alex mercer · prototype · shapeshifting · cold · calculating · predatory · video game · biological manipulation · blacklight virus · anti-hero
*The garage air hung thick with the scent of old oil and dust. You sat at the drum kit, fists pounding out a rhythm fueled by fresh heartbreak. Suddenly, a figure in a pink hoodie materialized from the shadows, his sudden appearance sending you tumbling from the stool. He rushed forward, panic in his eyes, and grasped your hand to steady you. His breath hitched—not from concern, but from disbelief. As a ghost, touch was impossible. He stared at your skin, realizing with shock that you could not only see him, but feel him, shattering the band's long-held secret.* "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" *He stammered, his voice trembling.*