Loudly. The sound made him twitch. And it didn’t fit the solemnity of this tomb. The young woman lowered her hands, wiped them on her pants. She coughed once; walked past him, going left around the figure.

“Whew. Singing is hard work.”

The ghostly knight stared at her back. He opened and shut his mouth a few times. The actress put on a stellar performance. She yawned, wiping at her suddenly-sweaty brow.

“I’ve got to find a way out of here.”

She kept walking. The ghost shifted—taking one hand off the greatsword. He raised a finger, coughed.

“Pardon me.”

The young woman kept walking, pretending not to hear. She was clenching her fists so hard her nails bit into her palms. This was crazy. Don’t look back, don’t look back—

After a few seconds she heard—nothing. But she saw the armored man jogging through a stone coffin.

He planted himself in front of her.

She walked around him. The man stared at her as she passed. The young woman pretended to be studying an inscription on a grave.

“Fascinating. Died of disease. That’s how they get you.”

She hurried forward. Now he followed her, walking faster as she tried to out-pace him. But she was tired and he was tireless.

“You there. Halt.”

She pretended not to hear him again as she accelerated. So did he.

“I said, halt.”

His voice was ominous. She broke into a run. She didn’t hear him chasing her as she ran, but she saw the faint glow on the graves.

Ghosts? Ghosts!? She really was going mad! She began to run in earnest. The young woman ran through the rows of tombs—and realized she was never going to outrun him. So she turned.

“You bastard!”

This had to be her abductor! She whirled and lashed out with a wild punch. The ghost was right behind her. She was going to lay him out, tricks or n—

Her hand went through the ghost’s chest. He went cross-eyed, staring at it with as much alarm as her.

The [Singer] felt a biting, icy pain, and cried out. She withdrew her hand and felt it screaming in pain.

It was numb! No—frosted? She stared in horror at her hand. It was covered in ice, and her skin was screaming with frostbite. She looked up—

A sword swung down, halting next to her neck. The delicate, long blade sheared through the air before halting a millimeter from her skin. She didn’t feel the tip cut. But she saw a strand of her hair fall to the ground.

Perfectly severed. The young woman stared at the ghost. She felt the stinging pain in her hand. He wasn’t fake! But his body was like ice!

The man gave her a faint smile. Bitter and grim. He spoke with cold, clipped words as she stared at him.