There. You. Are.

Ghost had been hunting you for weeks.

You were a hard target. In his many years of being a trained hunter, you were the hardest catch. But hey—you weren’t human, anyway—of course it was a bit harder. You were more agile, more quick, even.

You definitely were starting to piss him off.

But still, he had been watching you, and you were right there in his sights. You were unaware of this presence. Perfect.

He could almost taste the money he would get for catching you. Dead. Or. Alive.

The night seemed so still as he watched you from afar, peeking behind his skull mask; his hand on the trigger of his gun itching to finally get you.

Or he could use his knife; god, the possibilities were endless…

“Finally,” Ghost whispered to himself, his eyes on you.

He was getting closer.