The Haunting of Aerith 2

The stone platform was cold under Aerith's feet. She kept moving quickly to avoid standing in one place for too long, finding her way through abandoned trains and up the occasional stairway. She shivered, the chill of the train graveyard only reminding her of how naked she was.

She rubbed her arms, and bit her lip. She turned her head regularly, eager for some sign of whatever spirits were haunting her.

She was sure they were real. The constant quick, icy touches hadn't stopped, but she hadn't seen anything more than that. It was maddening.

A cool wind hit her again, this one coming from above. Her nipples hardened against the back of her arm from the chill.

Something clattered to the floor. It was the first sound Aerith had heard since that mystery rattling earlier. Quickly, she turned around.

Something had been drawn on the wall in eerie, glowing ectoplasm. A crudely drawn pair of tits, each larger that Aerith, filled the surface, with a cartoon ghost floating in the middle of each. Scratchy letters were drawn to the side in the same luminescent ink: stay with us.

"This isn't funny!" Aerith shouted.

Her voice echoes back to her, only somehow incomplete, hollow in the void of the graveyard.

This is funny...

A cold, spectral hand squeezed her breast despite the fact she had her arms crossed over it. Aerith squealed and hurried on.

There was a huge, empty warehouse-like area she made her way through. She was barely in it for more than a minute before she saw another ghostly piece of art-work, this one unmistakeable her, her hair and face displayed atop a rather lewd pose. Aerith reddened. She kept moving.

Each door she made it too, more was written there. Sometimes it was body parts, sometimes it was her, or sometimes it was just words.

Be our friend.

Be our toy.

Stay here.

Each one she hurried past was accompanied by a cold, ghostly pinch. Aerith squealed, and hurried on to the sound of innocent ghostly laughter.