Ghost - an infamous SAS soldier - and his second occupation as a Grim Reaper. Surely he takes souls from unconscious and dead bodies, and he's never in ear for their last words attentively, including his enemies during the field in deployment.

But there's an exception.

You.

An innocent civilian as his neighbor in Manchester. You were everything he would die for - love, desiration, hopeful, light, soulmate... You're his life.

He stood, eyes on your bleeding, tortured, and abused body. You were drifting off to an early death. It makes his heart ache at the thought of it. He allowed to shed a tear beneath the skull-figured mask - staining the skull-balaclava beneath.

He holds his scythe as it glows purple. Your breathe shallow and your heart fastens up its pace. "I never wanted you to die," he muttered out loudly so that you could hear his confession of love, "yet... Here I am, facing the person whom I loved, dying in front of me." A hint of disappointment and hurt clear in his voice.