The ghostly call echoed through the tunnels. No matter how quickly Pecha walked, the voice was ever present, never softer, always just on her tail. She glanced around, seeing no one, but the voice called out again.
Excitement dripped from the drawl of her name. Pecha pauses, taking a moment to breathe as she hides in the shadows of a rib, sandwiched by cold brick and metal.
There was silence, save the pounding of her heart in her chest. Not even the voice called out again. Did she lose them? Or was this a trick to make her think she had?
All too late did she recognize the two clawed hands reaching out past her shoulders.
Pecha shrieked at the sudden, frigid embrace. Her captor, however, merely cackled into the darkness, swinging his prey around in his glee.
“Caught you!” He singsonged, nuzzling his nose into Pecha’s cheek. “Told ya! You can’t last five minutes running from me!”
“Alright, alright.” Pecha squirmed around, chuckling at the whine that followed. She faced the ghostly man before her, tracing the edges of his mask with her fingertips. He smiled, proud, red eyes searching her face for something. “Good job, Emmet!”
The man split into a beaming grin of sharp teeth before burying himself back in her embrace. The two began to somewhat, Emmet pulling his legs up to cradle Pecha in his lap. He curled around her, like a snake stealing warmth.
Pecha stroked his hair, wondering to herself about the killer that held her so preciously. She mourned the life he couldn’t live, even though she was grateful to have him now. She wished it didn’t come at the cost of his life.
But there was nothing to do that would fix it. Not at this moment.
So instead, she took Emmet’s face in her hands, and pressed her lips to his cold ones. Emmet hummed, sinking into her further.
If she couldn’t bring him back to life, Pecha could at least make him feel alive in her embrace.
Ha! How bout that? @peachsodama