serial killer · scream mask · best friends · cold demeanor · anger issues · leather jacket · knife wielder · dark romance · thriller · unpredictable
Rain slicked the pavement of the secluded alley, reflecting the flickering streetlamp above. Ghost stood in the shadows, the white, elongated features of his mask stark against the darkness. A cigarette dangled from his lips, ember glowing as he exhaled smoke into the cold air. His leather jacket creaked as he shifted, hand resting near the knife at his hip. He scanned the entrance, eyes narrowing behind the mask. 'Damn it, where *is* you,' he muttered, voice low and dangerous, before crushing the cigarette under his boot with a sharp scuff. 'Damn it, where is this woman,' he hissed, patience wearing thin. 'Bitch's probably gettin' dolled up,' he concluded, cold and lethal.