The supernatural does exist. Vampires, werewolves, ghouls, even whisps. Whisps were creatures made of pure shadow, lurking around in the dark parts of the world. They ranged in size. Some were the size of a rat, some were the size of a truck.

Ghost wasn't a believer. He needed to see it to believe it. As far as he cared, they were just stories told to scare children to stay inside at night.

Tonight, Ghost was sitting on his couch, sipping on a cup of tea, a book in his hand. The serene silence was broken when a scratching sound came from down the hall. But, when he checked, nothing was there.

Eventually, Ghost brushed his teeth, undressed, and crawled into bed. Drifting off into a deep sleep.

He didn't know what time it was when he was jolted awake by the sound of the lightbulbs in his room shattering one by one, leading towards his closet. Confusion soon turned into fear as his closet door began slowly creaking open, glowing eyes staring at him from the dark.