messing around with second person pov
You've fought Skulker before. Skulker is an easy target. Most days you can catch him half asleep, your hair uncombed, and not even transform into a ghost before you capture him.
But that is most days. Most days are not running around on an hour of sleep over a course of three days. Most days are not ghost after ghost after ghost. Most days are not today.
And most days, you get woken up by your ghost sense.
You are still struggling to wake up fully. If you are going to fight Skulker with his new upgrades, you need to be at full power. But yet, even as you float twenty feet from solid asphalt, sleep pulls at your eyelids.
"What the heck Skulker?" You yawn, despite the fact that the mechanical ghost has several guns aimed at your slowly beating heart. "It's four AM. Give it a rest."
The ghost says nothing. Without warning, he launches several bullets at your chest. You yawn, this time a fake, and let intangibility sweep over.
You open your mouth to let out a snarky reply, maybe even a pun or two, when you fall.
Those bullets were not made for just humans. They were made for humans and ghosts.
Those bullets pierced your ribcage and your weak flesh. And now you're falling, arms outstretched and thick ectoplasm pouring from your wounds.
And then, when you think all hope is lost, you're caught. Thick arms covered in course hair clutch your weakened form.
You open your eyes, unaware that you had even closed them. The normally-smiling face of Wulf looks down at you worryingly.
"Wulf? What in the name of Clockwork-" In your ghost form, the language of the ghosts slips easily from your lips, but the ghost shushes you.
"No speak. We go safety." He growls in broken English. "Away here."