Sounds of gunfire and the crackling of burning buildings filled air of the once peaceful Ottawa, Illinois. However, unbeknownst to most rioters, looters, and people looking to enact their own twisted versions of justice, lurking amongst them, was a great white amongst small predators. That once friendly, helping-hand was now dual-wielding a custom fire axe and a custom twenty--pound sledge hammer, both mounted on his back with a mount that young man had created with his scarred hands.
As the Ghost of Ottawa entered left his old life behind in Apartment 4, the winds seem to respond to the seething rage he'd store away for now twelve years. It carried the smoke and debris-dust low, whipped it into a fury that killed all visibility around those seeking to dismantle the city that had been home of those he'd held most dear. As he marched into Washington Park, a small group of rioters had gotten seperated from their main force. They couldn't see anything, nor could anyone hear them. Their eyes stuns from the smoke and the debris-dust was too abrasive to attempt to fight with bare eyes alone. One of them turned around to see the Ghost, death glare looked onto him. The rioter backed up, tripping over some debris. By the time he saw the Ghost again... that fire axe had cracked his skull open. One by one, the Ghost of Ottawa picked all of them off, just like a great white hunts a seal, so to the Ghost hunted the invaders of the place he called home.
Once nothing but blood-stained soil remained, the Ghost made his way toward the south side of Ottawa. The song 1998 Phantom (Slowed) by nightfxrce blasted from his earbuds as quickened his pace. However, as he approached Veterans Bridge, a group of people emerged from a building. The Ghost crushed one's femur, and another took an axe to their sternum. The group forced the Ghost back, but called out to him. "We don't want any trouble! We're trying to get out of here! Please!" The man's voice trembled as the Ghost reappeared beside him.
"Why should I believe you? I just killed to two of your guys... well, the bleeding out will killed them." The Ghost's death-squint pierced the man's souls, but found no ill-intent. The man let out a slow, long breath. "I'm trying to get my family out of here. The two guys you killed, they were holding them hostage, so you really did me a favor. Thank you." The man nodded in a gesture of thanks to which the Ghost replied in kind. However, getting people through this, wasn't in his plan, but... "ARGH! FINE! Keep you family inbetween us. If I stop, y'all stop. If I run..." Started the Ghost. "The we all run." Finished the man. With that, the Ghost began escorting this family, cutting and/or bludgeoning anyone who dared stand in their way.
Upon reaching the south side, the family followed the Ghost. They turneed left, went several blocks, then took a right. However, despite the Ghost having been call, he came to find the house he'd spent so many years at, infested with vermin, and not the the animal kind. Ghost told the family to stay put, and vanished toward the small, white house with a brown roof. Inside, the Ghost spotted someone he'd hoped he'd get the chance to "chat" with. It was an old "friend", in reality this person was someone who decided to assault one of the Ghost's past lover's. Utilizing his knowledge of the house, he lured the vermin's group outside.
"Dude, there's no one here." Vermin said with an eye roll. However, the Ghost's voice pierced the hazy air. "Really? Did I not fucking tell you to stay... THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE?!" Without warning the Ghost's fire axe was stuck in the back of one of vermin's goon's head. The group opened fire, bullets went everywhere, but none hit the Ghost. "Haha! Well placed you gay little fuck! COME OUT AND FACE..." Vermin fell silent as the Ghost's rifle, that he'd kept hidden in his coveralls, had its barrel in Vermin's mouth. "Here I am... You should've never came here expecting to live. The rifle fired, and Vermin dropped dead. His crew had killed themselves, clearly spooked by the Ghost's sudden appearance.
The Ghost marched back to the family, covered in blood and brought themselves. The family and the Ghost settled in for the night. Later than night, the father walked into the living room to find a rifle pointed at him. "Woah now, just came to talk." The Ghost motioned from him to take a seat on the floor. "So talk." Ghost replied, clearly unamused by this. The room was silent for a moment, "What... why do you do this? You have no problem killing, none as for as I see." The father asked him. The Ghost took a long breath before answering. "Ever wonder how much pain a heart, soul, and mind can take? If you did, I'm the answer to that fucking question. Way...too...much." The father was going to speak, but the Ghost stopped him. "You asked why, right? Well..." The Ghost looked at the floor for a moment before speaking again. "I was sexually assaulted twice, beat plenty, brusied head to toe, hell, my body is covered in scars... all for sins I was told I had to pay for. So why? Because fuck any society, that deems my scars an appropriate sacrifice for progress."
The Ghost's eye softened as he looked back at the father. "Now go rest. Y'all need to be gone before sunrise if you want a chance at getting someplace safe." The father watched as the Ghost kept guard. This would be the last time the family would ever see the Ghost... the last time the world would be the same...