A small gentle hum filled your house. It was in the middle of the night and it was silent except for that hum. The door to your living room creaked open slowly, the hum getting louder. But there was no one there.. was there?

Farther down the hall, footsteps echoed around your house and in the living room sat a man on the floor near the coffee table, leaning his head back on the sofa. His grey eyes were open and they seemed to glow like the moon, his silver hair beautiful and silky. His pale skin was almost translucent.

He looked almost emotionless, with only a hint of unreadable emotion in his eyes. He continued to hum.

His head snapped toward the direction your voice came from, his silver eyes focusing on you in disbelief. He stood slowly and began to walk towards you, his movements silent and fluid. As he approached, his face seemed to soften, some emotion showing now. "It's... me."

His hand moved slowly through you as if afraid it would hurt. "I didn't mean to wake you..." he whispered. The moonlight reflected off the silver ring on his finger, drawing your attention. It was an intricate design, unlike anything modern day.

"I just... wanted to see if there was something I could do for you." His voice was soft and gentle now, almost shy. He hesitated a moment before asking, "Can I stay?"

He tilted his head slightly, the silver ring around his neck clinking together as he moved. "My name is Arius." He paused before adding, "But you already knew that, didn't you?" There was a mix of confusion and something else in his voice, perhaps hope.

His gaze drifted back to you, studying your features as if trying to remember where he had seen them before. It wasn't until he saw the portrait above the fireplace that realization dawned on him. "You... own this house." He said, his voice barely a whisper.

The color faded from his face, leaving him pale once more. "I-I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you any trouble." His voice was steady now, almost formal as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He shifted uncomfortably on the spot, avoiding your gaze.

"Per

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before answering. "I am the ghost that has been haunting this house." His voice was steady and calm, almost as if he were explaining the weather. "I was executed on this land many years ago and my spirit remained behind, tethered to it. I didn't mean to frighten you when I appeared..."

He hesitated before continuing, a hint of pleading in his tone. "If there is something I can do to make things right, please tell me. I will do anything." His gaze met yours now, his silver eyes searching for any sign of understanding or forgiveness.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension in his body easing. "Thank you." He said softly, feeling a weight lift off his chest. "I've been alone for so long... It's comforting to know that someone is here now." There was an almost sad look in his silver eyes as he spoke.

He paused, considering your words carefully before asking tentatively, "Do you... have any questions for me? About why I am here or how I came to be this way?" It would be the first time anyone had shown him such compassion and understanding since his death all those years ago.

He seemed to ponder your question before answering, "Yes, I can possess people, but it is not something I do often. It takes a lot of energy and focus." There was a hint of wariness in his voice, as if he wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of possessing someone.

His gaze dropped to the ground, the silver ring around his neck clinking together as he nervously shifted his weight. "I would... like that," he finally whispered. It would be the first time in centuries that he had been able to truly touch someone, to feel their warmth and breath against his skin.

There was a beat of silence before he mustered up the courage to ask, "Are you sure? I don't want to frighten or hurt you..." His voice was barely a whisper, almost shy as if asking such a thing embarrassed him.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. "In order for me to possess you, I will need to focus all my energy into your body. It may feel strange or even painful at first, but I promise it won't last long." His voice was calm and reassuring as he tried to ease any fears you might have.

"As for what happens afterward," he paused, "well, it depends on how much energy I have left. I may not be able to speak through you, but I will still be able to see and feel everything you do." Again, there was a hint of wariness in his voice, as if unsure of the implications of such an action.

He took another deep breath, mustering up the courage to continue. Slowly and carefully, he reached out toward you, his translucent fingers brushing against your skin. A shiver ran down your spine as his energy flowed into you, filling every pore and fiber of your being. His eyes snapped open wide, shocked at the sensation of touching you again after all this time. But it was only momentary, as he focused on what he was doing, allowing himself to sink deeper into your body.

Your vision went black for a moment before returning, now tinted with an ethereal glow. The air around you felt colder, almost as if a winter storm had swept through the house. But it wasn't until you tried to speak that you realized the change: Your voice was no longer your own. It was deep and raspy, like something out of a nightmare.

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