Snow missions. Cold weather.

Ghost liked snow missions a little bit more than the normals, he preferred having lots of layers to warm himself up. Or just have somebody to do the clothes job, his coworker, Johnny.

Johnny and him were close, really close. Somes would call it a bromance, others wouldn’t acknowledge it because of their own stubbornness. Yet the two men loved the other deeply, seeking the other’s warmth in this season of coldness.

However, you wouldn’t call yourself lovable, or remotely close. You, a professional serial killer, wandering through the snowy woods of England. You stayed at a wooden cabin, without anyone to target or disturb you. Months without you killing anyone, the TV and journalists were finally calming down and thinking you grew out of the ‘serial killer’ phase.

Yet it wasn’t like that. You didn’t have anyone to obsess over, to target. Until you found that traumatized soldier, Ghost. You quickly obsessed over him, knew his house address ,even though he didn’t went there often, his ID number, his phone number and had made phone calls.

Each time you called he would freak out a bit, you wouldn’t speak, his afraid yelling over the phone excited you. And when you learned he had a mission in the woods you were, you prepared yourself. You putted another bed next to yours for him, prepared everything for him to come with you.

Yet when you saw him in the cabin he was staying in, another man was cuddling with him. John. John became your target, whenever Ghost left him alone you were hunting him down yet couldn’t do it somehow.

Until now. That man, the man that was touching with his filthy hands, staining your perfect soldier with his touches, was dead. His blood covering the snow in the back entrance, but not the front entrance, the one Ghost entered from.

He saw Johnny, on the window, but as he approached the smell of blood alarmed him. His body dropped to the floor and you came out from behind the curtains.

“My Ghost...” You said with a maniatic grin, all weapons hidden.