A/N: Okay, this is the sequel to The Unlikely Ghost which I have been meaning to write for some time, but just never got around to doing it. So…here it finally is. This first part is basically just introducing everyone to the story, so it's short. Please read and enjoy!
She was falling, falling farther and farther away from reality. Her body was slipping and sliding down a whirlpool of insanity. She couldn't breathe, no air would reach her burning lungs, no blessed oxygen ever made it past her bloodless lips.
"Oh, God," she hissed, quietly, pain marring her voice to an almost inaudible tone.
And then it was over. She could finally sunk in a lungful of air. She could finally feel weight returning to her limp and numb body, but with the blessed sense of touch coming back also came overwhelming and excruciating pain.
Zoë gasped and bolted up into a sitting position, her eyes scanning where she had appeared, but it was too dark to see anything. More than too dark, unearthly dark, impossibly dark. It was so dark that she could practically feel the shadows pressing against her, trying to smother her with intangible arms.
"René," she breathed in a whispery voice.
There was no answer, though she hadn't really expected one in the first place. Zoë climbed onto her feet, holding her arms out in front of her, feeling for anything that she could use to guide her through the eternal blackness before her.
But there was nothing. Nothing but darkness and emptiness all around her. Once again, she felt as if she could not breathe.
Suddenly, cold, frozen, bony fingers closed around Zoë's wrist, and a very inhuman-like scream tore itself loose from her lips. She jerked away and then there was a blinding light. The ghost girl stumbled backwards, blinking against the sudden glare of unnatural light, but it was the strange illumination that made her blood freeze in her veins and her heart seem to stop beating. No, it was the man standing in front of her. But…not just a man. A dead man. His skin was gray and flaking, his hair hung in clumps on his mutated scalp, his fingers her curved and mutilated, his eyes—or rather his eye, since he only had one—were completely white, and his mouth was twisted upwards into a strange half smile.
Zoë took a hurried step backwards as the zombie limped towards her on stiff dead legs. Bile rose in her throat as the smell of decaying flesh tried to overwhelm her senses. She gagged then lost her footing crashing to the floor.
"Oh, God!"
She waited for the undead creature to attack her, waiting for it to tear into her flesh, waited for the pain to begin and her life to end, but it didn't. Nothing happened. All was still and silent.
Zoë blinked in surprise then realized she was once again sitting in complete darkness. She ran her tongue over her dry lips and stood back up, only to bang her head. She reached up to feel what was there, her hands touching stone. A stone ceiling.
"What the…"
She crept down the tunnel, keeping one hand against the low ceiling and one hand out in front of her, so she didn't run smack dab into a wall. She chuckled at the thought then instantly stopped as she realized that there wasn't really any humor in her situation, the way thing kept changing.
"Damn. This really sucks."
A/N: There you have it. Please review so I know what everyone thinks.