A. It’s midnight, the sun is gone, and there is a little girl walking the halls. The lei is in her hands, and she’s gently dismembering it as she goes, trailing rooster feathers. She’s wearing an old-fashioned dress, silk and lace and ruffles, with small leather shoes and silken stockings. Her hair cascades down her back, golden curls, and her dark blue eyes are bright in her pale little kewpie doll face.

All of five years old, maybe, soft little face and Cupid-bow lips, pale and silent, turning to you with a soft kind of surprise in her face, her blue eyes fever-bright under the lights.

“I’m lost,” she says softly, her voice accented with a New Orleans drawl, heavy on the French influence, her tiny voice clear like little silver bells.

B. Claudia watches with delighted fascination as something unseen flings a pool chair past her and right into the pool. It ruffles her skirts but she doesn’t flinch, entirely unchildlike.

“And what is this?” she muses, tilting her head to take in the flicker of…something. Like light glancing off silk in the dark. She has heard of hauntings - she lived in New Orleans! - but she has never witnessed anything like this!

GET OUT!, and the next pool chair is aimed right for her.

A careless swipe of her hand, too fast for mortals to follow: she catches the chair by a leg and flicks it into the pool herself, effortlessly.