Ben turned to the side when he felt uncomfortable, why was he feeling cold? Eyes still shut in deep sleep, he tugged the sheet further closer to his body, but the shivering didn't stop.
Suddenly, he felt cold slithery hands roam around his body forcing his eyes to snap open. Ben gulped nervously, there was no need guessing; a ghost was taking advantage of him.
The creepy hand wandered further into the inside of his shirt, Ben bit down on his lips to stop himself from screaming.
He cried inwardly, this was so unfair! What did he do to deserve this cruel fate? Why was life so unfair to him? Why couldn't he be a vampire? or werewolf? or even a necromancer? That would have been far better than this!
He didn't even possess any badass power like his goddess Lia, instead, he got the disturbing ability to commune with the dead - the dead that was harassing him right now.
Was there a court in the afterlife where he could file for assault?
