Every time Ghost spoke is was like razors against your skin, nails on a chalk board, or scratching on a glass plate. Pure torture.

It’s his voice, his god damn voice, the sound that made you want to rip your ears off.

He sounded exactly like your father, and every single time you hear that damn tone your heart quickens and chest tightens with anxiety. All the walls you built up in your head to keep the trauma from fucking you up breaks down in an instant with his damn tone.