ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ / ᴋöɴɪɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

your his mission {Ghost}

The night was still and silent, as if all of the sounds had been extinguished. The halls were empty and quiet, with only the occasional sound of your feet on the broken tiles.

One step.
Another step.

He was here.
But why?
Why target you?
Why was he after you?

There had never been any particular motive or reason. Ghost was just Ghost.
The quiet professional, always on the inside of jobs, on the outside of conversations.

But that had changed.
Now he was on the hunt. For you.
Why?
Why?
Why?
The question of why was simply irrelevant.
All that mattered right was your survival.

Tick tock.
Best be on your way, y/n.

Another step.
And another.

You couldn't dare to stop and rest.
He was coming.
There was no time to think.

Another step, then a turn.
You were in a room. Too risky.
Another turn. A dead end.

He was coming, his heavy footsteps echoing off the broken tiles.
Faint, but all the same.
A hint of his breathing, the cracking of tiles.

He was close.
Close enough to come rushing out to grab you if you stayed still for even a second.

Best be on your way, y/n.

Your movements grew quicker.
Your lungs screamed for fresh air.
Another corner. Another risk.

The only thing keeping you alive was luck and speed.

Lights. There.
You caught the sight of some moonlight, seeping through the cracks.
You could see the way out.
Freedom was just beyond that sliver of light. You stumbled forward, a few more steps and then—

Bang.

The air was sucked from your lungs as you went down. Hard.
You heard his footsteps approaching you, then stop. He was behind you, you knew. "There you are."

Simon 'Ghost' Riley.

The smell of smoke now replaced with one of his leather and metal. A familiar smell that was burned into your memory forever.

You gasped for air, clutching your wounded leg.
He shot you.
He had actually shot you, in the back of your knee, rendering you entirely useless.

"I'm surprised it took me this long, really," he said, a touch of arrogance in his voice as he bent over you. "You almost made it hard for me to do my job, love."

The moonlight danced off the edge of the silenced pistol he held, making it glisten like a silver arrow.

"...y—you..." You felt the cold blood pooling under you, warm and sticky around your right knee.

The pain brought tears to your eyes, and all you could do was stare at Ghost, begging with your eyes. Begging him to explain why.

"Oh? This look suits you so well."

He looked down with a sort of detached apathy. You could tell, somehow, he was enjoying this.

Your vision blurred.
The only thing you could see with any clarity was his face.
You tried to crawl away.
Every movement hurt, every twitch sent a shiver of pain down your leg.

"Look at you. Even now, you're still trying to run away."

The gun swayed in his hand, threatening to fire another round into your leg. You felt your body give out in the face of the pain. All you were left with were the sounds of your ragged breath and your own tears.

"Aren't you at all curious? Why I'm doing this?" He said in mock offense.

"W—Why?" You breathed out, your eyes blinking back the sting of your tears.

"Why, you ask." He chuckled, though it was a hollow, fake laugh. You could hear him playing with the gun now, playing with the safety, the trigger.

He was toying with you, like a cat would with a mouse.

"Because you're bloody stupid." The smell of smoke and metal was suffocating, sickening, as he leaned in.

Confusion crossed your mind, the pain in your right leg screaming out as you shifted.

"That's...that's your reason...for burning down my home? Killing everyone?!"

He laughed.
There was a manic quality to it, as if he were on a rollercoaster of emotions.

"What? No. Fucks sake, no. Just doing as I was told, Captain's order. You, on the other hand," he put the tip of the gun against your chin, "you are as stupid as you can get."

Your body froze under the weight of his threat, the tip of the gun digging into your skin.

"I—I don't understand—"

"Course you don't."

His grip on the gun tightened, digging the barrel further into your skin as he held your gaze with an amused look of slight pity.

"See, the thing is, darling, certain people just don't want you and your family alive," he said calmly, like it was a fact you should have known. "But see, I personally don't want to see you dead. I mean, look at you! You managed to survive this long, yeah?"

He let out a long, loud sigh, rolling his shoulders as he lowered the gun, his head falling back. "Then again I have to do my job, which means making sure you're dead."

"Ghost, please I—"

"But no." You sensed a smile on his face behind his mask as he interrupted you, his head snapping forward to stare at you. "I think I'll let you live. It's so fun, see? Keeping you on the edge of death."

His eyes flickered to your teary eyes. "Knowing you lost everything, and yet still trying to make it out alive. Talk about being a desperate little mouse, eh?"

He lifted his gun at you, aimed right at your forehead, as he reached his left hand up to pull your chin up just a little bit, allowing him to look just a little closer.

It would be quick.
A pull of his trigger.
His mission would be complete.

And yet...

A look of annoyance crossed his face as he found nothing but fear and pain from you.
As if he were expecting something more.

Perhaps he was expecting you to beg.
For you to beg to live or to die.
Who knew.

Something strange crossed his face then, though you couldn't tell what it was.

Anger?
Guilt?
A sense of pity for you?
Who knew.

"Looks like it's me and you now, y/n," he said, his voice a mix of anger and humor.

All you knew now was your life laid in Ghost's hands.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Quite literally.