>>1937908
Jerk off

>>1937908
>Clean ourself. We're a spooky girl, not a filthy one.

>>1937908
Clean up, wash our face, and brush our teeth.

>>1937908
Clean up, brush teeth, get dressed in our favorite outfit, grab your umbrella so you won't spontaneously combust upon contact with UV rays, and head off to school.

>>1938043
>>1938056
>>1938103

You manage to lift yourself out of bed and stumble towards the staircase out of the attic, on the way you nearly trip over some bones you bought off the local butcher. You've been working on an arts and crafts project with the intention of 'improving the pig'.

The upper floor of your house is mostly empty and quiet. From this you can discern that your elder sister has already left for work so you're home alone. Getting into the bathroom you take a long shower and take care to properly shampoo and condition your hair. It always seems to look a little oily and you just don't know why, not that it really bothers you all that much.

Finishing your shower you splash some water in your face from the sink. You got maybe an hour's sleep last night so the dark bags under your eyes are as present as always. You quickly brush your teeth and head back to your attic room to get dressed.

You assemble a suitably monochromatic outfit and proceed to the ground floor. Whether you want to or not it's best you leave for school a little earlier than usual. You pack your school books into a black purse and snatch your also black umbrella on the way out the door, you have an awful habit of getting sunburns in nearly any level of daylight.

The weather outside is crisp and leaves are starting to fall from the trees, coating the grass in a carpet of orange and smothering it from the life-giving sun. Everything in nature is dying and you couldn't be more pleased about it.

It's about a ten minute walk to school and about an hour before school starts. You wonder if there's anywhere you want to stop before heading to receive your education.

>>1938138
See if there's anywhere we can eat breakfast.

>>1938138
Go past the house of your crush, a boy by the name of Chadly Bradington Thaddeus the III. Unlike you, he seems more the outdoorsy type, playing on the school's baseball team, but you know what they say, opposites attract.

Or that's what you'd hope would happen, if he actually saw more then glimpses of you as you run away to hide from him...

>>1938199
Second. Ihop . . . waffle house . . . yanno.

>>1938199
Thirding. Let's get some motherfuckin' pancakes.

>>1938199
>>1938212
>>1938252
It occurs to you as you skulk down the street that you didn't get anything to eat before leaving. You've got time to eat out though and your sister makes enough money that you have a decent allowance. The local Denny's is the spot where all the hip and cool kids loiter... You think? You don't know all that much about hip and/or cool people. You enter the Denny's and sit in a corner booth, away from the other early morning patrons. You order yourself some pancakes and chocolate milk.

A short amount of time passes as you wait for your food. You drum your fingers against the table and absentmindedly glance at the door when... He walks in.

>>1938210
Chad Thaddeus, captain of the football team and as cliche demands, dating the head cheerleader. He's built like a brick wall with the mental capabilities of... A second brick wall. Chad is undeniably the most popular kid at school. You and he have a love hate thing... You love him and hate that you're pretty sure he thinks you're a ghost that haunts the school.

You find yourself digging your black nails into the table as you watch from afar as he sits down, flirts with the waitress, and orders a Grand Slam. You consider approaching him but as always that impulse is quashed by the entrance of someone who you'd melodramatically describe as your nemesis.

Chad's girlfriend, Holly Waterson is, like Chad, nearly a foot taller than you and she often uses this imposing figure and her imposing personality to menace you. Her hair is clearly bleached blonde, her outfit is a shade of pink that hurts to look at directly. Unlike Chad she doesn't suffer from a total lack of brainpower, Holly is top of your class.

You like to stay up late sometimes curled in blankets and watch slasher movies. You like to fantasize that you're the killer and Holly is each and every victim.

>>1938352
>Holly Waterson
Ew.

Let's fucking talk to Chad, eh? Show him some of our spook charm.

>>1938352
Going with this, but not before desperately wishing Holly would rot from the inside out into a puddle of meaty sludge and makeup.

And to make it extra wish fulfilling, imagining Chad's beautiful corpse on a morgue locker's sliding table, pale and muscular and perfect, while your own dead body lies next to it on the locker table next to it, holding his hand... (sighs dreamily)

>>1938369
>>1938428
Sorry, borked up what I was going with.

>>1938352
Try not to throw up out of shear awkwardness and fear.

>>1938460
Your blank gaze is trained on him, you're pretty sure neither he nor Holly have noticed you yet and for that you're grateful, it gives you a second to compose yourself and stop yourself from puking over your nice black dress.

>>1938428
>>1938369
Mustering your nerve you stand from the booth and shuffle through the Denny's, taking the longest possible route to arrive at Chad. You meander nervously for a bit but you manage to close the gap between the two of you to a mere five feet or so. You think about what the pair of you would look like lain out on the slab in your sister's morgue, a beautiful murder suicide perhaps? He stole your heart so you stole his? His body cold like stone, his flesh still hard and muscular, his body decaying from within and slowly bloating with gases... Shit Holly spotted you.

"Oh shit! It's Assless Cherna. Piss off will you? We're trying to eat here and you stink of formaldehyde."

You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from viciously hissing at her and instead turn to look at Chad. He's grimacing in your general direction as you start closing the gap that most people would consider a comfortable distance for a conversation.

You rack your brain for things that the female leads in slasher movies do:

Step 1. Your first impulse is to flutter your lashes, but you don't really blink all that often so you instead slowly force yourself to blink while staring him dead in the eyes.

Step 2. Physical contact. You place a clammy hand against his neck, you tremble slightly as you feel the blood rushing through his veins. He very quickly scoots his chair back and pushes your hand from his body.

Step 3. Now is the time to flirt: Although you don't really know how to flirt with any boy, much less such a flawless paragon as Chad Thaddeus. How do you approach this?

>>1938613
Tell him he'd look good layed out on a slab. Also, tell that skank Holly we'd rather smell like formaldehyde than cheap perfume and the entire football team.

>>1938613
>shuffle
Fuck

> Denny's
Fuck

>meander
Fuck

>nervously
Fuck

>Assless Cherna
Fuck What!? Do we not have an ass? Unacceptable.

>slowly force yourself to blink
Fuck

>staring him dead in the eyes.
Fuck

>clammy
Fuck

>tremble
Fuck

I saw this going better in my head.

>>1938613
>How do you approach this?
Look, we need to ramp up that Goth girl charm, right? Let's try looking pouty, lip bite, and then "Hey Chad. What's up?"

What could possibly go wrong?

>>1938613
Berate yourself in your head for not putting on your raven black lipstick or your lucky ankh today.

Followed by >>1938658's slab bit.

>>1938658
>>1938708
Okay... Okay... This situation can still be salvaged. Maybe. It's worth a shot, you're already in it at this point. You glance over at Holly and delivering a crushing blow to her self-esteem.

"I'd rather smell like formaldehyde and the whole football team than cheap perfume." You recognize the verbal slip up seconds too late. It's not untrue but you'd rather not have said it aloud. Holly is almost certainly not going to let you live this down.

You note the corner of her eye twitch. You have only a couple of seconds before she formulates a reply. You'd better make them count. You look back at Chad who looks either like he's about to burst into laughter or back away from disgust. It's about 50/50.

"Ch-Ch-Chad... You'd look good dead on a slab in m-m-m-m-m-my sister's funeral home."

"What the fuck is a slab?" Chad mumbles to himself as he flicks you in your forehead. The skin to skin contact makes you weak in the knees and you grip firmly at the table to keep your balance.

"OMG. Was that your pathetic attempt to flirt with my boyfriend or was it a murder threat? Don't you have a cat to be strangling or something freak? I told you to fuck off!"

Chad laughs boisterously "What? She was trying to get in the Chadster's pants? Wait until I tell the guys about this!"

>>1938659
Worry not! You have the build all shy spooky girls do according to the internet. Plenty of MEAT in front and back

>>1938813
I can't strangle cats, I'm allergic.

>>1938813
Think about the possibility of strangling this bitch, and how great it would be, seeing her eyes bug out of her head, her face turning blue as you squeeze her larynx like a stress ball.

Anyway, should we get back to our pancakes? Have they come up yet?

>>1938813
>Literally everything about this
Fuck

Alright, lets go full spooky.

Give Holly the evil eye and back away muttering something, unbroken eye contact. Chad is a lost cause, he's only good to us as meat now.

>>1938882
>he's only good to us as meat now
Could we still ogle his abs, though? That's still cool, right?

>>1938882
Seconding this.

>>1938909
Abs = meat. Acceptable.

Though perhaps we need to find a more deserving target for our undying affection. Though I think the idea that Chad Chaddington would ever love us is fairly preposterous.

Maybe we should go full Cary. Psychic hellstorm powers when?

>>1939103
Wrong thread, friendo.

>>1939106
No idea who you mean, guy. Certainly wasn't me fucking up real bad. You must have me confused with another dude.

Damn it, OP, hooking me with this and just dropping it like nothing is just cruel.

>>1939242
If OP doesn't come back I might just take this shit over.

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>>1937908
>two Lego games on the board at the same time

>>1938813
*Intensifying awkwardness*

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>>1940226
I really would consider hujacking this one, but I'm not 100% where OP was going with the story, and my idea of spooky girls is more like pictured than described here.

>>1943679
Do it, man. If he's not back at 6 pm, just assume it was one of those threads that people just dump here as a non-starter. Better to hijack an abandoned thread with promise then let that promise just die from neglect.

>>1943875
It's in the works. OP has till 6PM to reclaim his thread. 4 hours. Stay posted. Shit's gonna get SPOOKY.

>>1944276
Looking forward to it, boss.

"I uh, am allergic to cats," you say inanely.

"*What*?" Holly's anger has given way to amusement, "This isn't happen right now, right? *Fuck off*. It's not even Halloween yet."

Your embarrassment fueled your anger but neither emotion helped supply you with the words to get out of this mess. "I . . . Well-"

"Come on, babe," Chad addresses Holly, "We're out of here This is too fucking weird. Catch you later, Monster Mash." His last words are addressed at you.

Nearby tables of other kids from your school snicker at the display as Chad and his girlfriend leave you standing, clutching at your own hands, dumfounded.

What were you *thinking*? See, this was exactly why you had avoided doing this for so long. So much for overcoming adversity through determination. You hang your head and make your way back to your table to think about what you've done, and how badly you've fucked up your already fucked life.

X

School passes as it always does for you. Miserably. You simply endure in silence. No one notices you, well not really. Chad and Holly and their friends have a good laugh at your expense. No friends. No real interest in the subjects being taught, you didn't even get to dissect anything today, really the only time you were happy. But . . . Something was different. That afternoon, when school dismissed, you stepped out of the main doors as you usually did, wth a backpack laden with books, a few little treats for yourself from the school library, most interesting to you was a heavy book on the Manson family murders. Exquisite!

Autumn has already begun to hit Roselake, orange and yellow hue dances across the trees that line its roads, and even the sun seems unable to break through the slight chill in the air. You don't even need to open your black parasol as you walk home to your sister's house. You walk alone, listening to the dry rustling of leaves in the trees around you as you appreciate the early Halloween decorations going up. Your favorite time of year. Still, something feels . . . Off. It's in the air or maybe in your head? It's not unpleasant but it's certainly not normal. Well . . . Normal for you.

Ordinarily you’d be ecstatic, you have an art project to finish, 'Improving the Pig' that is, once you found a way to affix dry bones together. You have a new book to read, and you are alone. Instead, you found your encounter with Chad and Holly eating away at you. Pushing it out of mind, you decided to try not to think about it and instead lose yourself in your own world tonight.

(1/2)

Welp. It's yours now.

At home, after your homework had been finished, you dedicated yourself to your reading, sitting in your bed, surrounded by your stuffed animal collection, each with just a pair of severed, dark strings where buttons had once represented eyes. A storm was brewing outside, wind rattling the circular window beside your bed and thunder rumbling distantly.

You would normally die for weather like this but again, something was different.

A whisper in your mind, {It's time to change your life}.

You laid the book down and stared at the turbulent darkness outside. Something was about to change in your life. Something there was no turning back. It was about to get Spooky.


>Possessed
You feel spirits stirring within and around you. They're speaking to you, giving you strength you didn't know existed. Try to hold onto your mind, cause it's getting crowded in here.
>Witch
A deal with the Devil is a bad thing to most people. To you, it's a akin to marrying your high school sweetheart. Who needs a soul anyway?

>Slasher
You're the kind of girl who likes to take matters into her own, bloody hands. Wouldn't it be nice if you had powers that made this easier? Don't bother to run, you'll just die tired.

>>1945099
>>Possessed

Spooky ghost people!

>>1945103
Standby, can't write at the moment

>>1945287
No problem, might as well see if anyone else comes in and votes.

>>1945099
>>Possessed

Sure, why not.

>Possessed

>Writing

You blink and survey your room again, band posters and anatomical charts look back from your walls. The lights are dimming, flickering, dying, plunging your attic bedroom into darkness.

A breeze with no source rushes through your room, rustling your posters and turning the pages on your open books, blowing your hair back before falling still.

Slowly, the moonlight filtering through your window is replaced by a white ethereal light collecting in the center of your room. It swirls and coalesces into a small, marble sized orb that manages by itself to light your whole room.

{Hello Alice}

You stare back at the orb, wide-eyed. "Wh-what are you?"

{I'm the thing you've longed for. I am completeness. I am power. I am friendship} it speaks in a soft, child-like voice that doesn't seem to make sound. {I am the one who is going to change your life.}

"Wow," you blink again.

{You seem like a sad girl, Alice. Wouldn't you like a friend?}

Ordinarily you made it a rule not to befriend things without corporal form but . . . Well it just sounded so sweet. "Yes. I mean, I think so."

The orb bobs closer, bouncing eagerly as it approaches. {Oh, I think you do. We are going to be such good friends, Alice. Such [Close] friends.}

The orb is barely a foot away from your face now, and very cold.

{I only need you to do one thing.}

"Yes?" You ask, mezmerized by the things monochromatic brightness, like a white diamond of cold light.

{You need to ask me to stay. Ask me to stay with you and be your friend, Alice.}

"Stay with-"

{Say please.}

You pause, taken aback for a moment, "Please. Stay with me and-" you swallow, a bit nervously, "and be my friend."

{Forever?}

"I'm not sure if-"

{Alice.} The voice in your mind is louder, {My time here is short. Please, Alice.}

Well, this was a once in a lifetime chance, and, it DID seem pretty cool. You take a short breath. "Forever."

The orb sniffs out like a candle in a breeze only to be replaced by an intense light all around you. Burning pain racks your body, starting at your finger tips and toes and boring it's way up your limbs to a point above your naval. You double over in pain, sucking in air in a gasp, and then the pain is abruptly gone, the lights in your room return to normal.

You look around the room again, not sure of what just happened.

Then you speak. "We're home."

A grin slowly spreads across your face.

X

Imbued with the supernatural, you feel different somehow.

>Shadow Walk
The ability to move like the dead. Solid matter is no obstacle to you and gravity merely a suggestion. Free as a spirit


>Mortal secrets
The contents of a mortal mind are no longer a mystery to you. You may consciously choose to read a mind like you would read a newspaper headline.

>Ghostly touch
Your hands aren't the only way to interact with objects. Small, minor spirits can be coaxed to manipulate the world around you in simple ways. Levitating a table is no longer just a parlor trick.

>>1945584
So, do we have to choose one of these powers, or do we get all three?

>>1945597
Choose one. My bad. You may ultimately earn more. One for now

>>1945584
Then I'll go for >Shadow Walk.

Flying is fun, regardless of who you are.

Unless you've got acrophobia, of course.

>>1945584
>Shadow Walk

A nice intersection between being able to keep us alive and being fun.

>>1945584
>Shadow Walk

>Shadow Walk

>Writing

Just got home, updates should be higher quality/more frequent.

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You are feeling weightless. Now granted you never really felt *heavy*. You've always been petite . . . For the most part. But this was, as many things were becoming, different.

You turn and hang your legs over your bed, standing up and putting a bit of weight on them. You manage to stand without difficulty, that strange feeling slipping away. No, you were standing just like-

You gasp when you look down, your feet are nearly six inches off the floor, leaving you standing midair. The "Seal" now broken, you shed your weight like you would a dress, lifting up effortlessly, your long dark hair floating as well, like it would if you were underwater, your clothes likewise fluttering slowly.

You laugh as you bob upward like a cork in slow motion, getting nearer to the peaked ceiling of your bedroom and stopping yourself just before you reach the top.

Well, trying to.

You flinch and raise your hands to guard your head as you pass clear through the ceiling and then the roof, suddenly discovering yourself in the open air above your sisters house, the darkened countryside of Roselake spread out around you, a flashing and rumbling thunderstorm on a distant horizon. Period gusts of wind swirl your clothes and make you shiver.

[Beautiful. But it's fun, isn't it, Alice?}

You nod, wide eyed, "What is this?"

{My gift to you for your gift to me. Keep giving me what I want and I'll keep giving you gifts. Remember, we're friends forever.}

You nod again, unable to think of words.

{You wanted to change your life, didn't you, Alice? This is how we can change our life.}

The voice sounded different now coming from inside your own head. It was more mature now, in fact, it sounded a lot like your voice.

{What do you want to do now?}


>I want to go to bed and deal with this tomorrow
>I want to go see what Chad and Holly are up to
>I want to go exploring
>Write in

>>1945768
>>I want to go exploring
Head down to the cemetery and see if we can make some friends from the other side.

>I want to go exploring

>I want to go exploring
>Check out the cemetery

>Writing

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"I want to go exploring!" you blurt.

{Anywhere?}

An idea occurs to you, "The cemetery!"

{I think that's a wonderful idea, Alice. Let's go.}

"Can we meet others? Like you?"

A light sensation flutters through your mind like a moth trapped in a bottle. Laughter.

{Oh no. I don’t think we'll meet any like me. But we can go and talk to the dead if you want}

"Yes! I do!" You're in heaven, or at least very close.

{Then we'll go.}

X

The trip is leisurely, almost dreamlike. You float above the sleeping town below, quickly enough to blow your hair back, but not an alarming speed, probably about as fast as if your sister were to drive you. Before long, you see the neat, geometric lines of Roselake's cemetery below you. A grid of grey dots on a gracefully sloping hill, here and there the neat lines of tombstones were interrupted by a copse of trees or a mausoleum. You sometimes would come here when you were feeling sad, or feeling happy, or artistic, or bored or . . . Well, you come here a lot really. Seeing it from above is a whole new experience though.

Slowly, you lower yourself down, marveling at your control over this newfound power.

{Very good, Alice. You're a natural.}

You smile.

The cemetery is dark, of course, give that it's night, but the distant storm you'd hoped would come this way seems to be dying down, only the occasional petulant rumble of thunder reminds you it's still here. By now, you reach the ground, letting the tips of your shoes brush the finely trimmed grass before dropping yourself back to your feet.

"Wow." You look around. You'd only rarely come this way at night, in fact, you think the last time you were here was in your freshmen year of high school when you'd broken up with your boyfriend at the time, Franz. Bleh. What were you thinking?

You pace to the nearest tombstone.

HAROLD SEYMOUR

1896 - 1932

You read the epitaph with a frown "'Camaraderie at arm's length'. Poor Harold doesn't sound very popular. Can we talk to him?"

{No. Not all the dead are here. Some have moved on. Who would you like to speak to?}

>The recently deceased
>The long deceased
>Write in

>The long deceased

>>1946043
>The recently deceased

Well, recent from the perspective of the living impaired. I'm thinking around the fifties - sixties. That prom queen who died tragically on her prom night might do!

>Write in
(cause I like it)

>Writing

You clasp your hands in front of yourself like you're a kid reporting to a school teacher. "Um," you say, "Well. When I was in middle school, we talked about a legend and-"

{The Prom Queen?} was that a hint of amusement you felt? {She's real, Alice. You want to talk to her?}

A girl your age who died a tragic death on prom night in 1959? "Yes, please."

{This way.} You feel your body pulled almost, minutely influenced to walk forward. You follow the urge, headed deeper into the cemetery and toward a set of aging tombstones. You stop at a stout white stone with a rounded top.

ELLIE MAY FAIRCLOTH
1941-1959

{Here she is. Watch } You lift your arm, palm pointed at the ground just in front of the headstone. A feeling like ice cold water rushes across your body and your vision momentarily darkens. A bright mists coalesces across the ground around the grave, rising up to gather, slowly, into the form of a girl wearing a dress. Her features solidify and darken, building the picture of a beautiful young woman standing in front of her own tombstone, her eyes are sad, almost pleading, and she looks confused, studying you for a moment.

You gape, unable to think of what to say.

"Hello," the girl says, "Um. Who are you?"

"Alice," You blurt. "I wanted to uh. To talk to you."

"To me?" she asks. "About what?"

>Do you know what happened to you?
>What's it like to be dead?
>Tell me about yourself
>Write in

>>1946330
>Tell me about yourself
>Do you know what happened to you?
>What's it like to be dead?
>Is there anything you'd like me to do for you?

>Tell me about yourself
>Do you know what happened to you?
>What's it like to be dead?
>Is there anything you'd like me to do for you?

>Writing

You have *so* many questions for this girl. You continue to be amazed by her appearance, her dress is a shimmering pink, her hair done in coils, just like you'd heard in the legend.

"Do you know," you ask, "What happened to you?"

"Happened?" she repeats.

"Yes, what's it like to be dead?"

"Dead!?" the girl exclaims. As she says it, you see a hairline gash open across her forehead and a bruise develop under her right eye, a constant stream of blood from her head wound pours down her face, dripping from her chin onto her dress. She jumps in alarm and puts a hand to her cheek, fingers coming away bloody. "Oh my god!" The prom queen falls to her knees. "What's happening to me?"

You kneel down beside her, "Ellie, you died."

"How do you know my name?" Ellie asks, sobbing.

Stone-faced, you point behind her, Ellie looks back at the tombstone and gasps. "no!"

"It's true," you say. "You've been dead a long time. Everyone knows about you!" you can't help but gush a little bit.

Ellie sobs again, "What? What do you mean?"

Right, if she doesn't know she's dead, she doesn't know she's a legend either.

"People say that you died on prom night. Waiting for your boyfriend to pick you up-"

"Cliff," Ellie says.

"You died from a cliff?"

"His *name* was Cliff," She corrects indignantly.

"Well they say you wander the road every year on that same night." As you repeat the story, you feel a little silly, this girl certainly doesn't *seem* like a legendary ghost.

{Yes,} the voice says, {she IS the same ghost, Alice. Sadly, she can't remember it.}

"But she's understanding me," you say, "Seems like she's remembering."

"Who are you talking to?" Ellie asks, confusion drawing her out of morning.

{You're different, Alice. We're different. She can talk to you because of me.}

You feel a bit bolder talking to Ellie than you would talking to most living people. You're not sure if that's a change that's come about since your new . . . Visitor? Inhabitant? Or if it's because you're in a position of strength over her. You kneel down beside her and lay a hand on her back, her skin is icy cold under your fingers and she shivers. "I'm sorry, Ellie. I thought you knew."

She shakes her head.

"You've been like this a long time. What has it been like?"

Ellie sniffs. "Cold," she says, memory returning to her, slowly, "Lonely. I just . . . I miss Cliff so much."

You nod. "Is there anything I can do you for, Ellie?"

Ellie thinks on it and nods, "Can you help me find Cliff?"

{Don't do that, Alice.}

"Why not?" you ask.

"You'll do it?" Ellie asks hopefully.

{Alice, I wouldn't get too attached to her. She's not like us. Things like her are . . . Fleeting. Let me take care of her, Alice. I can make this all end for her.}

>Okay, if you say so
>No, I think we should help her find Cliff
>What do you mean?
>Write in

>What do you mean?

I get the feeling this is the "With great power comes great responsibility" moment

>>1946497
>What do you mean?

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You cock your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

Ellie blinks, "I mean are you going to help me?"

{Alice, for someone like us, people like her . . . Well . . . They're not people}

You frown, "I don't understand."

"What?" Ellie asks, "I want you to help me find my boyfriend."

{Alice, dig deep for a moment and feel. Do you feel that?}

You sit in silence a few moments, "No?"

"But . . . You said . . ."

{The emptiness. The hunger. Alice, Ellie isn't a friend to us. She's dead. We're not. In fact, with things like her, we can get *more* power.}

"What?" you feel a chill run down your spine, you weren't sure if power was something you wanted.

Ellie blinks, but this time says nothing, only watching you.

{Don't worry, I won't force anything on you. But flying doesn't come free, Alice. If we consume enough things like her, I can show you more power. We can be stronger, Alice.}

"You mean ghosts?" you ask.

"Are you talking to someone else?" Ellie asks.

{I mean spirits. Souls. That's what makes us special. Living, dead, doesn't matter to me. But someone like her, who's held onto the mortal plain for so long, through sheer determination. Someone like her, Alice makes for a very rewarding meal.}

>Ellie is not food.
>More power you say? (Consume Ellie)
>Write in

>>1946591
>>Ellie is not food.
That's what people like Holly would do if they'd had the chance. I'm spooky, not a jerk.

>>1946607
This, just because we're spooky doesn't mean we're evil.

>Ellie is not food.

>Writing

"That sounds like something Holly would do," you say with a frown.

{The dead are a fickle bunch, Alice. We're friends, so I won't stop you. But this is a mistake.}

"Alice?"

"Yes," you say, coming back to reality, "Sorry."

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Ellie asks, "Why did you find me?"

"Well," you rock your head side to side, a finger to your lip while you think of the answer, "This is sort of the stuff that I'm into."

"Dead things?" Ellie asks, her tone suggesting not only that it was a waste of time, but that she was part of that waste.

"Yeah."

Ellie just shrugs and traces a finger around in the grass beside her, the blood on her face and dress starting to dry.

{Even if you don't want to take her, Alice. You should leave her here. The dead are complicated. They're a curiosity. Let the dead rest. I think your life is full enough with the problems of the living. Problems I can help you solve.}

>Help Ellie
>Leave Ellie
>Write in

>>1946759
>Help Ellie
>"Would it be alright if I came back to visit you sometimes? I might not have any answers to help you immediately, but it might be nice to have someone to talk to, you know? Plus, we might find a way for you to attach yourself to an object for a little while, so you could get outside for a bit..."

>Help Ellie
+
>Write in

>Writing

You turn back to Ellie. "Would it be alright if I came back to visit you sometimes?" you ask.

"Visit me?" Ellie asks, blinking through tear and blood-streaked makeup.

"I might not have any answers to help you immediately, but it might be nice to have someone to talk to, you know? Plus, we might find a way for you to attach yourself to an object for a little while, so you could get outside for a bit . . . "

Ellie sniffs, wipes at her nose and nods. "I'd like that. Now that I've talked to you . . . I remember. I've been here for so long."

"And I will try to help you. Maybe we can even find Cliff."

Ellie smiles, "Thank you, Alice. You're kind."

That's a first.

{We should go, Alice. Your sister might wonder where we are.}

As much as you didn't like it, it was true, even at her busiest she never was out *this* late. "Ellie, I have to go. My sister will worry about me."

Ellie nods again, "Please don't be long. I get lonely out here."

"I'll try my best. Bye, Ellie. Don't be sad, okay?"

Ellie sniffs again, "I'll try."

You don't have to leave right away as Ellie fades away before your eyes, the scene returning to normal, leaving only her headstone behind.

{Are you ready to go home now?}

>Yes
>No, one more thing (Write in)

>>1946900
>>Yes

>>1946924
>Yes

>Writing

You answer by away of action, stepping up off the ground and letting weightlessness take hold of you, drifting up, over, and through the tree canopy over this part of the cemetery, marveling again at how you pass through leaves without even fluttering them.

{If you like this, you should have seen what you could do if we took that girl.}

"I'm not doing that," you say.

{Okay, Alice. I said we're friends and I mean it. I won't pressure you.}

As you drift over Roselake, you reflect on how much your life has changed just in one night, wondering, how things would be different and what was still going to change. "What should I call you anyway?" you ask.

There is a long silence. {I'm your friend, Alice. Call me friend.}

You're not sure if that's charming or unsettling, but you like it. "Okay, at least until I come up with a better name for you."

{You know, Alice, I'm here to help you. I could feel you calling for help. Those people who mocked your feelings and made you look foolish. I think we need to do something about that.}

"Do you want to eat them too?"

Your friend says nothing.

You catch sight of your sisters house, alone at the end of a cul-de-sac, and aim for the rooftop where your attic bedroom is. Slowing your descent you pass through the roof and back into your bedroom soundlessly. Spending an extra moment to enjoy the sensation of floating before lowering back to the floor. A glance at the neat stack of completed homework on your desk snapped you back to reality. It was Wednesday, and a school night. No matter what super natural goings on, you had a life to attend to, you could sort the rest of this out later.

You unbutton your coat and hang it up, following up with your shirt which you toss into your laundry hamper. With the unzipping of a zipper, your skirt goes to the floor and you turn to your dresser to put on your pajamas and stop, catching sight of your half-naked body in the mirror.

"Um." you lay a modest hand over your chest, "Are you still there?"

{I'll always be here, Alice.}

"Yeah, but maybe I could get some privacy while I change?"

{Alice, this is our body now. There's nothing to be ashamed of.}

You chew your lip, "Yeah, but that's not the point. I don't want you watching. I mean, I'm grateful for you coming to me like this, but I don't want you to watch me change. I don't know really who you are."

{Your friend.}

"So are you a girl? Or . . ."

{If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't look.}

You wait a few seconds. "Are you still there?"

Silence greets you though you feel no different.

You lower your hand, wondering if a ghost had any interest looking at a girl in her underwear . . . Or if it even *was* a ghost.

Shaking your head, you pull on an oversize band T-shirt and pajama pants. "I'm done now."

{Good. We have a long day ahead of us, Alice. We should get some sleep.}

"Yeah," you say, pulling back the covers on your bed and climbing in. This was going to take some getting used to.

(1/2)

That's all the time I have. Thanks for playing! I'm sure this is a total 180 of what everyone expected, but it's what I got.

If the original QM comes back. Sorry bro, announce when you leave and come back next time?

Otherwise, this was not at all a game I planned on running obviously, but if people enjoyed it, I'll run it again.

Here's my regular QM Twitter, I'll post there before I run anything.

https://twitter.com/TimeKillerQM

I'm open for any questions or commentary also if there is any.

Thanks!

>>1947135
I had a good time, boss. I'd like to see this run when you can.

Probably should start a new thread next time, though. Might help get more people in to try it out.

G'night, boss.

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>>1947150
>Probably should start a new thread next time, though
That's the plan, my man

I'm gonna try to run it later this week. Keep posted on QTG or twitter and you'll see.

>>1947166
Ayy, I thought this quest was going to die and I got sad. Thanks for picking it up, Necro.

I fucking love creepy girls.

>>1947953
No problem bud!
>Spoiler
That makes two of us

I'm working on "episode 1" this being episode 0. For details and updates, feel free to follow my twitter:

https://twitter.com/TimeKillerQM

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>>1947135
Whoa, I was not expecting to see you here TK.

But this looks like my kind of game too. Please feel free to run this too if you can find the time!

>>1948047
Lol. Yeah, I wasn't expecting to find myself here. This is going to temporarily displace my War of the Roses game. Dark Empire will continue as normal.

If you follow my timekillerqm Twitter I'll put more info down soon.

>>1948083
This has so far made my day, thank you

>>1948135
High praise! Thanks! Glad you enjoyed.

For anyone not following along on Twitter, I'm planning on continuing this on Saturday. Probably at 7 est. 11 utc. Hope to see you all there for the relaunch.

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>>1948253
Oh, that’s when my work shift starts.

>>1949964
Would Thursday 7est 11utc work any better?

I hate to lose a player one a first real session