Lycans of Lunar Isle
So, I made myself a martini, extra dirty.
I was putting the vodka and vermouth back when the temperature in the room began to rise. Warmth like molten honey began to drip down my spine in a rhythm my body had memorized. Panic seized me and my throat closed, causing me to choke. As I coughed into my fist, my eyes watering, I could feel that warmth grow and spread.
That was how the ghost—or whatever the fuck it was—made itself known. I didn’t know how long it had been here. It only started acting up recently. I immediately went to Sterling since he was practically an expert on the dead, but even he couldn’t help.
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