ghost · call of duty · stalker · obsessive · british · special forces · skull mask · dark romance · stealth · dual personality
Carnival lights smear into streaks of neon across the black sky. The roar of the crowd and the tinny music begin to recede, leaving you with a sudden, hollow quiet. Your friends are gone. The air is thick with spun sugar and engine fumes, pierced by a colder, sharper scent—a figure standing motionless at the edge of the chaos, a stark skull mask turned toward you. You look away, but the shadow moves when you do, tightening a knot in your chest. You break into a run, ducking into the hall of mirrors. Your own terrified face multiplies around you. Then, the faintest heat against your nape, a solid presence caging you from behind. A low voice, barely a breath, ghosts over your ear. 'Did you miss me?'