"What... what are you?" David whispered, the words barely escaping his bloody lips.

  His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his bruised ribs as he stared at the carnage in the center of the living room. The men were twisted into unnatural shapes. The golden rope constricted them like a python, tightening with terrifying force.

  He could hear the wet, creaking sound of leather stretching to its breaking point as the fibers dug deep into their flesh, disappearing beneath the skin to leave angry, purple welts.

  David’s gaze drifted to the source.

  The girl stood over them, her white nightgown hanging still in the cool air. Her expression was ravenous. She was chewing on the nail of her thumb, her teeth grinding audibly against the keratin, watching the men suffer with a trembling anticipation. She looked like an addict watching a fix.

  The girl froze. The chewing stopped. She straightened her spine with a sharp, unnatural jolt, vibrating in place. Slowly, agonizingly, she turned her head toward him. The movement was stiff, like a rusted machine forcing itself to move, until her eyes met his.

  He could fully see her face now. The rage evaporated, replaced by confusion and surprise. She looked at him as if realizing he was there for the first time.

  David scrambled backward, his bare heels skidding uselessly on the floor. His spine collided hard with the sharp edge of the TV stand.

  "Ah!"

  He winced, his face scrunching up as a fresh shockwave of white-hot agony shot through his back, radiating from the spot where the crowbar had slammed into him earlier. The impact shook the furniture, the TV wobbling dangerously above his head.

  The girl’s confusion melted away. A smile spread across her pale face, wide and unnerving, her eyes dilating until they were almost entirely black.

  "Fear..." she muttered. The word hung in the cold air like mist.

  Her bare feet lifted inches off the floorboards. She drifted toward him, sliding through the air with a predator’s focus, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

  David gasped, jamming the back of his head against the corner of the TV stand, pinning himself there as if he could merge with the wood to escape her. He couldn't handle it. He turned his head sharply to the side, staring at the wall, too terrified to meet the gaze of the thing hovering inches from his nose.

  "Please," he choked out, tears mixing with the blood on his chin. "Please, don't kill me."

  "No."

  The voice was soft. Feminine. It was a gentle whisper, brushing against his ear like a secret, terrifyingly intimate in the silence. She sounded like she was trying to soothe a frightened animal.

  "I would never try to hurt you. N-never."

  Her face twisted into a look of genuine concern. She extended her pale hand, reaching out to cup David's cheek.

  David shut his eyes, bracing for the cold touch. But he felt nothing but a sudden drop in temperature inside his skull. Her hand passed straight through his head, emerging from the other side.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. She snatched her hand back, curling her fingers into her palm.

  Behind her, the thieves let out muffled groans, the sounds struggling against the golden cords gagging their mouths. She ignored them. She didn't even turn her head. Her gaze was locked on David, intense and unblinking.

  "I'll s-show you," she said, her expression hardening into something serious. "I'll show you just how much I care. Just how f-far I can go for you."

  Every sentence she spoke had a small stutter.

  She finally whipped her head around to face the two men.

  Their eyes were wide, fixated on the spectral woman standing over them. The scrawny thief was openly weeping, tears tracking through the blood on his face.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  A grin sliced across her lips.

  "How dare you?" she whispered. The smile didn't reach her eyes. "How dare you hurt him?"

  She stood up abruptly. "You're going to pay for what you've done. I'm going to make you suffer."

  She turned her gaze back to David.

  David stared up at her, his breath catching in his throat. His mind raced, trying to categorize the thing in front of him. What is going on? Is she a ghost? A demon? Just... what is she?

  She smiled again. "You're in pain... but don't worry. I'll fix that for you."

  Immediately, she extended her hand.

  The rope responded instantly. It shot toward him, a blur of gold in the dim light. Before David could scramble away, it whipped around his waist, coiling three times, binding him tight.

  "No!" David grabbed at the fibers, his fingers slipping on the smooth material. "Please, let go of me!"

  He pulled at the rope, desperate to peel it off, but it held firm as iron.

  Then, a sensation started.

  A maddening itch started deep inside his shoulder, vibrating within the marrow of the bone itself. Then it spread to his split lip, his broken nose, and finally washed over his bruised back. It felt like ants crawling under his skin.

  David shut his eyes, his hands flying to his back, trying to scratch at the phantom sensation. He clenched his teeth, his body seizing up.

  Then, just as quickly as it came, the itch vanished.

  The pain was gone.

  Suddenly a sickening, wet snap echoed through the room.

  The muscular man violently jerked forward. His shoulder slumped at an impossible angle, the joint popping audibly. Blood suddenly gushed from his nose, pouring over the gag, while his mouth filled with red. He screamed against the rope, his eyes rolling back.

  Next to him, the scrawny thief gasped, his body arching off the floor as if he had just been kicked to spine by an invisible boot. The air left his lungs in a ragged wheeze.

  David blinked, his hands hovering over his own body. He was surprised. He touched his nose; it was straight. He ran his tongue over his lip; the cut was sealed. He rolled his shoulder; the joint moved perfectly, smooth and painless.

  Even the crushing ache in his back had evaporated. The blood was still dried on his chin and chest, but the wounds underneath were simply... gone

  "The pain... I can't... I can't feel it anymore."

  David stared at his hands, then lift his shoulder that shouldn't have been moving without agony. He looked up at the ghost girl.

  She had a smile on her face, a soft, satisfied expression, pleased with her work. Then, she turned her head toward the thieves. Her face went cold.

  "Die"

  Suddenly, the muscular man's right hand began to tremble. It lifted against his will, the muscles straining as the golden rope piloted his arm. He pointed the black pistol directly at the scrawny thief's head.

  The scrawny thief started jerking wildly, thrashing against his bindings in a desperate attempt to free himself. Muffled, panicked cries pushed past the gag. The muscular man was screaming too, his voice trapped behind the golden cord, his eyes wide with terror as he fought his own finger.

  He pulled the trigger.

  The deafening roar of the gunshot filled the small room. The bullet struck the scrawny thief right in his injured eye, obliterating the socket. The man stopped moving instantly. His head dropped forward, chin resting on his chest, limp.

  David’s body shuddered from the sheer volume of the sound. The smell of burnt gunpowder filled the air, stinging his nose.

  He's... he's dead, David thought, his body frozen against the TV stand.

  The gag suddenly uncoiled from the muscular man's mouth.

  "Please!" the man gasped, spitting out blood. "Stop-"

  The rope twisted around his neck, choking off the plea. The man clenched his teeth, panic flaring in his eyes, but his hand began to move again. The gun rose slowly, inevitably, toward his own face.

  The ghost girl sneered, her lip curling. "You put that filthy thing inside his mouth. You Disgust me."

  The man’s arm seized. His bicep bulged, the veins standing out in stark relief against his skin as he fought with every ounce of strength he had to keep the weapon away.

  His hand trembled violently, shaking in the air, but the golden rope was inexorable. It jerked his arm forward, inch by agonizing inch, overriding his muscle.

  The metal barrel slammed against his clenched teeth.

  It pushed harder. The force of his own hand was so great, the enamel couldn't hold. The gun started to break his teeth inward.

  He tried to open his mouth, to scream and pull his jaw away from the metal, but the rope lashed out. It wound around his jaw and over the top of his head, forcing him to close his mouth back down.

  His hand kept going. It ground forward, shattering the teeth in a spray of white fragments and blood, pushing past the wreckage until the handle met his bloody gums.

  Tears streamed down his face. He trembled violently, his eyes locking onto David’s for a split second.

  Then, his finger squeezed the trigger.

  The gun fired. The bullet pierced through the roof of his mouth, launching into his brain. His body seized once, then went limp, dead weight held up only by the golden rope.

  She turned toward David.

  His chest was rising and falling heavily, his lungs working overtime to process the adrenaline and the shock. He stared at her, wide-eyed.

  Suddenly, a change washed over her features. A faint, impossible color bloomed on her deathly pale skin. Her cheeks reddened slightly, a visible blush that looked stark against the grey undertone of her face.

  "You see?" she said, her voice dropping to a shy whisper. "I told you I'd t-take care of you. Do you b-believe me now? You've seen just how far I can go for you."

  She placed her hand against her own cheek, her pinky finger resting gently on her bottom lip. A small, satisfied grin curled the corners of her mouth.

  "I'm not going to let you go. You have no idea how m-much I... I... I love you."

  David stared at her, his brain stalling.

  *What the fuck is she talking about?*

  He looked at the two corpses cooling on his floor, the blood pooling around the shattered teeth and the ruined eye.* She just murdered two people in front of me. She tortured them. And she says she did this because she loves me?*

  Immediately, another sensation hit him.

  A void. He felt his entire body drain of energy in a single heartbeat, as if someone had pulled the plug on his life force. The cost of the healing slammed into him all at once.

  "What...?" he slurred, his eyelids feeling like they were made of lead. "What's... going on?"

  His head fell limp. His chin met his chest heavily. The edges of his vision rushed inward, turning the world into a narrowing tunnel of black.

  "Oh!"

  The ghost girl floated to him instantly, kneeling infront of him.

  "It must be the side effect," she said, her voice thick with apology. "I'm so sorry. But don't worry, you'll be fine. Just sleep."

  She looked back at the dead muscular man.

  "I'll clean this up."

  The golden rope uncoiled from the corpse's neck, slick and heavy. It whipped through the air, extending its length, and wrapped itself around David’s torso. It was gentle this time, cradling him.

  It lifted him off the floor. The two knotted ends of the rope dragged against the wood behind him, acting as a tail, while David’s limp body formed the head. It moved with a rhythmic, serpentine motion, slithering him out of the living room and carrying him into the safety of his bedroom.

  Left alone in the silence, the girl looked down at the bodies. Her expression shifted from adoration back to cold pragmatism.

  *I'll have to dismember them,* she thought, eyeing the limbs. *I'll use the rope to rip them apart. It will be easier that way.*

  She scanned the room. The blood on the floor, the teeth scattered near the TV stand, the mess.

  Then, *I'll bury them in the yard before he wakes.*

  She sighed, a long, weary sound. "I'll have to clean this house as well."

  A small smile formed on her lips. She clapped her pale hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet room.

  "I have to make sure everything is perfect when he wakes up."