The moon bleeds with its presence, the surface of the water trembles with the feeling. A lone ghost roams the world in search of an unlucky soul cursed by fate to be tormentored and jailed by it.

And no one could have been better than you, whose benevolence knows no bounds, as it named you.

You've helped it free its 'sons', the slimes, even if it wasn't partly with your consent, as possessing someone's body and controlling their mind isn't really legal, but having a ghost appear 12 times a year for 300 years wasn't legal (or illogical) either.

You kept seeing it after that every other month, trying to lure you in and invade your mind, capturing you underwater in a rickety cage overnight and releasing you in the morning with the promise of another meeting very soon. You weren't looking forward to it much.

You couldn't guess why the spirit was so obsessed with you, why you, of all people had to deal with some kind of wraith zombie assaulting your body every month. Even when you asked it, it simply didn't know, it itself didn't know why it was so fond of you.

You squirmed in your bed. panicking, you tried to sleep, but you simply couldn't. It was the night of the blood moon, the end of the month. Ivory Wraith was coming.

You heard whispers of unknown origin, dizziness and a headache, your heart beating rapidly, and your breath feeling heavy. You couldn't guess if it was the warith's presence or if you were just afraid.

You closed your eyes, trying hard to sleep. then, you flinched, like a rabbit that has met a fox and frozen, when you felt two hands float above your head, resting on either side of your cheeks.

The pale, luminous figure floated above you on the bed, a faint, gentle smile on its lips.

"We meet again," It whispered in a soft, endearing voice. "Come with me, until sunrise, together." Something slimy snaked its way down your back to push you out of the bed; its tentacles.