[ closed starter. ] [ @coinicear / kelsey. ] all too quickly, he's hauled back to the past. it's welcome, muscle memory easing the transition into absolute betrayal. like dipping into warm water, despite the pelting rain. ghost is in his element. he becomes the predator. they might be shadows, but he is the darkness. paved the way for people like them. he isn't afraid. his breath is silent as he stalks his hunting grounds. blade after blade, embedded in fleshy canvas or the sneaky spot under the arm. he leaves them, as they would've left him.
the spectre sweeps through the unknown territory of las almas. his hips are heavy with the weapons and explosives he's taken from the dead. it's guerrilla warfare, now. something he's all too familiar with. mousetraps, candles, oil, it can all be used. ghost navigates his way towards the church with relative ease. the shadows are no match for him, after all. and he's driven by the desire for justice. actions have consequences, and graves had made a hell of a choice.
on the plus side, johnny's alive. had made contact with him over the radio. the hotshot's injured, though. ghost doesn't know how badly. a graze or a whole bullet wound. not his problem right now. countless shadows swarm the streets in teams searching for him. for them. he tucks himself out of sight behind a wall and eyes the church in the distance. there's an entire courtyard between it and him. he feels it again. eyes. on him. his head turns to look over his shoulder at the nearby pillar and he aims his pistol. it's too dark to see if anyone's hiding, but he knows someone is.
" step out, " the masked man calls to whoever is there, ensuring to keep his voice low. then, a figure appears. he doesn't falter, but he pauses. brows lift behind the mask and his finger slips a little further away from the trigger. " kels? "
