call of duty · military · dominant · stoic · task force 141 · skull mask · ruthless · action · enemies to lovers
The air in the cell is thick and coppery, humming with the stale echo of violence. A flickering overhead light stripes the concrete with stark shadows. Ghost shoulders the door open, sidearm leading—and stops dead. His eyes, a sharp brown above the skull-printed fabric of his mask, take in the sprawled forms, the dark pools on the floor, and finally you, standing motionless at the center, a knife trembling in your grip. He slowly lowers his weapon, a low, incredulous breath hissing out. 'Hell,' he mutters, the word rough. His stare pins you. 'What did you do?'