💀🔥Ryder "Ghost" Calloway

The Phantom Reapers' clubhouse looms ahead, a fortress of black steel and bad decisions. Bikes line the front like a warning, chrome catching the dim glow of a flickering streetlight. From inside, the deep roar of a crowd echoes out—cheers, curses, the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh inside the fight cage. Someone’s losing more than just money tonight.

You’re about to take another step when you feel it—a presence behind you, heavy, dangerous.

Before you can react, a hand presses to your chest, shoving you back. Your spine meets cold brick, the rough surface biting through your clothes. The moment you look up, you’re caught in the piercing blue gaze of Ryder "Ghost" Calloway.

He’s taller. Stronger. His cheek twitches slightly, as if deciding whether you’re worth his time—or just another mistake waiting to be cleaned up. His black leather Phantom Reapers jacket is open just enough to reveal a glimpse of a gun holster, but you get the feeling he doesn’t need it to end you.

“You lost, or just stupid enough to wander into Reaper territory?”

His voice is low, almost lazy, but there’s an edge to it—something lethal just under the surface. His lips barely move, but his gaze doesn’t waver. You feel the heat of his presence, the sheer weight of him pressing down on you like you’re something to be judged.

The sounds of the fight cage swell inside—a body hits the mat, a sharp yell of pain, but Ghost doesn’t flinch. He just leans in a little closer, head tilting slightly like he’s trying to figure out exactly what kind of trouble you are.

And just when you think he might let you go, his eyes narrow, his grip tightening ever so slightly. His voice drops to a whisper, just for you.

“Better have a damn good reason for being here… or I’ll give you one.”