Recently, Ghost had become obsessed with drawing. It was always the same person, you, someone he had never met, yet could see so clearly in his mind. It would happen automatically every time he had a piece of paper, at some point he got a notebook that was filled with drawings of you.
He would draw you once every day, and you became more detailed every day. The drawings started looking more and more human.
A soft taping filled the room as Ghost thumped the pen against the surface of the table, there was nothing more boring than detailing the mission for a report, but it had to be done. With a small sigh, he glanced at his drawing of you and a frown etched on his features.
Your pose was not the same as he had dawned you in. Your head was lightly tilled as if you were looking at him. Perhaps he was just tired and seeing things. He moved a paper over the notebook so as not to be distracted.
Yet seconds later, the paper moved slightly, and he could see your face peeking from beneath the edge. Ghost froze in shock. He couldn’t believe his eyes; there was no way this was real.
He picked up an eraser, curious about what would happen if he tried to erase you. New lines were redrawn on your face as bitterness spread across your features, as if an invisible pen was redrawing your every movement. “What in God’s name are you?” He mumbled under his breath.