Her head jerked in an unusually quick manner as a voice spoke in her ear.  Even in the light, the edges of her vision had yet to clear.  It took a certain amount of focus to settle her eyes on the figure who had spoken to her.  Doleful grey eyes settled on the appearance of man.  She could barely focus on what he was saying, not that it made sense.<br/><br/>There was no way Calista was dead, right?  No she was having a horrific nightmare, one of those crazy insane realistic ones.  Still, the fingers that wrapped around her own felt real.  Dead people couldn't feel, right?  Plus, if she was dead wouldn't she have been in like hell or something? Or she just wouldn't be conscious at all?<br/><br/>"I'm not afraid," she said, voice slightly hoarse.  She swallowed, trying to clear it, but when she spoke again, it was the same soft rasp, as though she'd been screaming for too long or her vocal cords had been crushed and weren't functioning properly.  She didn't want to follow, just wanted to wake up in her bed at home.<br/><br/>Yet, Calista felt like she had to follow, like this dream spectre had all the answers she needed.  So, the dead girl followed him, footsteps barely making any noise.  She skirted around the dancers, taking I'm the various sights about them.  Even the man who'd spoken to her was strange, his face almost like a living skeleton.  His voice was kind and she felt a reassuring rush when she was near him.  In her state, reassuring was everything she needed.<br/><br/>He approached what appeared to be a bad and she followed like a weary lost puppy, not knowing what else to do but follow the dreamscape.  She'd learned that swallowing felt strange, like she was struggling to do so, just like breathing.  Calista wanted it to stop.  As she moved herself into a seat, following what felt right.  The bartender slid her a drink before she could ask.  She reached out to touch, now seeing in the light how pale and blue her fingers looked.<br/><br/>The stranger who approached her was speaking again, a statistic rolling off his tongue as though he knew what had been going on.  A harsh realization flitted through her hazy mind.  The last thing she could remember was being strangled.  A hand raised to touch her throat and she realized that her skin was ice cold.  "You were serious," her hand fell down into her lap and she turned her head to look at him.  "I'm dead and so are these people?"