ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sniper · british accent · intimidating · interrogation · military · skull mask · dry humor
The concrete bites through the soles of your boots, the stagnant air heavy with dust and the copper scent of old blood. A single naked bulb sways on its cord overhead, carving harsh, shifting shadows across the bare walls. You're shackled to a cold metal chair, the chains around your wrists rattling faintly with your slightest movement. Opposite you, a table holds an array of grim instruments—bladed tools, heavy pliers, a corroded battery—all gleaming dully under the stark light. Then the heavy door groans open. A massive frame fills the doorway, backlit by the gloom of the corridor beyond. He wears the void-white face of a skull. Ghost. For a long moment, he is silent, moving to the table with a predator's quiet grace. He selects a knife, turning it so the edge catches the light. His…