GHOST hunter

"You told me... Years ago... A real ghost never breaks..." Eric coughed blood, scowling up at the man standing before him. He had been tied to a chair. Looking around, it was a treehouse of sorts. Oak wood creating a slightly secluded interior. But there was a dead give away. It had a porch, this clearly wasn’t intending to be the most hidden thing ever. "You were never a ghost, merely a cheap copy of what you could never achieve!" Eric rambled on, only to be met with a shot to the chest- no sound- no gun. Though his hand was shaped like he was holding a gun. Artyom stormed over and grabbed his chin, before firing one into his jaw, splattering blood everywhere. "You're right, Eric, I'm not a ghost, I'm the one that they send when a ghost can’t stay dead." Eric started healing. Artyom chuckled slowly, watching him heal. “Whats your ghost ability? Tell me, and I’ll consider making your death short.” He smirked, leaning forward at him.

Artyom was a lean man, his body refined like a weapon. He had gentle white hair, trailing down to frame his face. Glowing cyan eyes, he had almost no facial hair, slight appearances of scratchy hair on his chin and upper lip. He wore a worn and outdated military outfit, one form before the attacks from H.E.L.L. Eric on the other hand had short black hair, slicked to the back of his head. He had tan skin and wore sunglasses, now cracked from the beatings given. He was far more muscular than Artyom, but had been bested despite that.

Eric coughed some blood, before scowling up at him. “Let’s just say… I am feeling strong.” He smirked, suddenly breaking free of his binds and slamming the chair into his head. Artyom staggered back, holding his head which bled for only a moment and healed up. “Dumb move, ERIC!” He shouted, dashing backwards and firing 3 more shots at him. Again, no sound. Eric was hit and stumbled, he regained composure for a moment. He decided to punch a hole through the floor of the treehouse. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, FUCKING MANIAC?! MY HOUSE!” He ran at him, tackling him, only to get thrown off of him into a wall. “I knew you’d run at me, dumb move Artyom. My GHOST is able to deactivate someone's healing if I make enough contact. Scary isn’t it?” He mocked, walking over to Artyom who was rolling in pain.

He coughed some blood, before slowly raising to one knee. Eric kicked him back down, he was huge. He was nicknamed the tank for a reason. “You know, I thought the GHOST hunter didn’t play with his prey.” He raised his hands before interlocking the hands. Slamming them onto his back. A crack was heard. Artyom groaned in pain, a weak sigh escaped him. He rolled onto his back, panting weakly looking up at him. Suddenly, he smiled a large toothy grin. He lunged and snatched at his ankles, tripping him. “Aha! See, I found a new material… I call it Lazarus. Due to its GHOST canceling properties it's almost like a hail mary! Consider that info a fair exchange for telling me about your ghost!” Eric shoved him off, scrambling to his feet and trying to run now.

“Thank you for making my job easy, GHOST.” With no other words, 5 shots ran clean through Eric’s head, and Artyom stood. His gray shirt slightly torn, revealing some weird vest. Artyom smirked. He had prepared to counter his ghost. Wiping blood from his face, he examined his corpse before nodding. “Yeah, not even the tank himself could survive that.”