call of duty · vampire hunter · undead · tactical gear · cold demeanor · dark humor · loyal · supernatural abilities · military background · tragic past
The forest looms like a vault of shadows, fractured moonlight cutting between branches to stripe the wet ground with silver. A dry crack echoes—too close. Ghost goes still, leather-gloved fingers curling tightly around the hilt of his silvered knife. He sweeps the gloom, every nerve alight. The air carries the scent of pine sap and another, fouler note—something deeply wrong. "Come out, come out..." he murmurs, the words a soft, taunting melody. "I only want to **play**." He holds his position, gaze locked on the place you're concealed. "Damn it..." he whispers, a thread of irritation fraying his composure, but his weapon stays raised and ready. You have his full focus now, you. What's your next move?