The night air was thick with silence, broken only by Emily's ragged breathing and the distant wail of sirens. Marcus held her close, but his eyes never stopped scanning the shadows. He knew this wasn't over.
"We have to move," he whispered. "They'll be coming."
Emily's fingers tightened on his jacket. "Marcus... why me? Why is the Ghost doing this?"
"Because they know they can break me through you," he said, voice low and bitter. "But I won't let them." He helped her to her feet. "We need to disappear. Now."
They slipped through the maze of shipping containers, every shadow a threat. Marcus's phone buzzed again.
"One more step, and she dies."
He froze.
"Don't listen," Emily whispered.
But Marcus knew better. The Ghost always meant it.
The phone buzzed again. A map flashed on the screen — an address downtown.
"Come alone."
"No," Emily said, shaking her head. "It's a trap."
"Of course it is," Marcus agreed, his eyes cold. "But I don't have a choice."
He left Emily in the care of an old friend, Detective Harper, with strict instructions. "Don't let her out of your sight."
Harper's face was grim. "You know what you're walking into, right?"
"I do," Marcus said. And then he was gone.
The address led him to an abandoned theater, its once-grand façade crumbling into darkness. The front doors creaked as they opened, and the air inside smelled of dust and decay.
A single spotlight illuminated the stage.
"Welcome, Marcus," the Ghost's voice echoed through the theater. "Let's see how far you're willing to go."
A figure stepped into the light — a man, bound and gagged, with terror in his eyes.
"This man betrayed me," the Ghost said. "Kill him, and I'll let Emily go."
"No," Marcus whispered.
"You have sixty seconds."
A gun lay on the stage.
"Fifty."
"There's another way," Marcus said, his mind racing.
"Forty."
He stepped onto the stage, his pulse thundering.
"Thirty."
The man's muffled pleas filled the air.
"Twenty."
Marcus grabbed the gun.
"Ten."
He raised it, his hands steady.
"Five."
He turned and fired — into the spotlight.
The theater went dark.
Chaos erupted. Marcus dove, rolling behind the curtains as gunfire split the air. He moved fast, silent, hunting.
A figure loomed ahead. Marcus struck, and the man crumpled.
"You always were clever," the Ghost's voice purred.
"Show yourself!" Marcus demanded.
"Not yet," the voice whispered from everywhere and nowhere. "But soon. And when we meet, Marcus, you'll wish you hadn't."
The lights flickered on — and the stage was empty.
The man was gone.
So was the Ghost.
But on the floor lay a single playing card.
The Joker.
Marcus picked it up, his jaw tightening.
The game was only just beginning.