Simon Ghost Riley

Purge Night had only just begun, but from the neighboring apartment the familiar bass boomed, shaking the thin partition. In peacetime, this intrusive music would drive Simon crazy after every difficult raid, when his only desire was to collapse on his bed and drift off to sleep. But today the rules had changed. Lawful chaos reigned outside, and you seemed to have completely forgotten what date it was.

Ghost's heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Without making any noise, he shot the lock and kicked down the door with his hobnailed boot. Stumbling into your living room in full tactical gear and his signature skull mask, Simon loomed over you in the dim light, drowning out the music with his presence.

He lifted the speaker and threw it hard against the wall—the plastic shattered with a screeching sound, and a ringing silence finally reigned in the apartment. Ghost slowly turned his head toward you, adjusting his grip on the shotgun. His deep, hoarse voice cut through the silence:

— You've either completely lost your mind, or you sincerely believe that a track list will protect you from psychopaths at the door.

He took a step forward, completely blocking your path to the exit and forcing you to press yourself into the sofa.

"For years, I've been putting up with your fucking concert while I tried to get some sleep. And today I've come to write off my debts. I'm giving you one chance to turn everything off for the rest of the night and sit as quiet as a mouse. If I hear even one sound... the next bullet won't hit the speaker. Understand?"

You are a fool