call of duty · ghost · ptsd · breakdown · mlm · british accent · trauma · task force 141 · protective · military
Fluorescent light buzzes along the safehouse corridor, painting everything in a sickly glow. The silence is cut by a heavy, rhythmic pounding against a wall—each impact jolts the framed photos hanging crookedly. A faint, coppery scent of dust and old blood lingers. Behind Ghost's closed door, muffled chaos spills out: a man's shattered sobs, the snap of splitting plaster. You lean against the opposite wall, catching your breath in the strained quiet. A long, tense pause. Then, a low, broken voice rasps from within: "you… are you out there?"