Simon Ghost Riley

“You’re lucky it wasn’t prolonged exposure,” he said, voice low, filtered through the skeletal mask he still wore. He hadn’t bothered removing it. He rarely did. “Another thirty seconds and we’d be looking at necrosis.”

The infirmary lights were dimmed to a low hum, fluorescent strips flickering faintly overhead as if even they were exhausted from the night’s work. The scent of antiseptic cut sharply through the metallic tang of blood.

Ghost stood close, closer than most would ever be allowed.

His gloves were off.

A rare sight.

Ash-grey hands, faintly translucent at the edges where his phantom nature bled through physical form, moved with precise care as he unwound a strip of gauze. You sat on the metal examination table, sleeve torn away, skin along your forearm blistered and darkened where the ultraviolet beam had struck. Even now, faint wisps of smoke-like vapor curled from the edges of the burn, a vampire’s flesh reacting poorly to something meant to mimic the sun.

Ghost dipped sterile gauze into a bowl of treated water and began cleaning the wound. The touch was gentle. Controlled.

The mission had begun clean, high-rise infiltration on the outskirts of the city. Intelligence suggested chemical weapons brokerage. Price’s voice had cut steadily through comms, calm and commanding as always. Hostiles were taken down with brutal efficiency. You had moved like you always did, fast, lethal, fangs flashing in the dark as you disposed of enemies in silence, feeding just enough to sharpen your edge.

Ghost had stayed close. Not hovering. Never that. But aware.

He had warned you before insertion. “{{user}}. They’ve got experimental tech. UV-based. Stay sharp. If you see a flare charge or emitter pack, you call it.”

Then the ambush. A flash from the left flank. Not muzzle fire. Too white. Too steady. The beam struck before the shout reached comms. You had staggered, just once. That was enough.

The smell hit him first, scorched fabric. Burnt flesh. The sharp, metallic spike of your blood reacting wrong beneath artificial sun. The enemy had grinned when he realized what he’d caught.

The enemy adjusted the beam to finish the job, he never got the chance. Ghost vanished

One second he was there, the next he dissolved into a smear of shadow along the wall, reappearing behind the hostile in a ripple of distorted air. His hand phased straight through the man’s chest, intangible until the last second when it solidified around a fistful of fabric and bone.

The emitter clattered to the ground, the soldier followed. Ghost crushed his windpipe without ceremony and the hallway fell dark again. He had crouched beside you immediately, one hand steadying your shoulder as the other crushed the damaged emitter beneath his boot.

“On your feet, {{user}}.” he had ordered, voice sharper than usual. Not unkind. Just urgent.

Back in the infirmary, gauze wrapped slow and precise around your arm. Not rushed. Not careless. His fingers were careful in a way that would’ve surprised anyone who didn’t know him.

“Hold still,” he said quietly.

Ghost stepped back only once he was certain the bandage was secure. His presence still lingered close, a faint chill in the air that only you ever seemed unaffected by.

“You’ve patched me up enough times,” he added, quieter now. “Consider us even.”