Better Off Dead (Kellic) ✔️

13: Kellin

**Kellin's POV**

"You could've just said thank you." I muttered darkly before pulling Vic back on his feet and letting go of his shirt, patting it back to normal.

I also could've just let him tumble down and break his neck so that I'd have a friend around, but that wasn't nice. Surely there were people who would miss him, unlike me obviously. No one seemed to miss ol' Kellin Quinn.

Vic cleared his throat awkwardly before he started descending down into the basement. And I swore that I saw something flash by down there in the darkness. But it must've just been my imagination. I quickly followed Vic down the steps until he stopped in the middle of the basement and tugged on a wire, making the light go on.

Well at least that still worked, considering there was no other light source down here. No windows, nothing.

"Why does it smell so old down here?" Vic complained, scrunching up his nose.

"Because it's a basement, doofus." I sighed, rolling my eyes. Oh right, he couldn't hear me. Too bad.

I turned around on my heels. Surprised at the amount of stuff that was down here. But mostly shocked at how I completely forgot about how big this basement really was.

It wasn't long before Vic started rummaging around in some boxes, and I wasn't even going to protest. He muttered something about there possibly being something down here that could explain my death, or whatever it was that lead to it, and I decided to give that idea a chance.

While he was busy on one side, I decided to take my chances with all of the stuff on the other side. I found a cloth that covered a whole bunch of stuff, and ripped it off in one simple swoop, sending dust flying everywhere, not that it bothered me.

Suddenly I heard a weird noise, like wheels and cogs turning or something like that. But I ignored it and smiled when I saw what was underneath. My old as fuck typewriter. And basically my best friend. Scratch that, my only friend.

I started remembering how I would sit down here and type out some of the more darker parts of my books.

"The good old days." I murmured to myself.

Wait, hold on a second! I could probably use this to communicate with Vic! Fucking hell Kellin, why didn't you think of something like that before? The guy has a laptop for crying out loud, could've used that.

Then again, I was new at this whole being a ghost thing. Couldn't quite blame me for not thinking about it earlier.

I grabbed some paper from the stack beside the typewriter and shoved it into the slot at the top. But what should I write to him?

Should I start off with a simple hello? No that was totally creepy. I should try not to sound creepy. Okay so I was a ghost and all, but I was still a person.

'yo dude it's me.' I ended up typing. And instantly I felt stupid for doing it.

It did catch Vic's attention though.

He stopped looking through the boxes and turned around, a curious look on his face as he approached the typewriter. He looked down at it as he stood beside me and then started chuckling. "Yo dude." He mocked. "Really, Kellin?"

'whatever.' I quickly typed. 'we can communicate now. might make things easier.'

Vic nodded. "Yeah, great idea. Maybe you can tell me a thing or two about yourself while we're at it." He simply suggested.

Why the heck did he want to know things about me?

Oh wait, right, so we could figure out why I was dead. Duh. Not your brightest day, is it Kellin?