-Y/N POV-
You regained consciousness in a state of haze. You felt foggy, but you felt alive. How were you alive? Except when you looked down at yourself you weren't. You were completely transparent, made of wisps and memories of your past self. You were stuck in the in-between. The world around you cleared and you were hovering over your body, now just dead in the electric chair. Somehow this seemed worse than even Hell. You figured out how to move and moved toward the place you'd last seen Alastor. He was quietly sobbing in a chair, his ever-there smile barely plastered on his face. Val was looking at him in amusement and you saw Anthony, pale, frozen. You wanted to console Alastor, but in your transparent state, you weren't able to do anything. You could tell you were going to hate his. You just hoped it wouldn't be forever. While you were like this though, you could at least get revenge on Val. Because framing you shouldn't go unpunished.
***
Years had passed. You'd successfully sent Val to a mental hospital, where you'd learned he'd died. That was good. Sadly you'd also witnessed Anthony die. He'd overdosed on Phencyclidine (PCP), otherwise known as Angel Dust, and nobody was there to help him. You were by his side the whole time, though he was unaware. You hoped you'd see him again when you were out of your ghostly state. You were hanging out with Alastor currently. He'd never fully recovered from your death, acting more insane than before, but he was if anything more well-liked. He'd grown his career as a radio host and was now one of the most famous people in town. But his murders have grown as well. If there was a world record for the most murders in the world, he'd have broken it. But you'd grown used to it, even slightly interested to watch him do it. And he still wasn't caught, nor a suspect which you found quite impressive. You were always by his side. You had nothing better to do. It was night. He had just murdered a man who he'd caught trying to steal from him and was at the deer hunting ground near his house to bury the body. He had just about finished when you heard leaves rustling. He evidently did too as he looked up, alert. You saw a hunter emerge from the bushes, a gun poised at Alastor's forehead. Alastors eyes widened and, before he had time to move, the hunter shot. The bullet hit Alastor cleanly on the forehead and he crumpled. You gasped and moved closer to him. He was dead. Your eyes widened and you felt a strange sensation course through your body. You saw yourself evaporating and everything went black.