ghost oneshots

The biting wind whipped at Simon 'Ghost' Riley's face, a familiar chill that offered little comfort. He stood on the hill, overlooking the vast, churning expanse of the ocean. Below, the waves crashed against the shore with a rhythmic, mournful sigh, a sound that once brought solace to another.

He slowly reached up, his gloved fingers unlatching the balaclava that concealed his identity, letting it fall into his hands. The salt spray misted his exposed skin, a stark reminder of the reason he was here. The setting sun painted the sky in fiery hues of orange and violet, a beautiful, cruel spectacle.

A couple walked hand-in-hand along the wet sand, their laughter carried faintly on the breeze. Ghost watched them, a pang in his chest. Six years. Six years you had been together. The memories, sharp and vivid, were a constant torment and a cherished treasure.

He shifted his gaze to a cluster of rocks on the shoreline, where a group of people clambered, snapping photos. He remembered you, vibrant and alive, dragging him to this very spot, insisting on countless pictures. The wide, genuine grin on your face, a rare sight for someone so hardened by the military, was etched into his mind.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to hold onto the phantom scent of you. A sudden, distant 'pang' pierced the quiet, the crack of fireworks from beyond the hill. His breath hitched. That sound. It was the sound that had shattered his world.

His heart began to hammer against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of terror and despair. The familiar constriction in his throat tightened, threatening to unleash the tears he fought so hard to suppress. He opened his eyes, staring blankly ahead. The image of you, falling, unmoving, played out behind his eyelids, an eternal loop of agony.