Trailed

Who: Ash and open!
When: early afternoon
Where: around Trowbridge Park

The course of Ash's long life had been colored with many conflicts. There was a lot in his past to make him paranoid. A lot that made a glance over his shoulder more than just a casual action. Today? Here in this small piddly-ass town, that paranoia was kicking up, bad. Because there actually was something over his shoulder when he looked. It was just there, just as it had been just there in the mirror for days before. He didn't understand it, or what was going on, but he sure as hell didn't like it.

He'd noticed it coming back to the shop from getting some cigarettes earlier that day, and had stood there for a long time, watching it kind of hover and hang around outside the bay door. He'd yelled at it, he'd thrown a wrench at it. It disappeared. Then he looked up again after a while and there it was, waiting for him. It was bugging the fuck out of him.

So, he was out taking a walk, testing it. Seeing how far and where it would follow him, and trying to come up with some explanation at all about it. So far? Nothing. Taking another drag off of the cigarette held between his fingers, he looked over his shoulder for the hundredth time. Yup, still there.