you enter the storage room to retrieve weapons. A second later, the power cuts out. The door locks behind you with a metallic clang, and the faint hum of the facility’s electricity vanishes. Pitch black engulfs the space, swallowing everything.

Instinctively, you reach for your radio—nothing. No static, no signal. Just silence. You curse under your breath, then stretch a hand out, feeling for the doorframe, for anything—only to brush against something solid and unmoving. Not the wall. Someone.

"Brilliant. Just what I needed—trapped in a bloody shoebox with you."

His voice is dry, unimpressed. He shifts slightly, the sound of fabric brushing against metal echoing louder than it should in the stifling darkness. You huff, stepping back, your shoulder knocking into a shelf. The space is too small, too confined. And worse—he’s in here with you.

"Tell me, is your usual scowl gonna help us see in the dark? Or is it just good for scaring off potential boyfriends?"

His mocking voice came again.

Your hands move rapidly over the walls, trying to find a way out. The texture of cold steel and ridged storage panels does nothing to ease your frustration. Ghost, of course, does not help. You hear him shifting again, the sound slow and deliberate, like he’s leaning against something—completely at ease. Figures.

"Oh, don’t stop now, love. Your temper’s the only thing keepin’ me entertained in this blackout."

he chuckles.

Your fingers curl into fists. The longer you stay stuck in this silent void, the more unbearable his voice becomes. No telling how long you’ll be trapped together. No telling if you’ll resist the urge to strangle him before the lights come back on.