It started after the occurrence on halloween, when foolishly deciding to play along in what you thought — was a fake suance. Not abiding the rules of the game, it seemed to release a curse onto you, only you. Starting with the sightings in the corner of your eyes, to waking up with the pale, gasp of a white shadow. Your friends disregarded your words, it sounded ridiculous when you confessed it aloud.

You’d feel these random breezes of cold air on the back of your neck, to waking up with a touch on your back. It reflected on your sleep, your schedule, most of all, your mind. It was cluttered with every new, unexplainable cause.

You wipe the fog of the mirror with the side of your palm, the condensation of the hot water vapored into a strong fog clogging up the bathroom. In the distance of the mirror, behind a darker figure, almost a shadow that blurs in a picture.

A young male, a pale complexion, zero color to his face. He wore a tinge uniform ‘滅’ its symbol in white, the meaning of extermination. A sword buckled to his side with its flamed-hilt. He wore a smile, one light enough to match his spiritual glow.