Chapter Text
A soft giggle floated into his head, pulling him out of a black heaviness. His steady breathing was a façade. He was not calm and felt in danger. But it couldn’t be. He was in the safest place, with the safest person, and had no reason to be bothered.
He opened his eyes, the light was dim, the surroundings still and yet oppressive. Goosebumps lay on his back, they were not pleasant, and his senses were heightened to the extreme. The cold air enveloped him in a cocoon of unease and unpredictability.
Who am I?
He took deep breaths and slid back and forth on the chair. If he wanted to, he could stand up, he wasn't tied down. Still, his gut kept him from doing so. He had the urge that he had to do something, something for someone. The unease almost scared him.
"Simon Riley," a faint whisper. A voice, cold and warm at the same time, and he immediately recognized it. Brown hair, tanned skin, a high forehead, and sunken dark beady eyes. Like a grown-up goblin, a man smaller than him, but with a friendly yet sardonic expression. He was nothing and everything all at once.
He often talks to me.
"Who are you?" The man he was thinking of stepped out of a shadow as he asked his question and came to a halt in front of him. The image in his mind's eye matched the person coming into his field of vision exactly.
"I," his voice broke, he hadn't used it for a long time.
Usually, I talk a lot!
He shook his head and narrowed his eyes, becoming a bit more confident. "I'm Simon Riley, the call name is Ghost." A memory stirred but couldn't be grasped. His brain was slow, so slow like a snail. And he hated snails, although he had no reason to.
"Good, who am I?"
He took a deep breath and thought. "You're Elias." The name popped into his head, but he couldn't grasp it. Something unusual despite knowing the man all his life.
"Who's that?" He showed him a picture of a man who was about to kill someone else.
His alarm bells started ringing – no they were bellowing – he calmed down a little and stared blatantly at the picture, wanting to burn the person with his gaze. "His name is König!" He hissed the hated name quietly, even though he couldn't quite tell where his anger was coming from.
"What did he do to you?" Elias watched his face, and he brought a hand to his cheek, wondering why he was unmasked. "What did he do to you?" The insistent voice above him became more urgent and he snapped out of his thoughts.
"He killed my family, set fire to our house, and burned my brother alive!" An ache ran through his heart, and a question through his brain. Why did the fire happen? Why can’t he remember his parents? Did they love him? Why was his brother not outside?
Or was I an only child?
Elias bent down to him with a broad smile. "Good, he's my enemy too. We both want him dead, don't we?"
He nodded slowly. "That's true."
Right?
"So, Simon "Ghost" Riley, who do you belong to?"
"You!" Without hesitation, the answer came out of him. He knew no other reality than with the man in front of him. His life was dull and had nothing else to offer than the company of Elias.
"Will you obey my orders?" He nodded sluggishly in reply and a smile appeared on the thin lips again, the mouth was slightly crooked. Then Elias handed him a plate of food, he eyed the Spaghetti Bolognese suspiciously.
"Eat and then go back to your room!"
He hesitantly accepted the plate and then began to eat quickly, wolfing it all down in a hurry, his hunger suddenly very great with the warm dish in front of him. When his plate was empty, it was taken from his hand and a glass of water was pressed into his hand. He drank so quickly that a little liquid ran down his chin, he wiped it off with the heel of his hand.
He had eaten, so he stood up, looked at Elias, and then walked past him. He had no idea where his room was, but his legs carried him on their own, up a flight of stairs through a door. He opened another door and found himself in a stately, large house. The polished tiles gleamed, and a white marble statue stood decoratively in the center of the hall. He climbed another flight of stairs to the first floor and walked past two doors, stopping at the third door. It was white and shut. Still, he knew that this was his place to rest.
He pushed down the handle, opened the door, and entered the room. He closed the door behind him and leaned back against it. His gaze fell on a white desk with a white chair against the wall to his right. On the opposite side was a large wardrobe. If he looked straight ahead, he found a large double bed and if he focused his gaze further back, he could see a large window. Looking out of the window, he could make out a glittering deep blue sea, on which a few sailing boats were anchored with the gentle movement of the water. It was a beautiful sight. The shining and glimmering calmed him a bit, the far-back islands scattered around the horizon. It was like a vacation place, still, he had perfect privacy with calm and no disturbing tourists.
But he didn't like the position of the bed. If he lay facing the door, he would have the window at his back and if he lay facing the window, he would have the door at his back. That's why he always lay on his back, never on his side.
It's different at home.
He shook his head, he had no other home than this one.
Right?
He shook his head again, a headache crept behind his forehead and a light film of sweat settled on his back. He quickly stepped through a connecting door opposite the bed and found himself in a white-tiled bathroom.
He looked down at the toilet, then to his right at the shower, and to his left was the washbasin. He even had a washing machine next to the door.
I never do the laundry, I do the cooking!
He frowned.
Right?
Then he slowly stepped in front of the sink and looked at the white ceramic. He slowly lifted his head and examined his reflection. He didn't like it. The blonde hair was styled into an uppercut that was growing out.
He'll have to cut it again.
He stared at his hair while trying to remember when Elias had cut it last.
His brown eyes looked at him thoughtfully, narrowed. But the harder he tried, the more he got a headache, so he stopped thinking about his hairstyle and looked at the scar that ran horizontally from the right to the left side of his face, interrupted by his nose. In contrast to this was the vertical scar that ran from the center of his chin to just above his Adam's apple.
It should have killed me, but it didn't.
He licked his chapped lips, he had no idea where the scars came from or what he had got them for. He felt like he was moving through life with an inexplicable heaviness. His memories should be clear, after all, he had been in this house for most of his life and yet there was nothing he could explicitly name that he had done here.
"I am Simon Riley," he started talking out loud to his reflection, looking down at his stubble, he would have to shave it. "I belong to Elias," he repeated the words that were planted in his head. "I'm his property?" Puzzled, he wondered why he was of this opinion, then it solidified. "I am his property!"
"No," he tilted his head thoughtfully and crossed his arms. "I'm Ghost!" Then he fell silent for a moment and looked down at the floor, where his foot tapped impatiently on the tiles. He noticed that his socks were both different colors. One was black, the other blue and it bothered him. "Or both?" He tore himself away from the socks and looked in the mirror again. "I'm Simon "Ghost" Riley. No separate personalities. I'm Simon Riley with call name ‘Ghost’", he took a deep breath and looked at his eyes firmly in the mirror. "Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is in a relationship with me!"
He paused. "What?"
He quickly stepped out of the bathroom, suppressing an inexplicable rising panic, and pulled off his jeans and T-shirt, throwing the clothes on the floor. Then he frowned when he saw the mess. He picked up the clothes again and placed them on the bed to fold them neatly. At last, he put the trousers and shirt in a neat pile on the desk. But he still didn't like it, only when he moved the pile to the corner of the surface he was satisfied.
His distracting activity had made him forget his thoughts for a moment. He drew the curtains of his window a little and went to bed. It was only afternoon, but he still wanted to sleep, after all, he loved to sleep. A slight smile crept onto his lips.
I love sleeping!
Finally, he lay down on his back and closed his eyes to indulge in the restorative activity. Nevertheless, he realized with a frown that something was missing, and he felt too big, he would rather lie on his side and roll very small.
As he opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling, Ghost couldn't help but think that something was wrong.
--
"Ghost, you're going to follow my orders, aren't you?" Elias looked at him questioningly from the other end of the table. Ghost nodded lazily and looked at his meat and vegetables, finding it a little dull and wishing the food on the plate was better presented.
Nevertheless, he quickly and hastily stuffed the dish into his mouth. He couldn't stop his leg from bouncing. "What should I do?" The ability to sit still eluded him with every passing minute. He wanted to move and go swimming. The sea was right at the doorstep, yet he felt that he wasn’t allowed to be outside of the house.
"I'm going to send you on a mission!" Elias ate much more slowly than he did. They were seated at a table for six, and they both sat at the head of the table so they could look directly at each other. It felt a little awkward for Ghost, but he didn't say anything, he would live as the man in front of him told him to.
"Should I kill König?" A tingling sensation crept through his fingers, Ghost didn't know where from, but he sensed that he was good at killing.
"No, it's too early for that, I still have to lay a trap for him." Elias smiled as he realized his thirst for action. "I need you to secure my goods, I'm afraid they've gone missing."
Ghost nodded and drank greedily from his water, his mouth was so dry all the time. "You know where it is?"
"Yes, my men will take you there by helicopter, my goods are in red boxes. We leave tomorrow morning."
"What kind of goods are they?" Ghost placed his cutlery on the empty plate and leaned back in his chair.
"You don't need to know." Elias dabbed his mouth with a napkin and put his cutlery on his plate as well. He hadn't finished his meal.
Ghost nodded and didn't question the orders, if the man in front of him decided he didn't need the information, he would believe him.
"Did you like it?" Elias looked at his empty plate with satisfaction.
Ghost hesitated, he didn't want to lie, but at the same time, he was afraid to speak the truth.
Afraid?
"Ghost!" He quickly pulled himself out of his thoughts. He stood up and suppressed the urge to clear his dirty dishes. A petite maid was already hurrying over and taking away his plate and glass.
Ghost bowed his head in thanks. "It was good, thank you."
Elias smiled. "Get some rest, we leave tomorrow at 0400."
--
He hadn't slept well that night. His dreams were about a fire and a pain-filled scream. His gaze was always fixed on red gushing blood dripping into a drain to his feet and breaking his heart over and over. Then he saw many blurry faces but could never put names to them until he finally woke up again when he heard a distant giggle.
That's why Ghost was already standing in front of his wardrobe at 2 o'clock in the morning, taking out his mission clothing. It was black, and the tactical harnesses were familiar, as were the helmet, headphones, and knee pads. Finally, his skull mask was in the wardrobe, and, sighing, he pulled it on and hid his face. Suddenly he felt much more comfortable in his skin. The urge to touch his face and run his fingertips over the scar tissue to irritate and constantly feel it, disappeared.
At just before four, he stood in front of the helicopter and was handed several weapons. None of them felt familiar, but he attached them to his body and finally, he was given several throwing knives and a longer field knife whose blade shone silver in the coming morning light. He attached the sheath to the waistcoat on his chest, but it felt out of place.
Another knife should be there.
He shook his head and climbed into the helicopter. As they rose into the air, he looked down at the small island, the house that was his home getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from his view.
He didn't say a word the whole flight, silently watching the men in the helicopter with him until they set him down again. Ghost rappelled out of the vehicle and jumped down to the harbor floor. He quickly took cover and looked around, his weapon loosely at the ready as he crept forward.
He didn't have to think about what he was doing for a second, his steps were silent and his movements quick and purposeful, he wasted no time and finally saw the military soldiers gathered around a container, standing in front of the open door. Ghost could make out several red boxes and licked his lips.
He counted ten men.
A piece of cake!
He threw the first knife without hesitation and ran. As the first man fell to the ground dead, Ghost was already slitting the throat of the second and punching the third in the nose. He whirled around and took cover from the shots behind the container door, reaching for his handgun and shooting two more men in the head.
Then he took a short run and jumped up onto the container. He heard the soldiers exchanging shouts, confusion reigned among them, which he now exploited, jumping from the container directly onto a man in the center and slashing the knife twice in the chest. He used another as a shield against the shots and then rammed the knife under the helmet into the larynx.
The last three men ran away from him, but he picked up his sniper rifle and took steady aim. Three times he had a head in the scope and three times he hit accurately.
He looked around and checked the surroundings, but no further sounds reached him as he spoke into his communication device and closed the door of the container.
"Goods secured."
He watched as the helicopter approached again and more men rappelled down to attach the helicopter's ejected ropes to the container. Satisfied, Ghost watched them while securing the perimeter.
He grabbed one of the ejected ropes and buzzed up, safely back in the helicopter, this time looking down at the diminishing surroundings. The harbor was huge and vast, he tilted his head and wondered if he had ever been in a place like this before. Then he shook his head and sat down in an empty seat.
--
Bored, Ghost stared at his plate. Like every evening, he sat with Elias at the far too large dining table on the opposite side of him. For the last few days, he had only been doing missions and even though he was glad to get out of the house, the missions were always the same and he was getting tired of the work of senseless killing. If he was honest, he didn't feel that killing the enemy was necessary, nor did he know why exactly he had to kill them or what they had done. The men he killed looked like military soldiers who were simply doing their jobs. Ghost wanted something else and longed for a closeness he could not name.
"Didn't you say Kaiserschmarrn was your favorite food?" Elias looked at his plate, which was half empty, but Ghost wasn't eating anymore and was just poking at the dish.
He nodded, he hadn't lied. "I think I was wrong, there must have been a time when I liked the dish better." He shrugged his shoulders and left the leftovers alone.
He was stared at with dissatisfaction, but Ghost ignored the look and stared back in the same way. His counterpart turned his face to his food and Ghost thought about Elias, what he knew about him, and realized he couldn't name it.
And yet I'm his property.
He shook his head and stood up.
"There's another mission tomorrow." Ghost stopped and didn't say anything back, he only knew one thing, if he refused, he would feel pain, he knew that without having experienced it.
Right?
"The usual?" He wanted to go upstairs and sleep, knowing that he would hardly get any rest and therefore usually slept in the afternoon.
Elias shook his head. "It's a hostage rescue."
Ghost nodded and took a breath, he turned and went to his room. A hostage rescue sounded extremely sensible to him, and he got the feeling that for once he wouldn't be killing carelessly the next day.
--
"The hostages are two women, we already had them with us, but then they were kidnapped and are now trapped in the house!" Elias pointed to the residence below them, Ghost looked around, but there was no sign of an enemy.
"Rog, I'll get them out and we'll leave." Without waiting for an answer, Ghost pulled out his knife and rappelled out of the helicopter. He was set down in a small clearing and hurried through overgrown grass to a two-story detached house. He turned around and checked the surrounding rows of houses, but it was dead quiet, and when he saw the door ajar, he got a queasy feeling, that something was wrong. The open door could be an invitation or a reckless mistake. Maybe the hostage takers were already waiting for him?
Nevertheless, he opened the door further with a flick of the muzzle of his gun and went inside. Putting one step in front of the other, he secured each room and roamed through the house, finding no cellar door, so he made his way up the stairs.
When he arrived in the first room, his headphones suddenly crackled, and the tense voice of Elias sounded in his ear. "Ghost, get out now, it's a trap!"
As soon as he heard the words, he saw the two soldiers. "Ghost!"
He quickly threw his knife to cut down the first one, but he dodged and ran towards him, unflinching. The British flag on the cap caught his eye, he had missed it with his blade. "Shit, Ghost! What are you doing?"
Confused by the behavior, he wanted to shoot the second man, but he was already in front of him and jerked the muzzle of his weapon aside. The shot slammed into the ceiling and rained down a drizzle of plaster on them. He blocked the coming blow. "Simon, it's me, Price!" The man with a thick beard in the fisherman's hat puffed heavily and, full of hatred, Ghost pushed him back.
"Ghost! Retreat now!" Elias’s voice became urgent, and Ghost dashed for the stairs, he grabbed the edge of a bookshelf and knocked it over, it crashed to the floor behind him, blocking the way to the stairs he just jumped down, and the other two couldn't follow him.
"Fucking fuck, he's here too soon!"
Ghost heard the voice from the stairs and jumped over the man trying to intercept him. He was smaller than him, but fast, yet Ghost was faster, and his knife would have dug into the throat had the man not yanked his arm in front of him. He sent more throwing knives into the arm, forcing him to retreat, bloodied and gasping.
They are good!
Ghost gritted his teeth as he felt arms from behind, gripping him tightly, trying to wrestle him down. He bent over and threw the body over his shoulder. With a groan, the man landed on his back and rolled away from Ghost's knife attack.
Ghost lunged forward, annoyed with himself that he hadn't killed either of them yet, and was stopped by the legs, it was as if his opponent knew his moves. His enemy reversed their position and threw him onto his back.
"Damn it Lt!" The man on top of him gasped as Ghost went for the back of his neck. Quickly, the one on top of him was on his feet and went for the gun. Ghost was back on his feet just as fast and yanked at a shelf again.
His opponent opened his eyes in shock and caught the fall of the piece of furniture on him, he was knocked to the ground and got distracted in trying to dampen his fall. Ghost watched in satisfaction as the legs were trapped under the shelf.
"Bloody hell! Ghost! It's me, Soap!" The man's words distracted him for a moment, and he felt he should know him. The blue eyes were bright and annoyingly distorted, if they were any darker, he would probably describe the color as beautiful. He quickly threw the thought away, he was in a fight and his enemy in front of him had lured him into a trap. But now he was nothing more than easy prey.
He made no reply and dropped to his knees to slit the throat beneath him. His opponent fought back fiercely and effectively with one arm. Nonetheless, Ghost's knife cut deep into the upper arm and yet he growled discontentedly at the missed throat.
Then the wrist!
Instead of pulling the knife out for another try, he yanked the blade down, towards the pulse arteries at the wrist. The clothing and the skin from the upper arm to the forearm were torn open by him mercilessly.
Suddenly his breath caught, and he immediately stopped the attack by ripping the knife out of the arm.
Danger!
Ghost was instantly on his feet and whirled around to face the man who had his anger shooting through his veins. Unfiltered, he allowed the hatred to take hold of him and make the air surrounding him oppressively heavy.
"König!" He hissed and saw the widening eyes that were a beautiful blue and the fingers that closed tighter around the knife. No sooner had he spoken, Ghost rushed forward, sending his blade hurtling through the air. König backed away not a second too late, one moment later and Ghost would have slit his throat, instead, he cut a little into the fabric of the black loose mask. It looked to him like a T-shirt.
"Ghost! STOP!" The man under the shelf shouted to him from the floor but he ignored him, his will to kill prevailed in the room and Ghost attacked so fast that König's only choice was to block every blow, he didn't give him a chance to even launch an attack.
Twisting the knife in his hand and ducking, Ghost rammed into the body and lifted him high into the air, only to send him thundering back to the floor. He threw himself onto the chest with his legs apart and reached for the handgun on König's protective vest, aiming it at his face, had König not quickly knocked it out of his hand like lightning.
Ghost heavied himself, stopped the rearing body's attempts, and raised the knife high into the air above his head. He visualized the exact path of the blade as it dug into the throat, tearing open and exposing the vital arteries so that his enemy died with a gasp at the sudden loss of blood.
König stopped writhing, his every muscle slackening, and looking up at him, he waited. Knife still high above his head, Ghost tensed his arms and brought the blade down.
His blue eyes fixed on him, König awaited his death without resistance. The blue eyes, which were endless and put Ghost in a trance, reminded him of the glittering sea he saw when he looked out of the window of his room.
He wanted to kill the man beneath him, yet the tip of his knife stopped in front of his throat. Breathing heavily and full of hatred, his gaze was diverted from the blue sea to the red beaded bracelet on his right wrist for only a millisecond.
"Ghost, where are you? The helicopter is outside the house!" He heard his owner's voice while still returning the penetrating gaze below him. The noise of a flying helicopter boomed around him, blocking out every other sound as well as Ghost's ability to think things through. He knew he had to make a decision.
Panting heavily, Ghost bent down further and pressed the tip of the knife against the fabric of the masking. "One wrong move and you're dead!" He whistled with fierce danger, putting all his hatred into his eyes. His hoped-for reaction of fear failed to materialize.
König below him nodded and didn't say a word, so far Ghost hadn't heard him speak. He stood up and grabbed the vest, then dragged König's body behind him, outside. He saw the helicopter overhead and grabbed one of the ropes to rake himself in, pushing his other arm under König's waistcoat and pulling himself up the rope into the bird.
Elias looked at him uncomprehendingly and observed him very angry. Then he looked openly at König, who was lying on the floor of the helicopter with his hands up.
"What are you doing? Kill him!" Angered, his owner pointed his gun at König.
"No!" Ghost reared up in front of König and glared at Elias, he didn't know why, but König wasn't allowed to die.
At least not yet!
"What are you doing this for? Why are you doing this?" Elias strode up to him in a huff and grabbed the collar of his jacket. Upset, Ghost tore himself away and looked first at Elias and then at König, desperately searching for an explanation.
"He's mine!" His gaze jumped back and forth between the two men, and he broke out in a sweat. The fight situation had left him deeply confused, his opponents seemed to know him, and they just didn’t back down. They were almost on par with his strength, even though nobody managed to overpower him.
"He's mine!" The blue eyes of König were on him without judgment as Ghost repeated his opinion. Annoyed at the lack of response from the laying man, Ghost turned his gaze directly to Elias and stared unabashedly, his voice not allowing for any backtalk. Now his hatred was out of control, and he just could not hold back.
"HE IS MY PROPERTY!"