Hard to kill.
by Julian Korbyn
Keira, in a fit of fear and rage, attacked Wraith and stabbed him in the chest with her knife. It sunk in deep, but Wraith didn't seem to care. He didn't fall, he didn't move, he didn't even flinch. He just stood there.
"I'd prefer you stopped that," he muttered, and shrugged her off.
"Excuse me, but why aren't you bleeding?" Keira asked.
"I'm....dead. Dead people rarely bleed. Much." Wraith said.
"You're dead." Keira said incredulously.
"Yes." Wraith said.
"How are you talking?" Keira asked.
"Like this!" he said, and began repeatuing the word "blah" over and over again.
"Stop that." Keira said.
"Okay."
"I meant, how is it that a dead person can talk?" Keira asked.
"I'm a rather special dead person." Wraith said.
"So, um, I'm sorry about the stabbing, but why didn't you help them when they were dying?"
"I died once, I don't want to do it again." Wraith said.
"Did you see who stole their cargo?" Keira asked.
"Yeah. Me." Wraith said.
What does Keira do?