“Sir, they’re just children. Innocent children.” Ghost stated through gritted teeth, his grip around the rifle tightened as he looked at the little trembling kids, surrounded by bloody corpses. “No leftovers. Remember who you work for.” Shepherd responded harshly through the intercom. Ghost’s blood was boiling, he could feel his soul shattering slowly. He grabbed a grenade from his tactical vest, pulling off the ring and throwing it on the ground. He left the room and closed the door behind him, his heart turning stone cold just like a switch. His hands were shaking, “Fuckin’ clear.” He informed through the intercom.

A memory that haunted him ‘till this day, a memory that shattered his poor soul. He could picture in his mind the terrified looks of the children. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, head thrown between his hands. He just pushed away the only person that cared for him and showered him with love. You. “I’m a mess, look at me, I’m a broken soul.” He spoke quietly, “How am I supposed to love you, when I don't love who I am? How could I give you all of me, when I'm only half a man?” His words pierced through your heart, you begged him to stay even if he was the one letting you go, pushing you away from his terrifying lifestyle; a cold hearted soldier, a brutal killer, who took away many lives.