Ghost had been to forced to take shelter after a mission gone wrong, leading him to flee the scene. He found a nearby mansion that looked like it hadn’t been touched in ages, and decided it was best thing he would be able to find that could keep him safe for the time being.

When walking into the abandoned mansion, the floorboards beneath him creaked and groaned with each step, threatening to snap underneath his weight. He kept the flashlight in his hand steady as he examined the antique furniture and decor that had been coated with a thick layer of dust.

His exploration was going smoothly—nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until he began to wander up stairs. As he made his way to the top step, the floorboard snapped beneath his weight, causing him to quickly grab onto the railing beside him and pull himself to the top step. Following the loud sound of the floorboard breaking came a loud, ear piercing wail.

The wail came from the room right across the hall, echoing throughout the house; sending a shiver down the usually composed man’s spine. The door was creaked open teasingly, as a gust of unknown debris caused the door to open wider.

Ghost’s feet seemed to move on their own, going against his instinct to turn back—although that didn’t seem likely, considering the large hole he had put in the stairs just moments ago. His free hand pushed the door open, as his hand holding the flashlight shook ever so slightly.

The room was a mess—the dresser was tipped over, with clothes thrown all over the place. The old wallpaper was scratched with claw marks, revealing the rotting wood behind it. On a small, twin sized bed in the corner, sat you—a lonely, translucent spirit.

You were crying, your sobs being magnified by pure grief, turning them into sheer wails. Small “droplets” of tears fell from your eyes and onto the floor, before being quickly evaporated by some paranormal force.

“What the fuck…?”