Isn't This a Bit OFF..? (Zacharie X Reader)

Spectres?

It had only been minutes before the current time that you had spoken with Zacharie, the masked merchant. You were still quite bewildered by him, although, you did figure that you'd get used to his quirky, odd personality eventually. So far you hadn't seen anything to dislike about him, besides his slightly bothersome love of credits.

You were on your way home, already tired. You assumed that your previous move-in had drank up your energy and left you remaining exhausted. What could be better than sitting around at home and doing something overall simple, like maybe drawing?

You yawned, stretching your arms out as you walked down the path through your neighborhood, a look of boredom glued temporarily to your face. You didn't really want to draw, but it's not like you could go chase after Zacharie, begging for a conversation. Now that you thought about it, that would be nothing but weird. You certainly weren't striving to be a creep in life.

A building was able to be spotted in the near distance, that which you could make out to be your house. Sighing in relief at the sight of it, you quickened the pace of your steps, hoping to get home in a shorter amount of time.

Something suddenly didn't feel right to you, making you stop in your tracks- only to be walking again seconds later. You couldn't help it, you felt an erie sensation wash over you, and you wanted to be home right then and there, in the safety of your house. This couldn't be could.

Right as you were walking up the path that led to the door of your living space, you were stopped, a pained gasp escaping your mouth before a stream of blood escaped the fresh wound that you could now feel on your shoulder. Tears quickly built up in your (e/c) eyes due to the intense pain in your arm, and you suddenly regretted ever leaving your previous home back in the town that you had just moved from.

You whipped around quickly, finding yourself facing what looked like a ghost, a spectre- something you weren't even close to expecting. You shouted, fear overcoming you as you fled to unlock your door, pry it open, run in, and slam it shut behind you. Your breathing becoming quick in complete fear, you rushed to lock your door tightly, push a dresser in front of it, and dash to your bedroom.

Grabbing your iPod, you placed your earbuds into your ears, then began to listen to your favorite song- you were sure that your injured shoulder could wait a bit to be treated, at least until you had calmed down. Spectres were one of the main things you were afraid of, and you were defenseless against the spirits. You just didn't want to lose your life to one, not yet.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, and even though you hated how sensitive you were, you really didn't care at the moment. You balled up on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest tightly. Anything to take away the thought that there had been a ghost at your front door. Grabbing the paper and pencils on the floor beside you, you quickly began to jot down some quick doodles to get your mind away from things.

Much to your dismay, your doodles turned into different spectres, and one little person that happened to be you running from group of ghosts. That didn't go quite as planned.

Squeaking to yourself in disappointment, you crumbled up the paper and hurled it across your room, using your arm that wasn't wounded. You froze mid-throw, due to a knock at your door- who exactly could be wanting to see you right now, other than Angelina?