_{I think I am going to go Ajin AU on this bitch because it’s a new thing I want to do and see how it works out}

        Stuart had known that, after his first attempt to take his own life, there was something different about him.

          Something that very few either knew about or truly cared to know about.  

   After the first attempt, he had started to see a figure just from the corner of his eye.  Something that seemed to appear like a black ghost, drawing his attention to them whenever there was nothing else before disappearing just as he would turn his head to look at it fully.  There was no way that he could have gotten a good look at it unless it was in his dreams.

            Moving back to Beacon Hills, the ghost had begun to make it’s presence known more.  Had begun to place it’s hands–long, sharp claws at the end of each finger–on his or other’s shoulders.  No malicious intent, nothing other than more full on looks.

        The presence made it hard for him to get sleep, knowing that it was looming overhead and wanting to stay awake so it wouldn’t try anything.  If only he had learned it was a part of him until it was too late.

                All it took for the ghost to speak up was one incident in the woods.

    One rifle
                       one hunter
                                              One teen mistaken for a deer
                                                                                                      One shot
                                                                                                                          and two hunters
                                                                DEAD

       When the life had been draining out of him did the ghost make it’s appearance, the aura around it completely changed.  Anger burned for the owners of the guns, seering both into his body and mind.  Before he had known it, screams of pain and terror had echoed through the forest, falling silent only as he lost himself to the darkness that was he supposed was his death.

            The teen had woken up far away from where he had been shot, shirt torn and caked with dried blood from the bullets that had pierced him.  The sun was just rising and the forest was slowly lighting up for him to see.  The entire trek back was spent with the ghost at his side, walking alongside him and whispering nothings that made no sense to him.

          He had no idea what had happened with the hunters–what he was and why he was still alive.  Stuart could only suppose that they had ran off after realizing what they had really shot.  The thought made his blood boil, wishing nothing but death on them just as it had fallen on him.  Beside him, the ghost only bared blackened, razor sharp teeth, snickering to itself before quieting once more.

       When he had gotten home, thankfully with the house to himself, he had tossed his clothes and cleaned himself, going over what had happened so he could do some research and find out what was happening to him.  He had looked up what he could, finding that he was a being called an Ajin–unable to die no matter how he was killed.  There was nothing on the black ghost, however, deciding that it was just a hallucinatory side effect to his whole condition.

                                          That all was around a week ago.
                     All he could do now was try to ignore the ghost’s presence.
                          No matter the thoughts it projected into his mind
                                          or the constant, dark whisperings.