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I can't recall how long it has been since I've seen the light of day. It's awfully uncomfortable, walking around and feeling the slick texture of- organs, was it?
This isn't the ideal way of going out and about with life. No, I mean, afterlife.
I hate it here, in this twisted hell. Even people in the real world know this place is hell on Earth, but they still gobble up the propaganda the owner spits out like it's the first meal they've had in years.
I have to steal bodies to talk to others, otherwise I'm mute. That's the thing about being a ghost. Also, you never age physically. You just mature mentally.
I'm a forty-year-old woman. Forty. And I'm in the ghost body of a pubescent 10 year old. What a chance.
To clear myths up, no, a ghost cannot manipulate their form. Trust me, I've already tried. And if you think ghosts can be seen by people- ohohohoh, don't you have another thing coming for ya. Ghosts cannot be seen. They are only what people like to call "poltergeists."
The only beings that can see me or detect my presence (No, a medium cannot see or feel ghosts.) are the animatronics here. That's easily explained by the fact that they are possessed. Even though I've never personally met the spirits haunting them. And the small one, named Princess Tabby is the perfect corporeal body. Compared to the rest, that is.
She's a wimp. She won't stop me at all, and its a great feeling to have power- no, that's not the word.
Ah yes, the word: Dominance.
I'm dominant. I'm the leader of her. In fact, with some of the animatronics, I am the leader. They won't make me back off.
Not if I'm this headstrong.