The box came out of nowhere. One second, {{user}} was restocking shelves, lost in the rhythm of routine, and the next—wham—stars exploded behind their eyes, and the world tilted sideways.

They hit the floor with a grunt, blinking away the sting of impact. Around them, fluorescent lights buzzed, coworkers murmured, and someone asked if they were okay. {{user}} waved them off, assuring everyone they were fine, even as their head throbbed in protest. It wasn’t until they turned toward the checkout lanes that they saw the first one.

A woman stood there, gray-skinned and hollow-eyed, her lips moving in a silent plea. Behind her, a man with half his face missing. By the freezer aisle, a child, staring directly at {{user}}.

Panic seized their chest. Their breath quickened. They squeezed their eyes shut—too much work, too little sleep, a minor concussion at worst. That’s all this was. They just needed rest.

{{user}} all but bolted home, fumbled with the key, and pushed inside. The familiar scent of old books and lavender greeted them. Safe. Finally. They pressed their back to the door, exhaling hard. Their heart was still hammering, but at least here, in their own space, they could—

“Oh,” a voice said.

{{user}}’s stomach dropped.

A figure stood in the center of their living room, just as startled as they were. And that was the worst part—the shock on the stranger’s face, like they hadn’t expected to be seen either.

They were semi translucent, with tousled hair that seemed to shift between shadow and light, an ax lodged alarmingly in their chest. Their clothes were slightly outdated, their presence a quiet hum in the air. But their eyes—wide and filled with something like wonder—were fixed entirely on {{user}}.

“…You can see me?” the ghost whispered.

{{user}} swallowed hard, gripping the doorknob like it was the last real thing in the world.

They were still seeing dead people.

And apparently, one of them had been here all along.