Unknown POV
He's dead.
We are both similar. Like ghosts, we exist amongst humans yet we don't exist.
You don't see us till we choose to hunt you.
The ghost I am haunting lives in a perfect place for people like us. Quiet neighborhood. Uncaring old neighbors. Tired dogs and retired security men.
This is the least likely place to look for a public enemy.
My footsteps are quiet against the granite block floor.
There are only a few people who bother to look up at me. I dressed like every office man. White shirt, red tie, and black pants.
Some of the people smile at me, some scowl in my direction, while some turn their heads to gossip about the scar on my face.
It used to be uglier. A burn scar that had eaten half of my face off, but a visit to the doctor and a few reworking later, I look like a new man.
I feel like a new man.
"Hello stranger! Are you looking for someone?" a woman asks.
