INTUITION, OR THE GIFT, FORMS A PATH ABITHA CAN'T HELP BUT FOLLOW. it often leads her places she doesn't want to be, shouldn't be in. crime scenes, abandoned houses, buildings set to be demolished. here, on this very night, it brought her to a cemetery. she never knows what to expect in these environments. this place is littered with ghosts, with spirits who have some sort of unfinished business abi doesn't have time, nor gets paid enough, to care about. mostly, she follows to tell the spirits to leave her alone. not that they listen.
she jumps when the other crawls out of one of the empty plots, her gasp audible and eyes impossibly wide. it takes a few beats for her to regain her composure and catch her breath, pressing palm against her chest dramatically as if she's trying to force her heart to steady. ❝ holy shit. are you--are you alive? ❞ a normal question, certainly. ❝ i mean, uh, this is kind of a place for ghosts. this time of night, that is. ❞