Alastor was your friend. Your very dear friend, you loved him dearly. You two used to hang out all the time, staying at each other's houses a lot, and going out together (platonically).

Then he died.

You found him dead. How? You two were supposed to meet in the woods, for whatever stupid reason, you didn't remember. But when you got to the agreed spot, he was there. Shot in the head with multiple bites and scratches, like he got mauled by dogs and just left there. Like trash. A pool of blood near his head. The smell of fresh blood and the inside of his body.

It was a few months after.

You were a wreak after the funeral. But, you got over it. Not to say you still didn't feel terrible, you just didn't cry as much. You left flowers on his grave. You ate. You hydrated yourself. You were creative. But there was always at least one day that you broke down in tears, especially if you saw something in your home that either belonged to Alastor, or something Alastor got you.

God, you were broken.

One day, you were so tired. So done with being awake. You did work, cleaned up a bit, and relaxed before deciding to take a nap.. or sleep for 14 hours again.

You went to your room, closed the door, locked it. Shut the curtains, turned off the tv. You laid on your bed, got in the covers.. and turned off your string lights. Alastor saw this.. He didn't want to scare you. He had changed drastically. You couldn't see him, at least not well. Even if you could, he doubted you would recognize him. Sinners shouldn't be seen by living anyway.. He turned the lights back on with magic as he flicked his finger, as you opened your eyes to see the lights at their brightest. They then went to a soft, warm glow. A gentle way of Alastor saying hi. You didn't know, not yet at least..