Still doing her best to avoid any eye-contact with Benny's battered corpse, Arielle glanced up at the balcony. She cringed as the usual pain pumped through her stomach and slithered up to pound in her temples.

Oh, she wanted to go up there, to confront Penelope and demand to know her reasons for such brutality. But would she survive the trip? Would she make it to that bedroom without collapsing in agony or losing consciousness from the nausea? And could she keep her cool when facing such a horrid, hopeless creature?

Maybe Penelope was a demon. Kylie had accused her of it, Benny had mentioned it, and now it made sense to Arielle, too. She had to be, with her tough-to-read expressions and her tendency for anger over problem-solving. With her blown-out-of-proportion temper and her vague explanations that left too much room for questions. And her reaction to those questions, when she'd clearly invited them in with her nonchalance and her obvious knowledge about everything. For a ghost trapped in the Void, she was too aware of her surroundings.

Arielle trudged a few feet forward, focusing on the stairs. Gritting her teeth, she realized she had to concentrate, to push through the pain. She thought hard about succeeding, about no longer suffering. She thought hard about things that made her happy—Jade, Stella, her father, her favorite books, coffee, sweet treats. All these should have infused positivity in her; a strong force to fight the negative sensations swelling in her gut, the hammering in her skull.

But nothing worked. She remained hunched over, grabbing her belly with one hand and massaging her temples with the other.

"Fuck." She growled, though the sound came out as more of a soft whimper buried beneath her pain. "Penelope, dammit, get... out here!"

To Arielle's surprise, a door upstairs opened, banging against the wall. When she looked up, she found Penelope floating behind the balcony railing, arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a sordid smirk.

"Oh, hello there." Her smirk widened. "You called?"

Even from below, Arielle had no trouble noticing a serious change in Penelope's appearance. Her blood-red eyes were still there, still so vivid and violent that they made Arielle shudder. But her clothes had changed—she no longer wore the punk-rock T-shirt or the grungy jeans with the stained sneakers. She looked straight out of another era, another century; with a lengthy white dress that covered her feet and frilly sleeves that dangled over her hands. And those claws from earlier were lengthier, sharper, deadlier. Her hair was the same inky shade, but sleeker, cascading over her shoulders and unevenly cut.

The view was familiar to Arielle, but in her agony she couldn't place it, couldn't figure out who or what it reminded her of. She sucked in a breath of air, but instantly regretted it, as it smelled of dirt, despair, and death.

"Can you..." She gulped once, twice, three times, her fist tightening from the dryness in her throat. "Can you explain this shit? Why are you so... angry? Why are you... killing people? I thought you... I thought we couldn't, as ghosts. That we had no means to murder."

Penelope's gaze narrowed as she leaned over the balustrade. "Ah, well if you come up here I might be able to make things clearer for you." Her voice was different, too; softer, harder to hear, but tinged with so much malevolent intent that it froze Arielle to the core.

"You know I can't, dammit." Arielle's spit turned to acid, and she recoiled, her eyes watering, her nostrils burning with the stench of evil.

"Aw, what a shame." Penelope cackled, and the eeriness of the sound reverberated through Arielle's body, digging into her bones, ripping into her veins. It was as if her skin was tearing and her blood was pouring out, joining Benny's, that already congealed all over the floor-boards.

But she wasn't bleeding. It was all an illusion, a game the Void played to prevent ghosts from going too far. And Arielle wanted out. Despite her disgust at a place that would keep her asleep for who knew how long, despite her hesitance at never remembering her life and starting another one from scratch, she had to leave the Void.

"So... my unfinished business," she said, hissing through her clenched teeth, bearing with her pain. She'd kept her distance from the stairs, yet somehow their power, their ominous appeal, continued to affect her well-being. "I was correct, no? On the right track, at least? It's... all about Jade, and how I love her?"

Penelope picked at a loose thread on the lacy bodice of her gown, that billowed out around her like a blooming white rose. "Yes, congratulations." She rolled her eyes as she clapped once, then resumed picking at her dress. "But as I said, it's not enough to have figured that out. When you died, you already knew this. But someone else doesn't." Her lips quirked into another sinister smile. "Jade. She's unaware of these feelings you have, and so to conclude your business... you would have to confess them to her."

Arielle's jaw dropped as both her arms fell to her sides. "How... how do you know that?"

Her lungs squeezed and her knees buckled, her balance threatening to weaken. And if she couldn't keep herself in the air, levitating, she'd fall through the floor-boards, spiral into a black hole of darkness; or so she imagined. She had no clue what happened to ghosts who fell through the cracks—literally.

"And that's... that's not possible, because Jade is... she's asleep, in the Soul Realm, right? Even if I could go there, she wouldn't be awake to listen."

Rubbing her hands in delight, Penelope giggled. "Oh, sweet thing... I know much more than I let on. Currently, I'm not who you think I am." She motioned at her attire, her face, then waved to show her talons. "And actually... this confession is possible."

Stunned, Arielle momentarily forgot about the torment her body was still experiencing. She forgot about her brittle bones and her churning stomach and her aching head. She forgot about her heart banging inside her chest and her legs and arms numbing, turning limp. "You... aren't Penelope?" She swallowed, blinked, and battled with gravity to keep her chin up. "You didn't just... change into different clothes? I thought this was how you became when you were... pissed."

"Oh, I am pissed," said the potentially not Penelope being, floating a few inches higher. The soles of her feet were almost above the railing now, the top of her head almost through the ceiling. And as she glowered down at Arielle, she revealed a set of pointed teeth that nearly matched her claws. "And technically, I am still Penelope... I'm using her body, you see. She's..." She tapped a finger to her temple. "She's in here. Resting."

"Wait." Arielle held her breath as her eyes widened, taking in this creature's appearance, drinking in her malicious energy. "You're... possessing Penelope? You're inside her?"

Not-Penelope nodded. "There you go, you're getting to the good parts."

"So then..." Arielle cocked her head, trying her best to glare at this being, but well aware she was in too much pain to look menacing.

I'm an underpowered newbie in a realm I don't understand—I don't stand a chance against whatever the hell this is.

"Then who are you? And why are you... in her?"

The woman scoffed. "To be clear, I'm in here with her permission. She welcomed me with open arms." She again gestured at her outfit and frowned. "But come now, you really don't see it? Think hard. Your face lit up in recognition for a few seconds when you first saw me. It's not that difficult. Search through your memories."

Arielle grimaced. Her memories were... blurry. Too cloudy to weed through and take the time to comprehend. And from the way the ambience in the area had shifted—from dreadful to dangerous—she didn't have much time.

"You know she haunts you still." Not-Penelope's tenebrous tone broke through Arielle's thoughts. "You still envision her when you close your eyes. I feel your rage for her, your thirst for understanding why she killed you."

Arielle's neck cracked as she whipped her chin up, gawking at the figure towering above. "Killed me? But you... you said..."

"I lied, sort of." The creature's cheeks flushed as she batted her lashes. "Ghosts can't kill, not really. But stronger beings, evolved beings can. And she... that thing that crawls through your mind and tortures you, that thing that shoved you down the stairs... she's an evolved being. She... is me."

Arielle couldn't feel her extremities. Her heavy jaw dragged her down so much she crouched, straining to keep her gaze on the evolved being. "She... you murdered me?" Tremors trickled along her skin, and though the air charged with heat, she was freezing. "But... why? What... what did I do?"

"That's not the point, not yet." Not-Penelope lowered to her original position behind the railing, and wrapped her fingers around it, her talons scratching at the surface. "I need you to remember. This is essential for your existence in this realm, in any realm. Consider it part of your unfinished business—naming your killer."

No matter how often she'd tried, Arielle couldn't remember the name of that bitchy bully that drew her to the house. The one that messed with Stella's mind and who sent threats through the Ouija board and who was likely the same as the one who'd fucked with Jade when she was younger. And as more recollections flew in—the marble letters on the hotel room floor, the messages on mirrors, the screeching voice in her ears—she still couldn't recall who'd done it.

But as she peeped up at Not-Penelope, she did remember that appearance. The same that flickered on and off, in front of the red door at the Hollywood Cemetery. The same that she'd yelled at in the girl's bathroom at the university. And the same that she'd viewed when unconscious in the stairs at the Lighthouse in St. Augustine.

This creature, this monster that hid inside Penelope's vessel... was the piece of shit that took her life away.

"You... you... were you here this whole time? Inside Penelope?"

Not-Penelope snorted. "Oh, hell no. But I was looming, watching, waiting. And now I need you to say it. My name. Come on, girl, dig deep."

Arielle's upper lip curled as she attempted to stand straight again. Her spine tingled as chills shot up and down and hampered on her progress, but she fought through them. She had to. "I... can't..."

"You need a hint. Some help." The creature sighed, angling over the railing, obvious annoyance in her expression and in her posture. "It's a name associated with Penelope. Similar. If not... identical. A... nickname."

Nickname.

The fog weighing over Arielle's senses lifted. The Ouija board came to life in her mind. Its marble letters—P, E, N, Y—flashed so fast she had to close her eyes and grab her head as they seared into her brain. "P... Pe... Pen... Penny?"

The monster's applause rang through the entryway, accompanied by a chilling round of laughter. "There you go! Goodness, you're slow. We'll have to fix that."

"You." Arielle's pain shifted to fury. Though every inch of her body overheated, fire licking up her flesh and burning through her throat, though her strength seemed to drip out of her with her every breath, she arched her back and gaped up at Penny with a hunger for vengeance. "You killed me, and I'm going to find out why. You're going to tell me."

Penny's gloomy giggles signified she didn't give a crap about Arielle's desires. "Oh, am I now? I'd love to see you try to make me."