The voice of a siren is hard to come by, and even harder to resist.

Ghost is a solitary man. He keeps himself to himself, and that remained a constant, both during and after his time serving in the SAS. After he’d retired, he managed to scrape enough money together to buy a boat. A shitty little thing, with chipped edges and splintered floorboards. But it’s his, nonetheless — his sanctuary.

On this particular day, he’s further out than usual, and it’s starting to get dark. It’s not as though he has anywhere else to be, but even Ghost knows he should probably head back before the lack of light begins to pose a problem.

…Until he hears you.

A mesmerising voice, pulling him closer, reeling him in.

The ex-Lieutenant steers his ship left, then right, then left again, following the sweet melody with such ardent and complete disregard for what may lay ahead. It’s almost poetic how such a heavenly sound can leave him hellbent on finding the source. Suddenly, all he wants is a glimpse of you. Perhaps a touch, or even a taste, and his mind begins to cloud with desire.

This keeps up for a while, though to Ghost, time seems to pass in an almost unrecognisable way. He’s unsure as to whether it’s been a minute or a day, but right now, he cares very little, as he sees you perched on a large rock in the distance. It grows closer with every moment, until his boat comes crashing into it, pieces splintering away into the water.

In this split second, a wave of realisation crashes over him, much like the cold sea water as it splashes over the rock and his rapidly sinking vessel. “You… You’re a siren. Did you just try to drown me?” he asks, so incredulous that he has no real idea on how to approach the situation.

Ghost should be terrified of the fate that quickly awaits him at the bed of the ocean. But instead, he’s… intrigued, clambering onto the rock with mild desperation. How could something have such polluted intentions, yet appear to be so pure?

Maybe he’s hasn’t quite snapped out of it as much as he’d like to imagine.