Tunnel

Moriah followed the boy as he led her to the outskirts of the city, over a fence to a gated area which she knew most people had never entered. The fact that he was taking her there gave her a better idea of what had happened - she was glad that she had a brought a flashlight and some mace with her. Perhaps that wouldn't be enough, but she was still just a teenager, and it was better than nothing. One of these days, if she was going to keep helping out these kinds of people, she was going to have to get something better to defend herself with. A gun, preferably, though even a decent knife would probably go a long way.

It was late at night, but the ephemeral glow surrounding the boy was enough for her to ensure that she wasn't going to trip on anything. For her, at least. If anyone else had been with them they probably wouldn't be able to see a thing, but her eyes were a little bit different than other people's. After all - she was following a dead kid to where his body had been left behind.

He stopped in front of the entrance to an underground tunnel, built by man but clearly abandoned. There was a large amount of graffiti both around and inside the entrance, though it was impossible to see much further. Moriah flicked on her flashlight and waved it down the tunnel, checking to see if there was anyone waiting for her just out of sight. She doubted the kid was trying to deceive her, but she also didn't know how long it had been since he died, and if it had been a person that did it, they could still be waiting nearby. It was better to be safe than sorry.

The kid looked back at her, the mixed look of fear and longing clear in his eyes. It was not the first time she had seen that look, and it was likely not going to be the last. She reached out a hand towards his and wrapped it around where it would have been, coiling into a tight fist as he phased through her. She knew he couldn't feel anything, but she could also see that he appreciated the gesture. He turned back to the tunnel and headed in without a word.

She really wished the dead could speak. To actually explain what had happened, to explain why they were afraid. She always wondered if it was just because they knew they would have to look at their lifeless bodies or if it was because of whatever had killed them. But as it was, there was only one way to find out. So she followed.