Ghost

[Carbine23]

Wow, this is excellent. I'll be reading this. I hope my story turns out as good as yours. Great job mate!

[Rhoda]

Thanks for the support Carbine! Nice to see a fresh face in here, not that I'm tiring of the regular ones!

[Carbine23]

Thanks for the support Carbine! Nice to see a fresh face in here, not that I'm tiring of the regular ones!

Well i've been in the writing community for over a month now, but i really haven't showed my face around here. I'm starting to show my face so people will read my stories and so i can be a part of the writing community. I usually hate reading in school, but i find forum stories interesting.

 

Good luck with your story Masterkraft

[Rhoda]

Thanks, same to you! I'm quite new in this section myself, only recently becoming a regular member. I hope Ghost becomes rather established, and that my future works go on to be just as successful as this one.

[Struff Bunstridge]

I thought you said you were having trouble writing? This is effortless, mate. Awesome.

Thanks for the kind words, Struff! Despite the flow of this chapter, it did take a long time to write and was probably the most challenging chapter for me to date. Not only did I have to take Ghost out of a familiar setting, but I wanted to incorporate some Catch In The Rye style monologues into my latest chapters too. Thanks again Struff, means a lot coming from you. I'll buy you a pint in London if you're coming.

Up f'r it

[mark-2007]

Another fantastic chapter. The best yet I'd say, I loved the mask talking to Ghost in italics. However, surely John is expecting money from the deal, yet Ghost gave the box to the trio for their cigarettes and for them not telling anybody about the murder.

[Oxidizer]

My word. That was exactly what I was in desperate need of. And I love Ghost's last words so far - .

 

I'm really liking how this is evolving, and I think that may have been one of my favorite chapters, way up there with Chapter IX.

 

When are you gonna write more? I need it like a heroin addict needs Smack.

[Oblivionz]

I read this chapter along to Don't Stop Me Now by Queen, and it made it seem even more demented because I could just see and hear Ghost singing this to himself one time.

f*ckin' amazing, bro

[Rhoda]

Foreword: (at the time of drafting this chapter) I do believe I've hit good writing conditions; I'm listening to The Warriors OST, I've got a large mug of sugar littered black coffee and I'm aching. This should be interesting...

 

 

Chapter XI - Like Hunting Bears

 

Ghost seemed to parade the mean streets of Sterling with a spring in his step, despite his weariness. At every opportunity, Ghost could hardly contain himself from scaling a nearby lamp post and breathing heavily as the fresh rain trickled lovingly down his blood stained fingertips.

Relish this, I doubt John will be as forgiving when he discovers your "payment".

Ghost slowly let go, easing down the pole just as graceful as the raindrops and licked his top lip, humming quietly to himself. While the deal did go awry, Ghost had left empty handed, bar half a packet of cigarettes which had grown evermore soggy in the steady but soft rain. As his hand met the packet, Ghost couldn't help but think he could look just like one of the famous movie star's of the 1950's, pacing the streets and smoking, searching for a lost love in a bar and looking suave even in the downpour. With a soft crackle, a small ember emerged barely an inch away from his index finger as he lit a relatively dry cigarette and Ghost slightly raised an eyebrow, just like the rudimentary father figure of television had taught him to in times of peril or concern.

 

The walk back to John's residence was long and treacherous. At every corner, Ghost would notice the presence of street lurkers, desperate for change and wouldn't accept a vulnerable, leather faced psycho. Even Ghost knew that, even though he felt urged to decimate each and every one before one word left their bitter mouths, which was no doubt polluted by rotting teeth and rancid breath. Thinking better of it, and glad to do so, Ghost quietly crept down alleyways, adding precious minutes on his journey. Fearful that his mask would soon override common sense and somehow convince him violence would make him feel better.

What's stopping you? You have potential. You know you do.

I don't trust you. Please stop. Just while I think straight.

You can't afford to think straight. You'll never know who anybody truly is until you look past them, and challenge everything! When you're doing things right, people hardly notice you're doing anything at all!

What's your perception of right and wrong, then?

 

The mask could think of nothing. Ghost beamed broadly in victory, and seemed to do so until he reached the familiar door of Long Gone John's ammunition stock house. With a cautious and even fearful knock, Ghost swallowed hard and thought back to when he used to do wrong at home.

"All the f*cking time..." Ghost murmured to himself, just before the door burst into life and swung open, revealing the large but welcoming frame of John.

"Ah, you're back!" John grinned.

Ghost swallowed again, he could literally see the enthusiasm in his eyes and the metaphorical image of his heart and his mind rubbing their hands together. However, Ghost wasn't the only one doing some soul searching.

"What's wrong, there? Something happened, didn't it?"

Ghost could no longer help it, he could feel tears building up behind his bloodshot eyes in disappointment and fear, before the interference.

Courage helps.

"We were f*cking robbed, John!" Ghost said, voice slightly raised, but traces of disappointment still lingering. "There was nothing we could do, your buyer met an unfortunate end at the hand of some armed teenagers."

John's face fell, and seemed to tighten in a mix of anger and shame that he hadn't seen this coming.

"And here I was, ignoring his calls."

"I'm sorry John. I'm sure I can find them if you let me, I'll make them pay for what they've done."

Ghost's voice raised once again, and he traced John's footsteps back to the desk where a shotgun lay casually.

"No, this isn't a case of solo work this time..."

Ghost's eyes quickly drank the shine of the barrel, and his heart sunk like a stone.

"What do you mean, John?"

John didn't answer straight away. Instead, he slowly lowered two hands onto the desk and his head hung, deep in thought. With a lurch, John stood bolt upright despite his size and took the shotgun with one hand.

"We'll catch those common catfightin' c*nts... show them what a bloated military store owner can do when he's swindled!"

Ghost felt no remorse, only relief that he had managed to potentially eliminate those who had shown disdain to his appearance and mentality. Slowly but surely, each knot was being untied and he would soon end up where all the abuse started. By then, he would truly be free to start again, a new life in Sterling with his hands washed of his disgusting past.

"You know how to handle a shotgun?" John asked hastily, bringing Ghost back to reality and barely giving him chance to respond. Soon enough, Ghost found himself armed with a glistening representation of beauty, capable of ending life itself.

"Keep the mask on kid, I'm joining you!"

In seconds, John had secured a gas mask on his own face, though his eyes were a lot less vivid than Ghost's.

"We've got some competition to eliminate, boy! You ready?"

There was a brief pause as Ghost slowly traced the gun with his eyes. With a sickening smirk, Ghost gave a wry nod, and John howled with enthusiasm as he ushered Ghost into his beaten pick up truck outside, which still looked like the best vehicle on the entire street. Ghost didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but still grinned wide as John's pick up truck roared to life.

 

***

 

The road was far from gentle on John's truck, causing both of the them to frequently jump in their seats as a bump was hit. Ghost was thankful when the truck finally came to a slow stop in Hotdog Heaven's car park, as this was the first chance he'd had in a while to once again gaze adoringly at this silver instrument in front of him. The only difference between the instrument in his hands and conventional instruments was the music he would be producing. Rather than gentle and soothing noodling melodies, he would be creating howling and disastrous vocals with a mere finger movement.

"Stay with me there..." whispered John, snapping his fingers in front of Ghost's face, the daydreaming more evident than first thought, "you say they're still here?"

"Yeah, they're here," Ghost replied through his teeth, loading his shotgun. "I know they're here."

"Then they've no idea of what we're bringin', and there's no amount of f*ckin' ketchup sachets they can give us to rectify!"

Ghost felt like firing a shell into the air, straight through the roof of John's truck but thought better of it. His mask seemed to agree too, preferring to contain his excitement for when he really needed it.

"Wait, look!" John's voice was raised, but just barely. A large finger quickly tapped the windscreen indicating a cluster of employees huddled around a solitary open door for warmth, evidently sharing a lighter. A grin wider than Ghost's started to creep across John's face.

"Fancy turning this into a game? Ready for a little chase?"

Ghost checked his shotgun was loaded once again and matched John's toothy smile. That was all John needed, and the two instantly darted out of the truck, hurtling toward the group. With a sickening snap, the neck of one of their targets recoiled as far it could humanely go as a shell relentlessly bore it's way into his temple. Ghost was the one to execute the first blow, unleashing a bloodcurdling laugh as he shot and ran, ensuring to fill the recently dead target with yet more shells. Like a dancer, John dodged bins and bags thrown by the remaining two targets. Ghost wasn't far behind, now holding his gun in one hand and running as fast he could carry himself.

"Just like hunting bears!" John yelled, his voice dampened by sharp and heavy breaths as he ran.

Ghost made no attempt to answer and tore past John, deep in pursuit of the two teenagers who had been caught extremely off guard and as a result, did not have much of a head start. John stopped running almost immediately, rooting himself to the cracked car park asphalt and planted a well aimed shell into the back of the teenager furthest behind. His body seemed to reject each and every one of his organs as a large hole was tore in the front of his chest, which then formed a cushion for him to land harshly on. John laughed heartily as he ran past his latest victim, paying no attention as his lifeless body fell onto his own organs as if a puppet had it's strings suddenly and viciously cut.

Meanwhile, Ghost hadn't felt more alive, wolf whistling at the remaining teenager who sobbed loudly. The tears seemed to grow more desperate as he leaped the barrier of the car park into a small but grassy enclosure. Naturally, Ghost followed, dropping his gun in favour of speed so he could gain the appraisal and approval of John with his bare hands. The remaining target simply fell to the ground in exhaustion, which couldn't begin to explain the desperation in his mind. There he was, lying in a patch of damp grass while a crazed killer hurtled toward him. All he could do in the meantime was lie there and hope his death was painless.

He hoped wrong.

With a grunt, Ghost delivered a kick to the ribs of the thief, sending him careering into a nearby tree with a thump. Coughing and crying deeply, Ghost approached slowly just as John emerged, slowly raising his shotgun up to the victim who lay beaten on the floor. Ghost delivered punch after punch to the abdomen of the victim, causing blood to spout from his mouth like a faulty water sprinkler. John seemed to bark encouragement as Ghost wore his knuckles to the bone executing blow after blow. It was only when Ghost's red raw hand collided with something hard and plastic. Giving the victim the rare chance to breathe, Ghost removed his hand to reveal a cracked and bloody name tag. Eyes quivering, Ghost recoiled in horror at what he had read.

 

Trent.

 

In a sudden move, Ghost threw his whole weight against the very tree he had kicked his only true friend into and vomited violently, pausing only to sob just as loudly as Trent did. John saw his window of opportunity and let loose a powerful shell at point blank range, turning Trent's face inside out in an explosion of crimson. Ghost did not dare to turn around and look at his friend, and instead dug his fingernails into the bark of the tree. After what seemed like days, he felt a large hand of John's firmly on his shoulder offering comfort and congratulations and before he knew it, Ghost was again in the pick up truck, being patronised by early morning radio.

[Oxidizer]

Massive apologies for not leaving feedback sooner, I got sidetracked and then slipped out of my reading mood.

 

What can I say? Wow. You've got some incredible descriptive phrases and terms that I wouldn't be able to concieve, and for that I'm envious of your obvious talent. Also, this latest chapter has inspired me further somewhat to get back into writing again, so thank you.

 

To say I'm impressed is an understatement - I'm a little at loss for words. I most definitely look forwad to the next installment!

[Rhoda]

Thanks very much Oxi, always means a lot coming from you. Thanks to all of you really, I can't stress it enough. Progress will be slow in the coming 2 weeks but I promise you you'll beg for more. I'll make it my mandate.

[mark-2007]

Amazing again, great twist too.

 

before one word left their bitter mouths, which was no doubt polluted by rotting teeth and rancid breath.

That was my favorite phrase. Excellent imagery there, and throughout really. Superb, I'm also looking forward to whatever is next in store for Ghost.

[Ronmar The Only]

Interesting. I haven't commented in quite some time on the story, but it seems to still be going strong. I hate to proofread, so I doubt I would ever pick up on grammatical errors, but I do enjoy a good story. This has, so far, been an interesting story. Edited June 18, 2008 by Ronmar The Only

[The Unvirginiser]

Excellent imagary, easily to play out in my mind, brilliant description, love how this is going! Keep up the good work you waster, do not neglect this masterpeice, you should be very proud!

[Rhoda]

Thanks man, and don't worry, I don't intend my efforts to be wasted. You'll all get a new chapter soon enough, don't fret. Hopefully it'll be enough to keep you as interested as you all are now.

[The Unvirginiser]

Wha-, what, whattttttttttttt?!?!?!

 

Page Two?!?!?!?!!

 

How dare you let this masterpiece slip! Don't want to crack the whip but you have a lot of fans waiting for the next instalment

[Rhoda]

Hey, me again, sorry progress has been slow but I've been rather busy. Here's chapter 12, and I apologise for the apparent lack of action. Feedback welcome, as always.

 

 

Chapter XII - Grievance Greets You Like A Former Friend

 

The death of his only friend understandably hit Ghost hard. At every thought of Trent gone, Ghost felt nothing but pressure on his ribcage and he often struggled to breathe, which was no easy feat through the constantly dry and harsh sobbing. For days, Ghost lay curled up in a ball in his room, emitting sickly growls until his voice grew hoarse. Gorm was polite and caring beyond comprehension, bringing food up for Ghost regularly which he would only eat in the early morning and taking small bites. Ever since he had killed his best friend, Ghost felt his life was devoid of meaning, but soon realized something thanks to the companion of his mask.

 

Avenge him. Whoever united me and you also killed your friend, you were not to know your target was Trent and neither was John. Find who was responsible and you will find vengeance.

 

Those words gave Ghost the comfort and solace he needed to eat once again, and over the next few days the sobbing grew less and less. With the noise from upstairs dwindling, Gorm decided to swallow his fear of Ghost and be the father figure he never had.

Ghost slowly ran his finger over a hole in his bed sheet, his harsh face finally dry of tears. Ghost had new drive and new motivation, almost as if the death of his friend had presented him with more endeavor than ever before. Without warning or detection, Gorm's hand met the door and Ghost flinched at the sound of the knock.

"Come in," Ghost uttered, his tone nonchalant.

Gorm was cautious, and seemed to inch around the door keeping as far away from Ghost as he could like a lion tamer.

"How are you doing, son?" Gorm asked, just as quiet as Ghost was.

"Better, I think. I have to realise his death was no-one's fault..."

Gorm simply sat on the bed next to him, nodding his head solemnly.

"I remember Trent, funnily enough..." Gorm reminisced, trying to offer comfort, "I remember you and him climbing trees near that pond in the overgrowth, and playing fetch with Max."

Ghost started to feel awkward and nauseous, and suddenly remembered the dog lead which had inspired him to visit Gorm in the first place. Oddly enough, Ghost had not seen Max since he had lived in the chemical plant.

"Where is...?" Ghost began, but trailed off, almost ruing the fact he'd mentioned it in the first place.

Gorm stood up and approached the window, hands behind his back. With a sigh, he placed one hand on the window sill, prompting Ghost to have a look at what had upset him. As soon as Ghost saw the source however, again, he had wished he hadn't; stood alone in the garden was a small crudely made cross, hanging limply in the soil. A relatively fresh mound of earth stood inches away. Ghost placed a hand on Gorm's shoulder, unsure of what to say and Gorm simply made an appreciative noise.

"Thanks", Gorm muttered finally. "I never told you what happened."

Ghost sat down, his current sadness almost disappearing completely as he listened intently.

"Max was run over, not long before you arrived. I was with John making a delivery and... we accidentally hit him with the truck."

Ghost didn't make a sound, but simply gulped.

"I wasn't too overjoyed, as you can imagine..." Gorm said with a weak smile, "but I realised there was nothing that could've been done to stop it, and it was an accident. John was more upset than me, I think."

Ghost gave a small smile back, remembering how Max would chew on random assortments of wood and bark in the dense overgrowth where he used to live. For hours, Ghost would gaze out of one of the many cracked windows in the plant and crave the freedom Max had. Now it seemed Max had the most freedom than anyone.

For a brief moment, the two sat there in silence, each now with their own examples of accidental death. Ghost felt slightly more eased by the knowledge he was not the only one to have lost someone close to him, and what's more, he wasn't the only one to have caused such a tragedy. Gorm's comforting voice soon broke the silence.

"Are you coming down for a drink? See if we can Irish up some coffee?"

Ghost gave a brisk nod, feeling rejuvenated, and now he felt inspired by Trent's death rather than saddened. Inspired to put the world right. Inspired to bring the person down who was the result of his friend's death as well as his disfigurement. With that, Ghost tread carefully down the staircase, legs weak after days of refusing to walk and joined Gorm at the table for a well deserved drink and a healthy conversation.

 

***

 

Several hours had passed since Ghost emerged from his sanctum and after several alcoholic beverages, both him and Gorm were relaying old stories and jokes, laughing at random intervals. Ghost regularly felt the need to demonstrate his telekinesis, sending small objects floating skyward. Gorm took great interest, laughing heartily like a small child at the circus. Just as Ghost set a flower made of out of cutlery down, Gorm wiped a tear from his eyes and tapped the book that he had given Ghost weeks previously.

"You know Ghost... that book there? That sh*tty little leatherbound book?"

Ghost nodded, polishing off his glass with his finger.

"Well that, my masked friend, holds secrets I daren't tell the world..."

Ghost set his glass down and leaned in to listen, almost as if his excessive drinking had restricted his hearing. Gorm carried on, his tone growing lower and lower.

"One day, when you're sober and you're brimming with enthusiasm and concentration, one day you must look at it's pages and learn."

Ghost took a quick glimpse at the battered book, thumbing through the pages clumsily, prompting Gorm to pick up their glasses and head into the kitchen. His voice rang out, though rather slurred.

"Like I said, read it when you're sober... your head'll fall off."

Ghost let out a mocking scream and held his head on his neck, leaving the book suspended in mid-air. Gorm came back into the living room and stifled a yawn.

"I'm retiring for the night I think, it'd do you good to do the same."

Ghost nodded and yawned himself, still feeling rather drunk from his night of conversation and jokes and lay down on the sofa as soon as Gorm said his goodnight. Within seconds of his head hitting the pillow, Ghost clutched the book in his palms and a smile flickered on his face before drifting off to sleep.

[Oblivionz]

Awesome chapter, Craig.

I'm beginning to wonder more about the secrets and past of Gorm.

[Oxidizer]

Can't believe it took me so long to realise you had updated this.

 

Gotta agree with the e-son on this one - that was awesome. And I too look forward to moar!

[Rhoda]

Thanks guys, next chapter's well under way and I make it my mandate to produce the most horrific chapter so far. It'll be a monster too, so be warned.

[The Unvirginiser]

Thanks guys, next chapter's well under way and I make it my mandate to produce the most horrific chapter so far. It'll be a monster too, so be warned.

You cliff hanging bastard!

Will this be the only story in the ghost universe?

[Rhoda]

I hope my next story takes place in the Ghost universe, I can't see any reason why not.

[Oblivionz]

I hope my next story takes place in the Ghost universe, I can't see any reason why not.

Unless you nuke it, you bastard.

[The Unvirginiser]

I hope my next story takes place in the Ghost universe, I can't see any reason why not.

Unless you nuke it, you bastard.

I know yeah, you f*ckin' dick!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Struff Bunstridge]

This is no less than epic. It's incredible how you've set the standard high and just kept upping it. Props, dude.

[mark-2007]

Another great chapter. Can't wait for your next, it sounds amazing.

[Rhoda]

And such is the pressure! I'm just afraid the ending or the inciting incidents fail to deliver, but I will do my utmost best. Expect a chapter (or two maybe) over the weekend.

[The Unvirginiser]

And such is the pressure! I'm just afraid the ending or the inciting incidents fail to deliver, but I will do my utmost best. Expect a chapter (or two maybe) over the weekend.

Craig I'll jog down to yours and stab you up!

 

Seriously take your time

[Rhoda]

For this chapter, I tried a little "method writing". I wrote this entire segment wearing my Leatherface mask, which is tight in places and very irritating. I was also incredibly thirsty and craving a cigarette, which I feel gave this chapter a more raw and aggressive feel. You tell me. I'd also like to point out this chapter isn't as long as I thought it would be, but that doesn't really matter. Size isn't everything.

 

 

Chapter XIII - Ghost Grows A Spine

 

Change is gradual. Even Ghost understood some moral backbones. While he knew change was imminent and for the greater good, he could not act until his time was right. Ghost now lacked inhibitions, and felt freshly motivated by the brutal death of Trent, yet he could do nothing until the window of opportunity revealed itself. Instead, Ghost had kindly offered to move stock for Long Gone John, who had hurt his back taking on more than he could handle. John had a delivery expected, so it was Ghost's job to load up a pick up truck full of boxes. Not one sound was uttered from Ghost, his mind deep in thought regarding all that had happened and the task at hand. It was when Ghost was around halfway through his work that John finally spoke up.

"Gorm told me about your incident..." John seemed to shuffle uncomfortably in his chair, almost afraid of Ghost's reaction.

Ghost said nothing.

"I should really say incidents... he told about your face."

Ghost exhaled deeply, and gently lowered his head as he gripped the shelves of boxes in front of him. Tightening his hold, Ghost allowed his whole body to grow rigid.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have s-said anything," John quickly tried to retrace his words but the damage seemed to be done. Ghost remained silent, and only spoke when his knuckles turned an unhealthy shade of white.

"No need to apologise, you never knew about my mask... not properly anyway. I assumed you thought I was just a c*nt with an obsession for leather, eh?"

Ghost gave a small smile, almost reminiscent of Gorm's and John smiled back, again trying to get comfortable on his terribly aging office chair.

"I'm going to find who did this to me," Ghost went on. "Granted, I may have found a life I enjoy living through my accident but I will thank them one hand after another around their throats... what I'd do to find them and watch the colour drain from their faces..."

John cleared his throat awkwardly as Ghost seemed to practice his demonstration on a stress doll that perched on the edge of John's rudimentary desk. With a sniff, Ghost let the stress doll go and cracked his fingers.

"Sorry."

John waved a large hand as if to dismiss Ghost's random outburst of brief rage and beckoned him over. As if from nowhere, John revealed 6 tins of strong cider and gingerly slammed them on the table.

"Fancy a drink? You look like you need one!"

Ghost simply smiled and thanked John as he sat on the very box he was about to move. With a harsh crack, both tins were open and were being consumed as the two of them simply listened to the radio.

"John, can I ask you something?" Ghost asked quietly, playing with the ring pull of his already half empty can.

"Sure kid, what's on your mind?"

Ghost flicked the ring pull a few more times, content with the sound it made before answering.

"The other night, Gorm gave me a book... leatherbound thing, looks quite beaten. You don't know what's in it do you?"

For once, John looked about as bizzare as Ghost did, and that was without the mask. Ghost could clearly see this book was news to John, and decided not to go any further with it.

"This one going outside then, John?" Ghost said, setting down his can.

John had little time to answer, as the sound of glass shattering echoed around the stock room. Ghost shut his eyes for only a fraction of a second, just enough time for him to realise what has happening.

They were being robbed.

Ghost blinked once again, transforming his eye colour from grey to red. John let out a quiet sound of disbelief as Ghost leant over his desk gingerly.

"Back in a minute."

Without any reply, Ghost turned on his heels and seemed to gallop to the door, using his arms to keep him upright. The engine of John's truck roared to life and had left the pavement fast.

Time for action, Ghost. Put that f*cking siren on.

Ghost let out a piercing scream, similar to that of a gorilla protecting it's young and immediately took off down the street after the truck... on foot.

You're never going to catch them. Slow slow slow.

"Shut up"" Ghost yelled at his own mask before running decidedly faster than average traffic. As the truck tore through lights and weaved through traffic queues, Ghost simply jumped whole cars at a time, landing with a crack on the asphalt in front. Leaping through the air like a flea, Ghost gripped a lamppost. With a grunt, he was soon vaulting off every lamppost in range hoping to gain the advantage of speed over the thieves.

Good thinking, but what's that I see? A challenge! Goody!

Ghost did well to pay attention to his mask for once as he immediately spotted a lone gunmen who had now climbed out of the truck. Stood awkwardly on the roof, the shootist didn't seem to know what he was aiming at, so instead opened random fire on an unrecognizable man leaping through the air towards them. The desperation was clearly visible in the man's face, who seemed to feel outmatched despite him having a powerful gun in his possession. With a loud and high pitched laugh, Ghost gave himself one final push off a telephone pole and landed with a thud barely 2 feet away from the shootist, who was now in absolute disbelief.

Brain him.

Ghost delivered a jawbreaking punch to the throat of the bewildered thief, who began to gurgle and moan with pain beyond comprehension. Relishing his now moist hand, Ghost gave a wry grin as he cracked the man's spine from the inside. With a swift movement, Ghost ripped the man's spine clean out of his throat, sending nerve endings and blood everywhere like a horrific volcano eruption. The man fell lifeless off the truck and each limb seemed to splinter on impact. Ghost had just enough time to admire his work before the truck driver realised just what had happened. In sheer panic, the driver swerved straight into oncoming traffic hoping to scare the crazed attacker perched on his roof. Ghost found little trouble making his way to the passenger side window, still clutching a trophy from his latest victim.

"Surprise!" Ghost yelled, voice cracked and shaken through excitement.

The remaining thief had little time to react and before he had changed lanes, Ghost was making his way through the truck towards the driver. With a swift kick, Ghost brought his foot down on top of the driver's, instantly crushing it with a satisfying snap. Ghost then straddled the driver, wrapping the spine around his neck and gripping with intensity. The driver's face grew as blue as Ghost's knuckles as the traffic on the roads desperately avoided the truck, which was still helplessly hurtling down the road. The driver's body twitched, much to the satisfaction of Ghost and before long, the man bound by the spine grew limp.

"Night!" Ghost whispered in the man's ear, almost like a mother would to her young son after reading a pleasant story, filled with morals.

With a grunt, Ghost quickly got off the man's lap and delivered a powerful shove to his ribs, sending him and the truck door flying down the road. Ghost had no time to watch, so instead he listened intently to the sounds of metal tarnishing flesh. With a frighteningly fast 180 degree turn, Ghost took control of the truck, hardly losing any speed in the process. With the truck recovered, Ghost smiled once again and noticed a wallet on the dashboard. Ghost took one hand off the wheel and briskly opened it. As soon as Ghost's eyes met the contents, his toothy grin grew wider if that was even possible and slowly tucked the wallet into his pocket, ready to show John.

[Blackadder.]

Ah, great chapter, can't wait for the next.