"I want you to stop, River. I mean it. This is scary, and it really can't be happening," Evelyn said for what seemed like the hundredth time, but before she could even think, her fingers began to move again.
The black haired man sighed once more, now completely ignoring the two other figures in the room, "Eve, this is happening, can't you be grateful? I mean, I am."
"How can I be grateful, you utter moron! I'm obviously possessed!" and even though she locked her fingers to the edge of the desk, and fought till her eyes watered, Eve's fingers still scored their way back to the key board. This was hurting so much.
"Please, Evelyn. Please. Don't panic, not for my sakes."
"What the hell do you mean? Of course I'm going to bloody panic! My dead best friend is talking to me through my computer! 'Hello, PC world? No, I don't think I asked for my desktop to be Ouija enabled.' Stop this right now, River!"
Her fingers didn't move.
Eve leant backwards in her chair, and suddenly the tears started again.
"River..." she sobbed.
.
It was a few days later, and Evelyn was still twitching every time she looked back at the infernal machine.
"I can't take this anymore," she said out loud as the flicked the main switch, and watched the screen flicker into existence.
Should I try a different story, or what? Let's go from scratch, she decided.
Once upon a time there was a man and a woman, and they were good friends.
Nothing. No urge, no pull. Eve gritted her teeth.
They lived a happy life, a full life. But one day the man was killed, and the woman was left all alone-
A tear formed in Evelyn's eye as she continued the strangely simple story.
It hurt, to have him missing. It hurt a lot. So the woman spent most of her time remembering all the wonderful and beautiful things she had done with this friend of friends:
She was sitting in her room, just waiting. River had said he would be around. He had said he would come. Eve believed him, because she trusted him implicitly.
She let her fingers drop. "This is useless, I had to have imagined the whole thing. I had to have."
And then it happened. The uncomfortable and inexorable pull leaking out from the keys: this time Evelyn went willingly.
The door swung open, and a tall man was silhouetted against the bright morning sun that streamed through the outermost windows.
In a quiet voice, he said, "I thought you wanted me to stop."
Eve began to type her reply:
"I thought I did want you to-
But her fingers got pulled to different keys as she tried in vain to type the words she wanted.
"I can hear you just fine, honey. Go ahead and talk."
Feeling a little foolish, Evelyn cleared her throat. "River," she quavered. "I want to know what is happening."
The man, her dear friend, snorted softly, "I can't tell you that. Though I will say one thing... 'dear friend'? Come on Eve! I was more than a friend, surely."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied stiffly.
He chuckled, and sat down on the sofa, stuffing and plumping the cushions till he was settled.
"Do you have to have that in there? Really?"
A devilish smile, "You going to make me stand for all of this, then?" and River kicked his feet up onto the table.
"But," Eve said as she typed, "the woman didn't appreciate her 'dear friend' treating the furniture like that, so she scolded him thoroughly till he-"
Till he had had enough of her complaining, and swooped in to silence her lips with a kiss.
"No! River, stop it!"
Obviously, she had been waiting for this moment a long time, just like he had.
"Aw, River..."
And even more obviously, she wanted him quite thoroughly now.
"Wanted? Ugh, such a vulgar phrase," Eve commented in mild disgust as she watched her fingers fly.
"Sorry, sweeting. I just couldn't resist."
There was a sweet respite, before she slowly typed, of her own will;
The woman, who had been waiting for him so long, reached out her hand and stroked along his chin, memorising the lines and textures.
In broken, and now stuttering tones, Eve said, "Because I wish I had done that before you died. I really do."
She descended into rough sobs once more, tears blurring the screen.