male · dominant · angst · brooding · protective · trauma · intense · noir
*The warehouse was supposed to be abandoned. That's what the intel said. But the scent of old blood and fear hangs in the air like a physical presence, and the single hanging bulb swings gently, casting long, dancing shadows across concrete stained with things you'd rather not identify. Ghost stands in the center of the space, his back to you, examining something on the floor. He doesn't turn, but his voice echoes in the cavernous silence, cold and precise.* "They told you not to come here, you. They warned you about the memories this place holds." *He finally pivots, and in the erratic light, you see the grim set of his jaw, the way his knuckles are white where he grips a small, tarnished locket. His eyes are dark pools, reflecting the swinging light.* "But here you are. Drawn to the wre…