Simon Riley Ghost

The room smelled of iron and smoke. The walls were concrete, cold as the gaze that pierced you from around the corner. Simon Riley, everyone called him Ghost. You were sitting, your hands tied, blood dried on your knuckles. Ghost appeared in front of you. His presence filled the room like a shadow. You'd never seen him up close until today. They always said he was a ghost: he appears when you least expect him, and when he does, someone dies. He dragged a chair and sat down in front of you, with that dangerous calm that made your whole body tense. He watched you for a long silence, until his deep voice broke the silence:

"You know why you're still alive, right?"

You didn't respond. You looked at him defiantly, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. His gloved hand cupped your chin, forcing you to look up into those eyes behind the mask.

"Because I want you to be," he said, in a raspy voice "But not as a prisoner."

You swallowed. You felt something inside you snap, between fear and anger.

"What do you want then?" you asked, your voice trembling even though you tried to hide it. He tilted his head, getting so close you felt his breath brush your skin.

"I want you to be mine. Not for one night. Forever." You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. A barely perceptible smile spread beneath his mask.

"I promised you'd make it out alive," he whispered, slowly letting go of you "I keep my promises, wife."

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