up, and I can see myself below. I am still asleep inside my bed, but then something touches my foot and startles me awake...​
​
6.4.20 --​
i think i might be going insane?​

13.5.20 --​
things to research:​
- near death experiences on the human psyche​
- what happens to a person when they’re put inside a coma???​
- Can you travel to the spirit world when you die? What happens when/if you do come back?​

​


“I... I—” She didn’t want the other woman to think her as a liar. She hadn’t wanted, hadn’t intended to be dishonest. Hadn’t meant to hide a single thing, actually, least of all the most important thing of all. (A real game-changer, wasn’t it? …death, that is. For someone newly dealing with the paranormal, what else could have better explained their situation? To travel one place, then come back, how could anyone possibly think you’d ever be the same again? What if you brought something else back with you? …more importantly, had she? Had she brought something else back with her?)

“Ah!” a splitting migraine sent Enni's hands flying to her head as she stumbled back a step, her body bumping against the doorframe with a light thud. 'It's nothing, nothing! Please leave!' something in her wanted to yell at the other woman, though the words caught around the hollow of her throat, pushed back by something stronger. (...her own desire not to be branded a freak, perhaps?) She dug her fingers into her hair, pressed her spine back into the wood frame and forced herself to stand upright. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, not looking at Safiya as she finally leaked the hard, hard truth. "Journals... they're journals of the past few months of my experiences. You should take them." Another sharp pang struck her head, punishment for disobeying. She winced, but pushed on anyway. "You should take them home with you to study and, um..." 'you should go,' she wanted to say, because whatever was going on, it was too much. It was starting to break her down and, more than anything else, she didn't want to fall apart in front of someone else. "I'm sorry that I wasn't honest. I've just... got a lot going on right now." (Goddamn right she did.)
 
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the dead sing with dirt in their mouths
code by valen t.
safiya
Ah. So Enni was keeping this from her.

Even somebody like Safiya who has difficulty reading others (what was it that Rose called it again? Social something. A low development. Struggling to put emotion to pictures of eyes and empathy test results that made Rose smile encouragingly. 'Better than last time,' she says, though Safiya never quite believes her.) could tell so. The flustered tone and the way she moved like she wasn't quite sure where to put her limbs spoke louder than any excuse. Enni looked ready to tear the journals out of Safiya's hands if given a chance, all fear and cornered rabbit (and something hungry like a dog lurking beneath). It seemed like this wasn't a part of the other woman's plan, which made Safiya's dawning realisation even more bitter. The journals in her hands burned against the palms of her hands like something best left undisturbed. Like texts of friends talking crap about you, or finding letters revealing events you thought impossible. They burned and yet Safiya tightened her hold on them, lips thinning.

'Near death experiences. What happens when you get put into a comma. Can you come back from the spirit world.'

The words scribbled on those pages ran through Safiya's mind, twisting and turning and racing for answers. She didn't know what to say for a good moment to this relevation, only managing to stare at Enni flatly. She couldn't quite help the hot irritation rising in her chest; clients lying to her was a given at this point, as common as fleas on a dog, and yet it always managed to piss her off everytime it happens. Not many people are quite willing to admit they were wrong even on good days. But when it comes to ghosts? Suddenly, nobody did anything to anybody and everybody is an innocent in the situation. Even when they're being thrown at walls by said ghost. The worst was a case from years ago that made Safiya an alcoholic for a good year and completely ruined her puppy-dog belief in people's honesty.

An old house, a teenage girl who commited suicide and a grieving family. The ghost was, in all regards, determined to terrorize the mother in her every waking moments. Scratches and thrown things quickly turned into terrifying nightmares and bodily harm. Safiya asked her - very politely, mind you - if she had done anything to her daughter while she was still alive that could have angered her. There was hardly any other reason for the ghost having it out for her in that dangerous of a scale, unless they were severely bored and in need of some drama. Oh, but the mother swore up and down that she had done nothing wrong, really, quite the opposite. Safiya, on the other hand, was left wondering like an idiot on just what was going on - until the mother got pushed down the stairs by no other than Casper the friendly ghost.

It was only when she ended up in a hospital that she tearfully admitted her part in her daughter's suicide.

The fact she kept it a secret from Safiya for so long was bad enough, but just how much it changed the whole case was even worse. Nobody wants to be held responsible for the bad things they've done, especially not by a stranger; with every new ghost she takes on, she takes on a load of trauma, betrayal and hurt. Oh, how easier things would be if people were just open about them, for their own sake if not the ghost's. And yet no case can ever just be what it seems on the surface - that's one way to describe her entire life at this point.

Enni's lie might not be as terrible as the mother's, but it was still bad enough to make Safiya shake her head in pure indignation. It only made the fire of her headache burn stronger and no amount of rubbing her temples helped. Now, she is under no illusion that Enni owes her anything, especially not infromation about something so traumatic; but you'd think literally dying and coming back would be a thing you'd mention when you're haunted by what seems to be a very angry ghost. (Even if Safiya had snooped - sue her.) This changes things. A lot. Death tends to do that, doesn't it? Turn things dark and heavy and confusing.

''Jesus. You died? And why didn't you mention it?'' It was a tough battle to not let her annoyance seep through, but Safiya thinks she managed. Somewhat. She couldn't quite beat off the indignant, narrow eyed look. As mean as it is, she thinks Enni deserved to have some irritation going her way, even if Safiya is getting paid to be here. Or maybe exactly because of that; Safiya is here to help because she got called here, not because she suddenly decided to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. The least she could do is give Safiya enough information to properly work with, warts and secrets and all.

Whatever else she might have said died in her throat a moment later, eyebrows raising up.

The shorter woman let out an 'ah!' while she was still stumbling for an excuse, hands clutching her head like it was getting torn apart. She hit the doorframe with a hollow noise, features scrunching up in what could only be pain. The sight made Safiya's stomach flip - she didn't help, didn't move from her place in the room. All she did was watch Enni with a wary sort of concern, all annoyance and bitter words of before vanishing into thin air. It was hard to stay mad when it was so painfully obvious that this woman has been through hell and back. An accident is terrible in itself; dying and bringing something back with you? 'Bad' doesn't begin to cover it. She is terrified, scared of a whole new world she didn't understand or even know of before. The journals spoke of that all too well. A human's mind is a fragile thing, especially when put under so much stress and pain - and Enni even thought she was going insane. It would be enough to make an everyday person forget even the simplest of things when it seems like the whole world is against them. Maybe Safiya was being too mean about this. After all, Enni is still recovering from an accident while trying to make sense of all this. Perhaps she simply lied without realising how important it would be.

'Journals... they're journals of the past few months of my experiences. You should take them.'

She shuffled the tightly packed journals between her arms uncomfortably, still observing Enni with a wary sort of concern. The way Enni squeezed the words out more on a breath than actual words and how her fingers dug into her scalp spoke of clear pain - whether it was related to her injuries or because of the supernatural attack of before, Safiya did not know. But it was enough to make her hesitate, shrugging awkwardly. Enni had a point. It could help to take a sneak peek into Enni's mind and what's been happening, trying to figure out a pattern. And yet, despite her previous snooping, it still felt a bit... Too much like dissecting somebody's thoughts. Like she was reading through something she shouldn't. It would probably be for the best, though - if only to make this easier for all of them. Enni looked like she was in need of a long, hard break and anyways, Safiya thinks there is nothing much more to be done here. Her dark gaze glided over the cracks and ruined windows with no small amount of tiredness, ready to fall asleep for a whole eternity if she was so allowed.

'I'm sorry that I wasn't honest. I've just... got a lot going on right now.'

Yeah, Safiya could see that. Again, a small pang of sympathy. Maybe it's better she leaves now and give the other woman some peace - Safiya shook her head softly, too tired to stay stuck on the lie. ''It's alright. I guess you've been through enough.'' The ghost hunter fixed her bad, hand clutching the bloody handerchief. She still watched Enni blankly, eyes glancing over the other. ''Just... Don't lie again, please. If there's something I should know, I'd prefer if you told me.''

It would probably be better to cut this short now and think over this when her head wasn't pounding in time of her heartbeat. They both needed some rest, that much was obvious. ''Look, if anything happens again, you can call me. I'll look over these journals and then we can talk over how to proceed. Okay?''

 
enni koskinen,


This is not how Enni imagined this day going. (...had she expected something different—a resolution, perhaps? Yes, well, she had certainly hoped for one, at least. Instead, all she'd walked away with were more unanswered questions and enough shame to fill her soul all the way to the brim. (Not that any of that was Safiya’s fault, of course. Clearly, the psychic had done the best she could with what she had to work with, and considering what she had to work with was also a client who had lied and hidden something very, very important about her case? Hell, she was probably lucky the woman was being so lenient in giving her another chance instead of telling her to get lost. Still, that didn’t make it any easier. The lying, really, hadn’t even been her choice. She still hardly understood how it had happened in the first place... How any of this had happened, for that matter.))

Blood dripping down the walls, messy handprints on the doors, all that shattered glass and cracked wall… Ah, how was she going to explain this to her landlord? To her father?

This level of paranoia, deep upset, and suspicion, she simply was not built for. Lying to total strangers? Hell, Enni barely even lied to family. Then again, a lot of things had changed these past six months, hadn’t they? For example, she hadn’t much believed in ghosts before all this, either. ...Aliens? ...Bigfoot? It was all just fiction, right? Now that she had seen it with her own eyes, though, she wasn’t so sure. After all, didn’t proof of the existence of one cast a shadow of doubt on her suspicion towards the existence of all the others? Furthermore, if she could believe in ghosts and the afterlife, now, who was she to say that aliens aren't real too?

What the hell had become of her life? Gone was the boring simplicity of Enni's previous existence: the all-nighters spent pouring over textbooks and assignments; filling out resumes for future jobs and applications for grad school. Now it was those journals she was always pouring over instead. Journals filled to the margins with her thoughts, all the strange and terrifying occurrences she had dealt with in the past few months—things she had, quite frankly, never even imagined possible, let alone dreamt possible for what would become of her own life. She was supposed to be graduating college, finishing up her Bachelor’s so that she could move on to her Master’s next. She was supposed to be spending the summer with family and friends… Enjoying her twenties... getting wild and crazy and having fun (or maybe not. After all, she’d done that once and this is exactly where it’d led her. If only she hadn’t driven home drunk from that stupid party...)

She should have been used to random aches and pains, you know, after the accident. All those days after she could barely walk, barely talk, barely even function because her injuries were too numerous and the pain was still too great. Weeks turning into months when she couldn’t seem to heal quite fast enough. Then, later, back at home when she’d started getting nosebleeds so strong they filled entire tissues or migraines that woke her in the night, so intense she’d become sick. Still, nothing could have prepared her for this. This feeling of deep existential dread... this something clawing at her insides, pulling her apart, ripping her to shreds for every moment that she lingered with the psychic longer.

‘The woman needs to leave,’ she thought, in a voice that (strangely) wasn’t quite her own. ‘Leave, leave, leave. Now!’ Each word stressed the pain that was already coursing through her limbs. She trembled where she leaned against the doorframe trying to hold herself upright. She hardly even noticed the pain in her heel anymore, too great was the migraine in her head. With the psychic having already collected some of the journals, her own gentle suggestion that she should take them home with her seemed enough to do the trick and, fortunately, she didn’t have to push it any further. Still feeling guilty about the lying, she nodded softly, keeping her eyes turned away as she apologized once again.

”I’m sorry, I won’t-- I won’t lie again, I promise.” A laugh echoed in her head. (Unlikely, it thought. In fact, you just did.) She shook her head and forced a smile onto her lips. It barely tilted up the corners of her mouth, but considering the bags underneath her eyes, perhaps that would read as tiredness. ”I’ll call you, yeah. Thank you, again. So much, honestly, I can’t-- I can’t thank you enough.”

With that, she led the psychic from her home and, once she was gone, took some aspirin for her headache and put on shoes to clean the glass from her bedroom floor. She duct-taped a trash bag over her shattered window, then picked up the rest of the scattered journals and set them on her nightstand… Looking over the spiderweb of cracks lining her walls, she shook her head and wandered from the room, closing the door on her way out.

•••​

She was in the shower when it started. Sitting on the floor of the tub, arms wrapped around her shins, head resting on her knees… She could fall asleep like that, the hot water kneading the tension from her limbs, all that steam acting like a blanket, a heavy fog wrapped around an even heavier subconscious. So comforting she could truly almost fall asleep—so comforting she hardly even cared if she might drown.

...if only it weren’t for the buzzing in her ears, that ugly rearing back of her subconscious as the something else that lingered there raised its hackles once again. She shivered as the air—and the water—suddenly turned to cold. Goosebumps already raised along her skin, she sighed as she reached up to shut the faucet off. Gripping the edge of the tub, she lifted herself off the shower floor and stretched a moment before she finally stumbled out to grab a towel.

(It didn’t register, at first, on any non-subconscious level. That animal, the beast, knew that it was there, but Enni herself was still too tired. Still shaken up from the last incident, still too heavy with the guilt from lying to the psychic, and from having to reveal her deepest, darkest secret in lending her the journals. She’d wanted to shower, shower so that she could wash the incident from her mind and body and finally move on—so that she could forget if, perhaps, it’d let her. It wouldn’t, though, she knew—not when it was still so focused on the present, the beast within readying itself for another fight already. She didn’t know quite what it was, and in all truth, she hardly even recognized that it was there. Something was different, but she couldn’t identify what. After all, how could she, when she was still so deeply in denial? ...when not even the psychic had said a single thing? Perhaps it was just exhaustion-- all those instances of anger, regret, and self-righteousness that she had buried the past several months, finally coming to the surface now that she had admitted her own wrongs. Now that she had stopped denying she was seeing ghosts and apparitions, now that she had finally sought help, not from a doctor but from a psychic. Had she gone insane? Christ, it sure felt like it.)

She thought it couldn’t get any worse, but oh, it could, it could.

Enni brushed her hair, dried her body, and pulled on new clothes—all the while, out in the hallway, something lurked and lingered. The static in her mind coupled with the loudness of her thoughts pressed the beast into a far-back corner, somewhere it couldn’t reach her, no matter how it scratched and snarled for dominance. She brushed her teeth for bed, tossed her dirty towel into the hamper, and snatched her phone off the counter. Reading texts from her brother, her father, an old classmate asking how she was. She wasn’t watching where she was going. She didn’t see the shadow down the hall, nor the trail of blood. Not until she stepped in it, and a disgusted noise fell from her lips, lifting her foot, confusedly, as she’d thought she’d cleaned all that mess up—

”My-- my--”

Her spine locked, whole body shutting down, with the sudden fear of an intruder. It was too dark down the hallway this late at night for her to see the shadow, but somehow she knew that it was there. Until it shuffled closer down the hall, she couldn’t see it, but she could hear its raspy breaths echoing in the quiet, and a strange squelching sound, like fingers digging through the mud. Rancid breath wafted through the air, making Enni gag.

”I... I want to…”

Her phone buzzed a new notification, screen lighting up within her hand. It was enough to make her blink, to shake her mind free from her terror. Her limbs unlocked and, without thinking, she picked up her phone, fumbling through her setting a moment before she found the camera’s flashlight—

A regret, surely, as this lit up the hallway the very same moment the new beast decided to rush at her. The camera only shone a second, but it was enough to reveal the woman’s shredded dress, her rotted face, bony fingers scratching over limbs. Enni shrieked as she turned tail and ran back into the bathroom, slamming the door in the woman’s face. She flipped the lock, too, even though she knew it might be of little use. Some of them could walk through walls, she’d seen—cement and all. Nothing could keep them out if they wanted inside badly enough.

She clambered to the far corner of the bathroom, lowered herself onto the floor and curled her legs back to her chest. Her phone sat atop her knees, fingers already flying over the screen before she’d even thought her next move all the way through. Her heart was pounding, fingers grasping the phone as if this was the only thing that tethered her between this world and the next. When she finally lifted it to her ear and listened to the ring… ring… ring…

“Hello?”

”Safiya--” she startled, lowered her voice as fists pounded against the door again, and again. ”Safiya-- I… I need you to come back. Please. Please hurry. Someone—something—is in my hall.”

 
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