Infatuation (18+) | Ghost X Reader

51 - Maniacal

TW - gore, soft play

There was red, everywhere. It was like someone had painted the walls. But in reality, the blood dripped and dripped off the walls, creating puddles that seeped through the carpet.

Six bodies surrounded me, mangled and discombobulated. Their corpses were twisted and crushed until they weren't even reconisable as human anymore. One had my heel lodged into their eye socket and another was decorated with knives extending from their torso. They piled on top of eachother, the small room limiting the area of their decomposition. Victor remained tied to the chair, organs spilling out from his chest that had been slashed open. The white sheets that bound him were now also a scarlet shade, complimenting the splashes of red that landed on the bed.

Messages were inscribed in the red ink across the empty spaces on the wall. Names. Of every head I had brought in. And warnings. Of what was to come.

Stepping over the pile of lifeless limbs, I looked into the shattered mirror. My once shimmering purple dress was now a murky mess of maroon and my bare skin was stained with evidence. My hair was matted down and soaked. The remnants of my lipstick had mixed with the blood that was smeared across my face.

Fuck.

I let out a small sigh and picked up the keys I had found on one of the carcasses. In a cloth that I had ripped from one of the remains, I carried 7 index fingers, having chopped them off from my unruly opposition, each having a phrase in Russian sprawled across it.

To plead for a merciful death, Victor had relayed that the tattoos did mean something. But the fool lost consciousness before I could figure out what. That wasn't enough for an easy death.

It was well into the night as I drove home. I felt numb, unfeeling. Apathetic about what I just did. The road was tranquil the whole journey home.

Footprints of blood followed me as I made my way to Ghost's office. I needed to share the information I had obtained. We needed to flush this rat out.

Oh.

I hear shouting.

I hope I didn't arrive too late. I did try to be as quick as I could.

Carefully, I opened the door and walked in to see Johnny, Konig, Angelina, and Ghost. The room went still as all eyes landed on me.

All three besides Ghost was scared stiff, unable to form any audible sound.

But his gaze softened as he stared at me. "Yours?" He asked, standing up from behind his desk, taking off his army shirt so he was in his compression shirt only now.

I shook my head.

If any of the blood I was wearing was mine, I wouldn't even know where to look for an open wound.

"Let's get you home." He mumbled, approaching me and putting his shirt over my shoulders. Then he took the fingers out of my hand, dropping them on the table, consequently they rolled out of the cloth I'd wrapped them in.

"Soap, deal with that. Konig, deal with her, and the fish." Ghost sighed as Johnny jumped from the sight of the decaying fingers.

"What the fuck!" He yelled in fright. "Konig, let's switch!" But Konig only shook his head, moving to stand next to Angelina.

Ghost pulled me close and led me out of the office.

A handful of soldiers did walk past but my gaze remained low. None dared to speak on this, not with the Lieutenant standing right next to me.

After a couple of moments we got back to the apartment and Ghost took me straight into the bathroom.

"Strip." He instructed, leaning against the bathroom counter.

I took off his shirt and placed it on the rack and reached behind my back to unzip my dress but I only struggled. Ghost picked up on this and walked over to me, moving my hair to the side before unzipping my dress seamlessly and letting it fall to the fall.

Then he helped unclasp my bra and pull off my underwear, both having their own fair share of blood stains that had soaked through my dress, his cold touch electrifying my burning skin. He dropped them on the floor and took my hand, helping me get into the tub.

Pulling out a stool, he grabbed the shower head and fixed the water temperature, turning it on and pointing it at my legs once he sat down.

I brought my knees up and hugged them, resting my head on top of them as he began to clean me up.

He would hold out one of my arms, washing it with water before taking a cloth that emitted soap suds. Carefully, he would wipe the remaining dried blood across my stained skin, one after the other until my limbs were clean.

"Stand up." He ordered, helping me to my feet. First he set up the shower so there was a constant stream on me and brought me forward by holding my thigh. The cloth ran up from my abdomen to my breast and back down to my stomach. He did it again and again, ignoring any opportunity to squeeze or fondle any part of my body.

The restraint on this man.

Turning me around, he stood up, moving my hair over my shoulder and grabbing my waist to keep me straight as he finished up.

Penultimately, he used my fruit scented shampoo to wash out the sticky blood and grit in my hair. The water ran a faint red colour, looking like a murder scene itself.

"Want to talk about it?" He asked, finally breaking the silence.

I shook my head, bringing my knees back up as he rinsed out the few suds left in my hair.

"Look up for me." He directed, softly tilting my head up from my knees to meet his gaze. Not even for a moment were his eyes not on me.

I picked up on the softness of his hazel eyes and the concern buried in his facial expression. No wonder he covers his face often, I could read his expression like a book.

"You were worried." I whispered with a small frown.

He sighed quietly and began to wipe my face of the dried blood that refused to budge on its own. "I was." He answered honestly. "But you're here now."

After a moment he was able to clear my face, I cupped his face lightly with both my hands and leaned in. He didn't move, allowing my lips to crash into his as we kissed tenderly.

Ghost quickly assumed control of the kiss, dropping the cloth and cupping my face instead as my hands wondered over his, grabbing his wrists lightly as he restricted the air from me.

Pulling away slightly, he rested his forehead against mine. "Mm, wear that dress for me again." He growled lowly, rubbing my cheek gently.

Out of everything that happened. The blood, the fingers, the fish?? He noticed what I was wearing and gave his opinion on it. He continued to astound me. Everyone looked at me like I was the devil.

Not him though.

His eyes only ever showered me with love and lust.

I shivered against his touch and lifted my head up to meet his stare. "Get in. I want you now." I mumbled, my hands moving to hold the edge of the tub as I anticipated his next move.

He couldn't help but smirk a little at my urgency. "What changed?" He asked.

My hands lifted to his waistband, tracing along it until I reached the zipper, pulling it down. "We could die tomorrow." I spoke, biting my lip as I looked down at his crotch.

"Even after I die, you'll still belong to me. There's no need to rush, kitten." He responded but then grunted harshly as I went straight to kneeding his length through his pants.

"I want this dick in me before you die." I grumbled, leaning out of the tub slightly so now I was only millimetres away from his face. "And I know you want this pussy before I die too." I whispered against his lips.

"You're picking the wrong guy for your first, kitten." He hissed, leaning back into the chair as his legs spread, welcoming my touch. "Once we start.. we're going until you can't even lift a fucking finger."

"We'll see about that."

We didn't have to see. The look in his eye said enough.