Chapter Text
The laughter was enough to get a smile on your features, finger’s flinging your bag into the one spot they had open for you. It was a boring little place, a shack inside of a hut covered in guns, men, and tech that you wanted to roll your eyes at.
“You’re a fucking oxygen thief ya know that.” The deep voice had you shaking your head, Darren Vuk, the wolf of your unit was shoving his elbow against the Gunner, Caleb King, the greenie, the one who was an oxygen thief most days.
“Play nice boys.” Your voice didn’t have to be loud, the other 3 of the 6 person group didn’t say much, just watched you unpack what little things you had. Ghosts weren’t supposed to have a lot of stuff anyway.
“Hey Dhampir , how the helo r-“ The shocks came next, the bangs and smoke that filled your field of vision. You ducked, your training kicking in well before your brain could figure out what was going on. You crawled under the bed, your hearing was fucked anyway, everything shook, the ground, your breathing, your body. You felt something, a hand maybe, your body was curled up so tightly that you were not sure what it was.
Then the pulling came, the grip was so strong that they yanked and yanked almost pulling you completely out from under the bed. You were pretty sure you were screaming, screaming, and kicking your body attempting to fight off whoever it was.
“Found the “
You woke up gasping, and the only voice that was in your head was- Caleb. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, a quick movement of fingers against your face flicking your hair back to keep the strays out of your eyes.
Time is never kind, you knew this, but that was the last word you ever heard Caleb speak, the last sentence he ever uttered. You almost wanted to cry, thinking that those emotions had been beaten out of you long ago, but you got up. The small bed in the corner opposite the kitchen, the table cluttered with stuff, work things, guns, and paperwork.
You long ago had stopped keeping up the military’s clean habits, after all, you didn’t exist. Your fingertips rubbed together, missing the slight feeling of the swirls and marks that made you real, that made you human. Maybe it was the dream that had you feeling sentimental, but you knew that you needed to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about all that made you human.
Your fingers did the quick work of making coffee, and getting something to eat, even as you did so, you moved to the table, fingers picking up little bits of paper, staring at them before turning to the wall.
The one place in your house that you could say was your own, your blood sweat, and tears poured into this one section. It went everywhere with you, even if you had to pack it up in pieces.
You walked up to the first photo, the one of Darren, dark hair, blue eyes, and a smile that lit up the whole photograph, you even wanted to smile at it, as if it could help the mood you woke up in. It was grayed out, and the one next to it was too, they all were, but besides the first one, the rest were blank, dark, with no face just code names. They only existed now in her mind, what she can remember anyway. That was the worst part, Darren was recognized, and that’s how they were found.
Ghosts were supposed to be invisible. Photos, DNA, Cellphones untraceable.
One picture fucked it all up. Someone leaked it. The photos on the wall were what you had, all the intel and tickets you cashed in along the way, it was all there, ready to be pieced together, slowly maybe, it had taken you months to get one name, a name, and no photo.
Roger Tavish
You were sure it was fake, another name in a long list that would lead to a dead end. However, you knew, you had a feeling at some point whoever it was would be cocky enough to make a mistake, one that would land you payload extra teeth and some blood.
Your finger moved down the list, blank photo after blank photo with names under all of them, some are black, some were read, and others are a blue color. All a code you had made for yourself, to make sure you never left anything untouched, no lead left to rot.
So far you had fucking nothing and that was what lead you here, to this fucked up apartment in the middle of a city you couldn’t name because you swore you would never have come without your people, your family. So you were waiting for your contact, the one who swore if you came they would give you all the information that you needed to finally put all the shit in your head to rest.
The dingy apartment started to smell like coffee, a sign that at least that was one thing going for you in your life.
Bare feet once more padded across the flooring into the kitchen, you picked up a coffee cup from yesterday, looking down at it before shrugging to yourself, grabbing the coffee pot, and pouring the liquid in it. The bag of sugar was pulled out, and you simply poured the sugar into the bag, a quick swirl of your finger in the liquid to get it mixed before you walked over to the table. The coffee cup was set down on a pile of paperwork, enough so that if you started to dig through the pile of stuff on the table you wouldn’t knock it down.
“What a fucking shit show.” You spoke out loud to yourself, the silence was enough to make you start going crazy, crazy enough to start talking to yourself. You found what you were looking for, a heavy laptop that was sitting in the middle of the table. The thing was thick enough and heavy enough to kill someone, you tried it once, and there was a mark on the side of it that showed the blood still dried to it.
It was a quick start-up, fingerprint, password, and eye scan later and you were staring at the black screen the little green cursor making you want to strangle the person on the other side, no new message was like shooting in the dark and hoping for light. You frowned, bringing up the coffee cup to take a drink now, only your eyes never left the screen, waiting for something to happen anything.
It seemed like hours, maybe it wasn’t that long before a message appeared. Letters, numbers, and symbols were scrawled across the screen as if wanting to make you decipher what it was going to say.
Glutton: looking to play a game?
You wanted to claw your eyes out seeing the message but you wanted to play nice, you had to get the information even if it meant being nice.
Reaper: what’s your favorite scary movie?
It seemed like forever as the green cursor blinked in front of you, then it started to appear, the words you desperately needed. You felt a hand on your shoulder, a whisper of something against your ear before the message appeared.
Glutton: so glad you could join me dhampir, didn’t realize I could have someone as unique as you need someone like me.
Reaper: a low life like you should be in jail and I can make that happen with a press of a button.
Glutton: talk dirty to me you know I like it.
You smirked at the screen, setting the coffee cup down next to your laptop as another message appeared.
Glutton: meet at this little place I like, you know the one. High Seas bitches.
Another groan escaped through our lips hating the suggestion, the place was a sess pit of the lowest, though that did include you at this very fucking moment. You also needed him, you needed the information and the resources that he could get you. They did not call him The Glutton King for no reason.
Reaper: only if you wear that little maid outfit I like.
Glutton: only for you
That was it, time set and everything was ready to go. The screen went black, no more green, and a timer was slowly ticking like a bomb.
Bombs were never your specialty.
Blood was yours.
You stared at the only window in the place, so small it was like an afterthought, it was better that way, less of a sight into the room. You could control what they saw if someone was looking through it. You still had some tricks up your sleeve.
“Time to bring out the toys.” You glanced at the wall, staring at the wall, looking at the black photos of the men that should have been with you, been around. Instead what you found looking back at you was a void.
“Fuck.” You pushed the chair back from the table, moving to the other side of the small place, the creaks and hallows were starting to fill the sounds of people screaming outside. The day was just beginning and you were not sure if you could survive until it was time to meet up with your contact but you sure shit could get ready for it.
The noise was going to get to him before the loud talking of the men in the room would. He liked his silence, maybe a little rapport with the ones he liked out of this rag-tag group of fuck wits but that was beside the point. Everything they did echo in the warehouse and it smelled like they had been living in it for weeks.
Which they had of course lived in it for weeks but that was beside the point.
The laughter was enough to make him want to throw a live grenade at all of them. He knew of one person that would probably frown upon that, that one person was the only one he cared about at this moment, so he was going to play nice.
By ignoring them.
Which was working about as well as a drug addict standing in front of a pile of their favorite vice.
The rickety table was covered in files, empty ones at that, and pieces of paper that meant fucking nothing to him nor anyone in this building. All it was was a bunch of fucking dead-end leads that gave him nothing but a name and an empty void.
People had died, good people, people he knew. He didn’t want any of this sitting for as long as it had been but what else could he do with the steaming pile of shit that was in front of him. The chair creaked as he leaned back in it, thinking for a moment, a silent mumble was sent to the people that died, whoever they believed in he hoped they were in good hands and not drowning in sin as some people believed.
He didn’t believe in anything. What's a god to a non-believer, god had certainly given him enough time to become one.
He sighed, picking up the folder and looking through it with a boring sort of interest in his eyes. The chair came down to the ground with a soft thud, enough so that it for a singular moment masked the sound of the men laughing behind him.
Then again he was always good at having selective hearing.
Staring down at the packet he frowned to himself. No photo, a code name, and the last known location were all he had seen on the back of his eyelids every time he went to bed and every time he woke up. It was ingrained in him at this point, he knew it forwards and backward but he knew something was going to pop up, something in the sort little paragraph of words would click and he’d know.
“Stop staring at it y’u’r gonna set the damn thing on fire.” The heavy footfalls are what alerted him to the one person he wouldn’t drop a live grenade upon. John ‘Soap’ fucking MacTavish.
“Fucking Hell, you wan’ spend tonight botherin’ me?” He spoke, though the deep tenor of his voice was muffled by the mask he wore. He always wore it, and much to the other’s dismay, it wouldn’t come off, everyone knew it after a few fingers had to be chopped off to make sure others knew.
“Fuck yea’ y’u woulda sat here pissing all ‘lone if I hadn’t come over.” Soap sat down, the sides of his head freshly shaved and the beard was starting to grow in, much to his dismay, he hated the damn thing but his, person, could do whatever he wanted.
“Cunt.” Was the only thing he mumbled before looking back to the folder in his hands, he felt the other’s eyes on him, those grey beauties that seemed to get everyone until he opened his mouth. Wasn’t his fault his accent was terrible at times. Especially when he was mad.
“Ain’t gonna find a damn thing in there that we do’t already know.” He glanced to the side, eyes meeting Soaps before he shrugged. They needed something new, something to latch onto all this sitting around was making him antsy.
“Suck fucking balls to be hun’in another ghost tho aye.” Soaps accent started to slip, which made him smile, under the mask he could do what he wanted, if he had it off it would have been a different story.
“Ghosts can be bad people too Soap.” He spoke, fingers picking up the photo with a huff through the mask. Blank. A void of fucking nothing that stared back at him.
“Heard the reason they are called dhampir is that they drink blood.” He heard the other man come up, as quiet as everyone tends to be around him, he could still hear others. Spidey sense Soap called it. It was training and he was damn good at making sure he kept that particular skill sharp.
“Fuck off, no it’s not.” Soap replied, wrists crossing over the back of the chair as he glanced at him and the kid, Davis, Drew, Alvin, who the fuck knew what his name was. It was just a small crew of halfwits. Greenies.
“Buddy of mine served with them, he wouldn’t give me much information though. Told me it was the scariest shit he had ever seen in his life.” He moved, looking back at the person with a slight fire in his eyes.
“Ghost…” Soap's voice hit him in the side of the face, enough that he made a glance in his peripheral vision before looking back at the greenie.
“Tell me the name.” If it was a clue, anything that could lead him to the person that was killing those around him and his team, he was all for it.
“He died… sir..” Greenie glanced at Soap looking for a line, a life rafter to help save him from the intense stare Ghost was giving him at the moment. Just like that, another little piece of red string slipped through his fingers like falling sand.
“Though he did say that the person liked a bar, High Seas or Mermaids Castle something like that I can’t remember. It was a tiddy bar on some island. They talked about it with their partner, the one that ya know..” Ghost turned, grasping at the fold and throwing it at Soap with a frown under his mask. How could someone miss something like fucking this? This Is what happened when you let some idiot do the leg work.
“Ghost we don’t know-!”
“Shut it fucking Tavish. I want the name of the bar now!” It was his job to track down this person and he was going to do it, others were impeding his job and he didn’t fucking like it. “I want the location now! As soon as we get word we fly out and do the fucking leg work in finding this fucking person. Dead by morning.” His team was going to see action, even if it meant jumping on the first cargo flight out. He wanted to settle this once and for all.
“Ah, Ghost! Aye fuckwit!” Soap’s voice caught him stalling, his phone was in his hand, staring at a black screen that made Ghost’s inside twist a little and anticipation bubble up in his gut.
He could see the words across the screen.
Parris: Dhampir’s Location Coordinates : xxx-xxx-xxx
Look for red.
The words flashed in his mind like a homing beacon.
“Suit boy fuckwits.” Soap’s voice carried through the warehouse that was set up on their base. “Looks like we are going to a tiddy bar in the islands aye!” Though Soap was all smiles, he and Ghost’s eyes connected and they spoke a thousand words only time and working together could achieve. Something was wrong. No one would give out a location for nothing, so either this was a setup or something else was about to go down.
Bring the big guns.
That was what the look said, at least the latter part of the look. To which Ghost nodded, pulling on his vest a little too alive some of the pressure that was now on his chest. He hated the guys around him but he didn’t want to lose them. Especially not to someone that was said to drink the blood of those they killed. Sounded fucking comical to Ghost, then again he had heard weirder shit from the rumor mill.
The music style wasn’t one you liked, the sound of the heavy bass booming through your bones and the concrete of the building was going to drive you insane.
It was what it was though, you had to do this.
Bodies packed tightly against each other as they moved around, dancing to the music as the lights reflected off of everyone. Everyone that was there wore a mask of some kind, most of the skulls other’s just half-faced masks with red lipstick.
That was the theme, red.
Glutton seemed to love fucking up your world with the references to red.
You moved to the music, your body starting to pick up the beat as you grabbed someone random to dance with. You had to play this game with Glutton, this dance of something to make him feel all-powerful. You had done it once before, before…
You shook your head, the strands of red glowing with the lights dancing across it in some ploy to get people dazed and confused. You however knew the existence and knew exactly where Glutton would come from. So you closed your eyes, the wig itched but it was enough to shut out, the smell of bodies too enough to focus out of. The sound was deafening so you couldn’t use that, so you used to touch, felt the way everything around you seemed to float and glide. The way the bodies almost seemed to now work into one singular movement a flow to it that had you succumbing to it with a smile on your face. After all, this was a place you didn’t have to be on guard, everyone here was seeding and underworld alike. No one would recognize you here if they knew what you looked like.
Another pair of hands grabbed you, pulling you against a hard chest that you tensed up. The reaction was something you had ingrained in you, like another sense that whatever was about to happen wasn’t a good one.
Then you smelled it, leather, moss and something smoky invaded your senses. Your body relaxed, enough to fool anyone that you had calmed down and kept dancing. Moving to the beat of the song that had changed a couple of times since you had come in, the drink cup in your hand was gone, spilled all over the already sticky flooring.
“I knew you would look good in red.” The voice was sickly sweet against your ear, although you wanted to react you simply leaned your head away from his voice and kept dancing. At least until the song changed then you could get down to business. Glutton was fine waiting for you though, the cat-and-mouse game you two played was enough for him.
You never actually fucked him, never did anything but promise him thing’s later on down the road and so far he never cashed in on them. Not until tonight with the request. Red. Decked out in a vampire blood-like red outfit complete with fangs. You didn’t dawn the contacts he always enjoyed, those stupid twilight red contacts, that were too far for you but the dress and wig alone were enough to fool anyone who might have your picture to not notice it was you.
The song ended, changing to something a little more upbeat so that you were not down to jump up and down within your heels and Glutton was already pulling away from you. Business time.
You didn’t need to say anything to each other, you grabbed his hand, and he lead you away toward a dark corner. It was dark enough so that if someone happened to be looking over there, they wouldn’t see you two not unless someone was looking for you guys.
“Looking ravishing as always Dhampir.” Glutton's voice was smoky just like the cologne he wore. Though he was dressed in black his mask was red, enough that it made you uneasy, why tonight was he branching out? He normally just stuck to black, or neutral colors, such as a glutton. He was taller than you, 6’9” or so you never measured but you still had to look up some at him. Blue eyes shined through the mask and they almost seemed backlit in this little corner.
“Glutton. Not wearing the maid outfit I see.” You crossed your arms over your chest, taking a small step away from him as you spoke. His eyes watched you with fascination before they flickered off, like something in his brain told you business Glutton was here and not the one that flirted with you.
“You wanted the information on Roger Tavish right?” There was a hardness to his voice that got you glancing around. That name was enough to make you crawl out of your skin. If this turned into another dead end you were likely to kill someone tonight.
“No Glutton I dress up as a fucking slutty ass vampire for shits and giggles.” You stared at each other for a long while, it seemed like an hour went by before Glutton smiled, that flirting nature back in his gaze as he licked across his bottom lip. If Glutton never opened his mouth you might be willing to fuck him.
“Don’t have to get nasty with me darling. I’d happily let you drink my blood for free.” You suppressed an eye-roll, glancing over towards the bar. The man that caught your eye was tall, wearing all black but there was something more casual about it, he seemed bulky and off at the same time. His mask was a full face mask with a skull across it but his eyes were bright, like a pool of whiskey against the black that seemed to cover his skin. A shiver went down your spine before you ripped your eyes away from him, glancing back at Glutton who simply smiled down at you like the creeper he was.
“Cut the shit.” Your words clicked something in Glutton's brain again, everything going back to business while he leaned against the wall, no doubt less sticky than the flooring on the dance floor was.
“Dead end.” The words you were dreading to hear bubbled up and made you want to scream. “However, another name came up in the search. Graves was the only thing I could find. That and a Soap MacTavish. Though I doubt that name is going to do anything for you.” Glutton watched you closely, the first one meant nothing to you, the second one though. The second one you remember Darren speaking to you about.
He was particular about the people he admired and those he didn’t. John Soap MacTavish was someone he admired and hated at the same time. He worked closely with another unit, the ghost unit. Someone that worked in at original unit was named Ghost. Darren did say he wore a mask but you always blocked it out, after all, what did it matter, you never met any other ghost units.
Apparently, that was wrong.
“Know him little Dhampir?” Glutton brought you back away from the daydream that was threatening to bring you down. Your fingers itched towards the knife at your thigh before you glanced back towards the bar. This time the man was there, but he was staring at you, then his gaze shifted toward Glutton as if he was trying to figure out something.
Hairs rose on the back of your neck.
Something was wrong.
“Yeah, I remember the name Soap. Graves means jack shit to me.” You spoke slowly, moving your way toward Glutton like you wanted to rip his shirt off and make out with him. Glutton to your approval didn’t move much, just stayed there looking down at you like he was wondering if he wanted to eat you up or kill you.
That seemed a normal feeling for him.
“And what exactly are you doing right now? I was joking when I said you could suck my blood if you wanted too. I need that shit right where it is right now.” The joke was enough to make you laugh glancing down before looking back up at Glutton.
“Relax I am not trying to get this information for free.”
“You already paid the price doll.” Which was right, the red was enough for you. You hated having to wear it. It reminded you that maybe you were covered in blood, the sticky feeling on your hands ghosted over your whole body before you shook your hair, glancing another peak at the man at the bar who was staring harder into the little dark corner for both of you.
“Did you tell anyone about this fucking meeting?” You seethed the words out as your hand fell up on Glutton’s belt buckle. Although his name might have meant he was a larger man, he was all muscle with no gut that made you want to figure out why he called himself Glutton but there was a reason you never asked and he never asked why they called you Dhampir.
“Never, you know my privacy and especially yours is important to me.” The words seemed to tumble out of his mouth like venom as he started to glance around, obviously which made you want to hit him. He never was one for waiting and being coy.
A knife, you saw the flash of it embed itself into the wall next to your head, though it was between you and Glutton so it was hard to tell who the fuck it was being aimed at. You started to notice the fog slipping over your heels, the cold of it making you shiver a little as you glanced back towards the bar, you mocked wide eyes, scared girl as the man in the skull mask stood there.
“Seems like we have some party guests that shouldn’t have been here darling.” Glutton moved before you even had time too. Your eyes left the person in the skull mask turning to the spot Glutton was, he was now making his way towards a back room, the hallway was dim but if that was the only way out instead of being trapped in a room full of screaming people and bass thudding music you were taking it.
So you moved, throwing your body into the hallway and running down it as fast as the impractical heels would take you. Honestly, you knew you shouldn’t have worn them but it was a part of the outfit so you had to. You felt like your ears were muffled going from so much noise down to nothing it was like a switch being flipped off. You still moved though, pushing your body to move faster. The hallway at first didn’t seem that long but Glutton was maybe 20 steps in front of you, opening a door as quickly as he could to get away.
Hands gripped your waist, pulling you back against a solid wall of muscle, you struggled to scream, flailing your arms around a little bit as someone clamped down against your mouth smearing your lipstick across your face.
“Shh. We are after him, not you. You don’t have to worry fucking hell stop trying to claw me.” The voice made you stop. It was the first thing you could hear clearly, besides now your breathing and the smell of him were invading your senses. You took inventory of your body, every bit of it was pressed against the man who had you. Clove, Cinnamon, and something that smelled like fresh water and gunpowder came over your senses. Relaxing you enough to stop struggling. After all, he did say he wasn’t after you he was after Glutton. Maybe it was some type of rivalry you didn’t know about.
“He told me to r-run.” You made your voice waver, sinking a little into your knees as slowly the hand went from around your mouth to resting upon your chest, inches from your neck. Something about this position was enough to make your heart speed up in a completely different kind of way.
“Soap, fucking get her out of here. I am going after him.” The way he spoke, the authority in it reminded you of-No not the time. You were going to get your ass away from this, only, did he just-. Panic and anger started to rise from your chest.
“P-please just let me go home. He paid me, I-I just want to go home.” You pulled away slowly, the heat missing from your body now was a loss you had to suffer as you spun around and came face to face with the guy wearing the skull mask. You watched as Soap appeared behind the man. Although you had never seen him before from what Darren described to you, it fit the man to a tee.
“Aye quit your bitchin.” You masked the surprise or hope you did, moving away from the man and going over to Soap, throwing a little stumble in your walk.
“Stay with her. I am going to find him. I want to talk to her.” The voice made you glance at him, those brown eyes like drops of whiskey staring back at you before he moved back down the hallway, moving towards where Glutton disappeared too. You tried so hard not to run, glancing over at Soap with a soft little frown on your features. He seemed to relax a little, looking at you with a sheepish smile on his features.
“It’s gonna be okay lass promis’.” The words made you want to gag but instead, you nodded, glancing down at the door before looking out towards the dance floor where people seemed to be alright, still dancing but the fog was getting worse. It was now or never for leaving.
“Can – I feel sick can I go to the bathroom quick? I promise I’ll be back.” You moved from foot to foot, as if waiting for the answer of no. Only Soap looked down at you, sympathy in his features as he did so. Apparently, they all thought you were forced into something like this. Which you were for the price of information. You had you just hadn’t expected to see the one name that was on the list show up in front of you.
“Fine but the door unlocked and I stand outs’de lass.” Scottish you thought the accent was but you had not time to think about it now. You had to pack up your shit and leave as soon as you possibly could. Glutton would rat you out, although he’d give you enough time to leave he’d rat you out in heartbeat. This was the last little favor that you called in on him. He didn’t have any more use for you.
Nodding Soap’s arm was around you as you moved out of the hallway back towards the bathroom, which was to the right of where you and Glutton were standing earlier. You knew that it had a window close enough to the ground for you to slip out of and get away. Before Soap knew it you’d be long gone to your house to pack shit up and leave.
“Thanks -again, for saving me... He was – a lot of bad shit.” You whispered adding a little shake for effect before Soap placed a hand on your waist, though it didn’t have the same power as the man before. Your brain wasn’t about to give that man up for whatever reason.
“That is a dangerous cunt, I -man, luckily we came to save you.” Soap almost smiled a bit sheepishly before you leaned up and kissed his cheek and moved towards the door opening it.
“Unlocked I promise, but uh-who was that man previously, he gripped me pretty tight…” You glanced away as if scared, Soap just laughed shaking his head.
“Unlocked yes lass and Ghost, he’s a friend, he will make sure you’re protected don’t worry tha’ pretty little head of yours.” He almost reached out to pat your head, instead you beamed a smile and shut the door. When the click faded into the background, you quickly ripped the wig from your head throwing it into the toilet, and flipped off your heels throwing them into the toilet along with it.
Honestly, no one was going to care and well DNA would be washed off it with the water. Even if they could find your DNA on anything.
Next was the hard part, the window. It was a creaky old thing, you had tested it out a couple of times, so you made slow work of getting it open. The pounding music and people talking outside made you panic a little.
“Sorry ladies closed.” Soap's voice made you wait for a second, hearing the teeters of others speak to him before you slipped out of the bathroom and through the window. The soft grass met your feet as you started to lower the window. Only you were only so tall, and it came down with a slam that had you cringing for a second. You waited for someone to open the window and scream out it. When no one did, a breath or two later you moved from under the window and made a run for it. Your feet hit the pavement in slaps that made you wince a little. You hadn’t run barefoot in a while and honestly, you should have known that it was going to come to this. Glutton makes everything harder but you had to get answers.
And you did get answers.
3 Names.
Soap MacTavish.
Graves.
And Ghost.
Three not-so-dead ends that would lead you elsewhere but for right now you just had to clean up camp and get the fuck out of here. Compromised was what you were right now and if you had another ghost on your tail, it was time to disappear.