GHOST STORIES, mcu

007! the ghost

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SIEDEM
the ghost
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Red, Ola found, was her favourite colour.

It was the colour of the poppies that grew just outside her window in her home in Poland. Even when it snowed, the harsh cold ripping away the life from the other plants, the poppies persisted. The vibrant red standing out against all that white, like drops of blood scattered across the snow.

It was the colour of her favourite sunsets. Where the symphony of the orange and pink hues of the atmosphere were so intense, so powerful, that it glowed red. Painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of colours, going deeper and deeper until it produced that perfect crimson Ola couldn't tear her eyes away from.

But most importantly, it was the colour of blood. The precious resource fuelled a person, gave them life. Yet it was so easy to draw out, so easy to drain with a simple slice or stab of one of her blades. She loved how it varied. A small prick would produce a bead of bright scarlet, glowing on the surface of pale skin. But if she dug deeper, sliced harder, it would morph, darkening and darkening until it looked black, the only red coming from reflections of the light, drawing out ruby highlights that shone out that much brighter against the dark substance.

Ola didn't think she'd ever grow bored of looking at the steady flow of blood pouring from a person. Everyone was different, no body reacted the same. Ola found herself, sometimes, playing a little game in her head, wondering how the the liquid would pour from a wound. Whether it would trickle slowly, like a drop of rain on a pane of glass, or gush wildly, pints at a time like a dam had just broke.

     But most importantly, she loved it because it meant she completed a task. Once the steady flow stopped, she knew her job was done, that her mission was complete and the world was safer because of it.

She stood covered in the substance now, drenching her from head to toe. It stuck to her face like a mask, dripped from her hair, imbedded itself in every pore and crevice of her body like a second skin. It painted the walls, pooled on the floor, it was just everywhere.

And Ola loved it.

But it wasn't Ola standing in that room, it wasn't Aleksandra smiling with sick satisfaction. No, it was something else, something she let take over her mind anytime she left the academy for a mission. It was the beast in the back of her mind that always festered, growing stronger the longer she kept it tucked away, the thirst for blood intensifying with each passing second it couldn't feel a weakening pulse on its fingertips.

It was The Ghost. The Academy's greatest achievement, it's greatest pride. A brutal entity that struck from the shadows, it's victims not having a chance to know their fate until it was too late. Until their skin was covered in the liquid that flowed from their heart. Until all they could see was an ominous shadow, black hair concealing its features, save for the bright grey eyes that shone in morbid fascination of their suffering.

The Ghost had just completed its newest mission. It didn't know why it's marks had to die, it didn't much care for the reason either. It followed instructions like it had been taught, obediently carrying out its task with graceful perfection. The bodies of seven men laid scattered on the ground lifelessly, each one killed more brutally than the last, each one gushing more crimson to the floor than their predecessor.