Brad and Melissa had long left the room, taking the blood soaked shirt with them. Harper had tried feebly to block the entrance, but the partners in crime had passed through her.

It had felt very strange to go through someone else.

She had almost given up all hope when the room was reentered, but by someone she hadn’t expected.

“Creepy green eyes!” Harper gasped, backing away into the wall.

“What the – ? I have a name, you know.”

“You do? Oh, my gosh! He has a name!“

“A satirical ghost. I thought I really had seen it all,” he sighed. “And since this is the last time you ever see the outer world, I’ll have you know my name is Dorian.”

“As in – Dorian Grey? The author created that name, you know.”

“I’m not going to get into an argument with a dead person,” Dorian growled, swinging the nylon bag high above him. “Say your prayers.”

“Wait!” she cried, stretching out her hands. “There are two reasons you can’t catch me! One, I was murdered. Two, I’m not going down from such a cliche line.”