Author's Note:
This is the first part of a three-part fan-fiction that I'm currently working on. It's based on the film Thir13en Ghosts; which seems like just any other clichéd horror film on the surface, but underneath it had just enough character concepts, background ideas and plot holes that I could exploit to create my own story behind the film. It's been both a challenge (One hell of a challenge! – there's so little background to any of the characters to write them as effectively as possible) and a bit of a fun and mad trip too. I hope you all enjoy this and will give me even a tiny bit of a review (Come on, it's not like there's a shortage of 13G fans out there!) or a rating, maybe ;)
Anywho's, enjoy and remember; I don't own the movie, but I sure as hell wish I did!

Part one - Echoes

Runaway

Emma winced as the irritated cat scratched her again. "Jeez!" she exclaimed, placing the struggling ball of fur back on the ground. "I was only trying to help!" The cat in question sauntered off down the alleyway; seeming none the worse for wear from the collar that had been nearly strangling it only a few minutes ago. Its white tail flicked in a smug kind of way as it rounded a nearby corner. Emma rolled her eyes and sighed, her breath misting in the frosty night air. It was a few degrees below zero, and only now did the teenager shiver as she felt a chilling wind slice through her thin coat. Her fingers felt nearly numb, and as Emma looked at her hands she noticed that her black gloves had been torn to shreds by the cat she'd tried to help a couple of seconds ago. She decided to pull them off; after all, her hands were too cold to have been able to feel anything else anyway.

Emma was bored, pretty much freezing her ass off, and extremely uncomfortable – she'd been sitting in near silence in the alley for at least an hour and a half, wondering what to do next before she'd heard that choking noise and decided to investigate. It had turned out to be somebody's overfed pet cat that had probably run away from home – like me, she thought; and had caught itself by its collar on a broken drainpipe. Emma was more of an animal person than a people person; and no-one with even half an ounce of compassion would have left it in the state it was in anyway. And all I got was my face and hands sliced up as thanks. – Lovely.

Maybe I should be thinking about going back to home, she thought, then decided against it as she stood up and moved around a little to try to get some feeling back into her legs. Aunt Clarisse probably hadn't noticed that she'd gone out a few days ago without returning– and it was even less likely that she gave a damn. The only things that Emma's aunt were interested in were the television shows that she routinely yelled at, and the ever-present bottles of Jack Daniels and beer cans. Emma was only thankful that it was only another two years before she could claim the money left in the trust account by her parents, escape from this dead-end reality; and move somewhere where she could start again properly. Emma knew that it wasn't her aunt's fault for seeking refuge in the bottom of a bottle. Her husband had left her for another woman only a few months ago; and Clarisse had taken it harshly. As much as Emma knew that Clarisse needed help, she knew that her aunt wouldn't accept it or even notice. Emma knew that the only thing that she could actually do was to keep her out of Clarisse's way.
Other runaways she knew could have been on the streets for just a few hours, or, like Emma herself, a few days. Nearly all of them centered in the bad parts of town – the Streets, capital 'S' – and one of the few places she knew that the police wouldn't try to come after her again. She'd been chased at least half a dozen times that day. She wondered who cared enough to call them in the first place. Either way; she had a feeling that it was time to be moving on from where she sat. Emma grabbed her backpack, checking whether she still had enough food to last her the week, and set off to the Streets to find somewhere to camp the night. Maybe she'd get lucky and find someone she knew would share their place for a while.

In the distance, sirens from police cars were blaring out, but Emma decided not to take notice of them. They were too faint to be close enough to be after her, so she kept on towards her unknown destination. She caught the sudden rustling of a garbage bag nearby and hesitated fir a second. It could have been a raccoon, but then she remembered that there were no raccoons in her state, let alone the city.Therefore, it had to be someone tailing her. Damn! Now she could hearthe footsteps more clearly, echoing at the end of her alleyway as the person seemed to make a decision about where they were headed. And that way was straight down the alley she'd been sitting alone in for the past few hours.
"Damn!" Emma breathed out sharply, turning around to run, her boots splashing in the half-melted puddles of snow, causing her feet to feel even colder than they already were as the wetness soaked through – it felt like she was trying to run on blocks of ice. A shout rang out behind her, identifying her pursuers as the local police. Notthem again! Emma thought to herself as she turned a yet another corner onto the main street, her long chestnut hair swishing behind her as she ran.

***

After what felt like hours; Emma came to a stop in the older part of town, the Streets as they were simply called. It was the place where most runaways centered, and only safe to be in if you were with someone else. The sorts of streets you didn't really want to be in alone if you were a sixteen-year old teenage girl. Streetlamps flickered tiredly above her as she walked down the abandoned main street, keeping a cautious eye out all the time. Most of the windows of the houses were either boarded up or had their windows smashed; and Emma could see the flickering of fires in some of them. She glanced behind, and was glad to hear that the sounds of pursuit had now faded. I've lost them…for now. Emma paused for a short while, trying to remember the route to one of the houses that she knew for sure was abandoned; then gave up after a short while. She could barley remember the way she'd just ran, let alone a place she'd last seen a month or more ago. Up ahead she could see the red glow of a fire in a broken window; and strains of laughter could be heard coming from it. Emma figured that anywhere with people she probably knew would be better than being on her own again.

Emma suddenly saw a flit of movement near one of the half-dead lampposts, and she turned to face it. An unwashed, slightly bearded young man's face peered out at her from underneath a scuffed-up New York Yankees baseball cap, and looked in her direction. She gasped, then immediately relaxed as she recognized the laugh that came from the person.
"Gary! You idiot – you made me think you were either a drunk or an undercover cop!"
Gary chuckled as Emma made her way towards him. "I swear, making you jump will never get old. You're just too damn twitchy!"
Emma made a face; then whacked him lightly in the back with her heavy backpack. "Twitchy, am I?"
"If I say no, will you stop hitting me with that bloody bag?" Emma smiled at the way Gary's English accent always came out when he was annoyed, or whining. Most of the time he did a lot of the latter. Gary had emigrated to America a few years back and was one of the more strange students at the local university. He'd spent the last few months on the streets originally as an experiment for his Social Studies class; then taken to the life like he'd been doing it forever. This fact hadn't made his boyfriend exactly happy, but he had just about managed to accept Gary's eccentricities. He was also one of the few people Emma actually felt that she could trust and count as a friend.
Gary looked down at her from his rather annoying height. "Run away again? Is it Clarisse this time?"
Emma snorted. "She probably hasn't even noticed that I'm not even in. I swear, she's only keeping me because she wants to get her dirty hands on my parent's trust fund. Soon as I'm old enough she'll try to claim it and then poof – I'm on my own again!" She thrust her hands in her pockets in an attempt to get some feeling back into them. Gary motioned for her to follow him and replied with a little more than a hint of confusion; "Can't you just go back to your parents?"
As much as Emma was close to the older teenager, she hadn't yet told him that part of her life. She glanced away from him as she said in a hollow voice, "They're dead." She swallowed, and then started again. "I was dumped here with Clarisse as soon as they could find her. I've been here ever since."
"Oh, my God, I'm so-"
"Don't. Don't say it. Let's just get to your place."

***

Gary's current hangout was the entire second floor of a long-abandoned apartment block. It was the only useable floor; the rest had been demolished by the fire that long ago had swept across this part of the city, creating the Streets in the first place. Out of all the places he'd had to sleep, this one was a favorite, and he'd only found it a week back.
Gary pushed open the door of 'his' apartment; the door squealing in his wake. "Home, sweet home," He murmured, his face set in its usual grin. Emma swept a look across the ever-messy rooms and shook her head. "Justin is going to kill you if he finds out what a dump you're living in right now."
Gary just shrugged and made his way around the piles of abandoned coursework, newspapers and general clutter that littered up the once-tidy floor. "He hasn't yet. I swear, that guy's such a clean-freak it would have been better if he was a woman!" Justin was the most camp gay person that Emma had ever known, and she still had no clue how he and Gary had stayed together for so long. She shook her head, then made her own way around the clutter.
"So, I can crash here tonight for sure, right?"
Gary nodded; then made a motion towards on of the doors. "Through there – just pick any room. You look like you'll need the sleep – cops after you?" He didn't even bother to ask much else, and his quietness was what Emma liked about him. She knew that he would never sell her out. Even if it would be in my best interests to go home, she mused.
"Been chasing me all week."
"Girl, this is not going to look good on your permanent record."
Emma made a face. "Do I look like I care right now?" She said, grabbing the door-handle to get into the bedroom. The girl froze like she'd been electrocuted. She could feel the sudden coldness that swept through her body like it had on so many other occasions before. A blade of pain jack-knifed through her head that made her nearly cry out loud. She screwed her eyes shut against the pain as her legs buckled beneath her. She didn't notice Gary turn around in alarm and make his way towards her with concern etched into his face. "Emma, are you okay?"
Emma didn't answer him, just gasped as the pain intensified and her head was assaulted with white flashes – images she couldn't quite grasp or understand; but in a way she could sense what was going on, she could feel so many emotions at the same time, feelings she knew didn't belong to her. She knew what was going to happen next yet her hand seemed glued to the handle; and as the images got faster until they blurred, she caught a final impression of a knife stained in blood – she could literally feel it slice through her own body – then nothing but the sensation of emptiness. Finally the vision stopped, and Emma crashed to the ground, still shaking violently. Through slitted eyes she could see Gary kneeling beside her, indecisive about what to do or how to help, but not wanting to make anything worse.
"Emma – what's going on? Please answer me – don't freak out on me like this!" Suddenly he was shaking her arm, trying to rouse her. Emma noticed she was on the floor and had stopped shaking as badly, but she was still shivering like the temperature had dropped even lower. "Don't touch me." Emma managed to mumble, and as Gary let go she shuddered once more; then let the darkness take her.

Note:
So, yeah, I've re-edited the first chapter because it was really bugging me, and I wanted to create a reason for Clarisse being the way she was because I simply couldn't connect with her, so you guys probably didn't either. Next chapter will probably be edited, and then Chapter Three is still going through about fifty drafts – yayy for being a perfectionist!
And also thanks to the guys who have commented or added it to their favorite stories – It really made my day and got me to carry on with this ^v^