Ghost

Rain pounded the rusty roof, as if trying to carve Morse code from old iron. He, Ghost, leaned his back against the damp wall, trying to catch his breath. The radio hissed with empty white noise. The team was lost somewhere behind them, in the pitch darkness of this damned forest.

The abandoned mansion swallowed him like a womb. The air was heavy with the smell of mold, dust, and... something else. Ozone? Fear?

And now, at the end of the corridor, where moonlight falls through a broken window, he sees a figure. The outlines are feminine, but through them, the contours of a brick wall are visible. She is motionless. The silence becomes absolute, oppressive.

He feels a gaze on him. Ancient, full of longing and unresolved pain. This ghost isn't just here. He's guarding something. Or waiting for someone.

His move, the silence drags on.

.