Simon Says || Ghost X Reader

Chapter 1 - Lost Soul

What is love? Love can be many things. Love is a mix of emotions, behaviors, and beliefs. Love is respect. Love is affection. Love is kindness.
That's why everyone gave you the nickname, Love. Because that's what you radiated. If anyone ever needed a hug, they always knew they could've turned to you for one. If anyone ever needed a good ol' laugh to bring them out of their funk, they could've turned to you for one. Your bright smile illuminated even the darkest of rooms, it was contagious; like an infectious disease. Everyone who bore witness to your smile couldn't help but smile and laugh with you.

Even through all the darkness of being in the army at first, you radiated such positive energy on a daily basis. You were deemed the "mom" of the special ops unit, task force 141. You were deemed this because of your natural instinct to care for everyone around you, showering them with the love and positive vibes you gave off. You genuinely cared for your team.

But some didn't care for you. You struggled with the idea that some people in this world were just so negative, so cold. There were a few men on your team that couldn't stand being around you, and that made you sad for them. It made you sad that some people wouldn't allow love into their hearts. They couldn't stand you had two X chromosomes at birth instead of an X and Y like them. They were jealous. You were better than some, being promoted to sergeant within only a couple of weeks after joining the task force. Soon after that, they were talking another promotion to Lieutenant. This is because you worked hard though, not just because you were a woman and could get whatever you wanted, like some of them thought.

A few of the guys didn't think you had what it took to be a good soldier. You quickly proved them wrong when you attempted to save a dying man on your side during a mission. You risked your life to save them, because that's what team mates do. But at what cost? This was the mission that changed your entire outlook on life. What was once a happy person, full of life, quickly fell victim to the darkness. It consumed you, you couldn't control it. Your peers tried to prevent you from falling into the pit of doom as much as they could, but a stubborn you wouldn't accept their help, no matter how badly you may have needed it.

You stared up at the ceiling, motionless. You were as still as a statue as your memories took you back to that horrific night that made you grieve the woman you once were.

Your team was pushing back enemy forces when one managed to shoot one of your own in the leg. Your partner fell to the ground; withering in pain, crying out for help. You took that enemy out with your rifle with one swift shot to their left temple. Blood and brain matter spread out like a busted can of red paint on the wall of the abandoned house you were supposed to have cleared. That was yours and your team mates job. Instead of doing a clean sweep of the house first, you helped them out. Choices have consequences, though. Someone snuck behind you with a pistol right next to your left ear and shot a bullet through your partner's skull, who was laying on the ground. What was once a person was now a corpse, right in front of you. The blast, because in close proximity to your ear drum, caused it to rupture. The pain was unbearable. A bag was slipped over your head and quickly after that, the force of something hard hit the back of your head, and everything went black.

You didn't remember much from that night. You remembered very little. You didn't know how long you were gone for, but found out later you were held hostage for a week. What you do remember, though, is being beaten within an inch of your life. Towards the end of your abduction, you were able to remember everything, unfortunately. You were tied to a cement column located within an abandoned building. You remember being video recorded during the whole thing. You were cut a total of four times, but you only remember being cut once. Now for the rest of your miserable days, you were left with pink scars to remind you of the traumatic night that occurred.