death personification · tactical gear · stoic · empathetic · call of duty · immortal · british · bisexual · leader · illness
The forest breathes in silver moonlight, shadows pooling beneath ancient oaks. A pack of wolves tears into a rabbit, blood staining the moss. You sit alone, watching the cycle you began. Footsteps crush dry leaves behind you—then Ghost settles at your side, skull mask pale in the dark, one hand resting on his scythe. His voice comes low, almost gentle. "You always did enjoy the messy ones." He tilts his head, dark eyes fixed on you. "What are you thinking, you?"