"Danny..."
He jumped when her chilling, pale hand briefly touched his face. It was as soft and seemingly frail as it was on the day she died.
The larger ghost jolted away from her, his expression twisting from numb shock into something unreadable. He stared at her with wide, familiar eyes. She watched him as he stood silently, lips shut in a grimace, seemingly unsure of what to say. She had frozen at his abrupt response, and her arm remained outstretched as she awaited his next action.
Finally, his eyes shot to the ground, and he shifted his weight on one leg. The muscular frame tilted slightly to the left, the cape briefly fluttering behind it. In a hollow, raw baritone, the ghost at last spoke:
"I never thought I'd see you again."
Sam lowered her hand to her side. Her pupil-less, verdant eyes continued to watch the being before her. They searched him for answers, for closure, for some semblance that yes, this is the boy who was once her best friend; her selfless, clueless goofball of a half-ghost superhero, this is the one who she would gladly have died for, who she would have given anything for-
An unearthly glow of blood red eyes raised to meet her pleading gaze. She shuddered involuntarily at how completely inhuman they seemed. Still, she decided, she needed answers, and... whatever stood in front of her was her best chance for them.
"S-Sorry, I think I mistook you for someone else," she stuttered slightly, her hand finding the back of her tangled hair in an expression of embarrassment. "I don't think I know you after all, and I think I'm new to..." The Ghost Zone. "...wherever this is. Uh, where are we?"
The ghost that had stared at her with such intensity mere seconds before was now sporting a look of pure puzzlement. "You don't recognize anything?" His baritone faltered a bit.
Yes. She shook her head. "Nothing." She narrowed her eyes. "Why? Should I?"
He turned away. "...No. You shouldn't. In fact, you shouldn't even be here."
Sam glared at him suspiciously. There was something in his tone of voice, something that seemed... off. The ghost before her seemed to be straining when he spoke, as if holding himself back. He seemed to be forcing himself to put on an intimidating face, when his voice sounded as if it was about to break off into agonized silence.
"Hey, you think you can follow that up with something?" Sam responded after a few moments, mildly annoyed. "You sound like you want to."
"You don't even know who you're talking to, do you?" The gravelly voice rumbled on, sounding wearier as the conversation progressed.
"What, the Sphinx? Shakespeare? Can your answers get any more cryptic?" Sam rolled her eyes. "I suggest you start talking, candlehead."
Then the ghost did something unthinkable. He laughed. His silhouette shook with every wave of laughter - and, though Sam loathed to admit it, the sound was the most haunting, bitter, and terrifying thing she had ever heard.
He turned and, upon seeing the petite ghost before him visibly shaken, smirked confidently. "You obviously have no clue who I am, if you think you can give me orders like that."
Again, there's something wrong, Sam again thought, but pushed the notion out of mind when her survival instincts kicked in. He was threatening her, and she knew then and there that this was a fight she would not win. The girl forced herself to remain silent.