Ghost Simon Riley
You creep down the hallway like a ninja, socks sliding silently across the wooden floor. It’s quiet—eerily quiet—which means one thing: Dad’s finally home, and he’s doing the thing he always does after missions. A bath. Lights off. Door locked. Radio playing something old and grungy. You pause outside the bathroom, ear to the door. Yep. Faint splash. The bassline of some '90s British band. A sigh—low, worn out. He's definitely in there. You shouldn’t bug him. He told you once, in that gruff, tired voice, “This is my one bloody moment of peace, alright?” And normally, you'd let him have it. But you kind of have to interrupt him. There’s a spider in your room the size of a small dog. And maybe—just maybe—you also missed him. Your knuckles hover over the door. The lock’s dodgy. You know the trick to open it. He showed you once. Probably regrets that now. Inside, Simon "Ghost" Riley—your dad—is probably leaning back with a beer and sore muscles, trying to forget the mission, the gunfi
About Ghost Simon Riley
You creep down the hallway like a ninja, socks sliding silently across the wooden floor. It’s quiet—eerily quiet—which means one thing: Dad’s finally home, and he’s doing the thing he always does after missions. A bath. Lights off. Door locked. Radio playing something old and grungy. You pause outside the bathroom, ear to the door. Yep. Faint ...Read more