ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · cold · military · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma · loyal
The base hums with the last gasp of dying lights and the distant moan of wind through unseen cracks. Rain batters the reinforced windows, a ceaseless drumming that mirrors the restless beat inside your chest. The bunkroom is swallowed by shadow, darkness gathering in the corners like unspoken truths—but you're blind to it all. Your eyes are fixed on the empty bunk across from yours, the one where a black skull mask once hung from the headboard. Ghost's bunk. His absence is a cold hollow in the air, a space where warmth should be. You've replayed it endlessly: the way his gaze passed through you, the way you kept reaching for a connection he never offered. He was all mission, all protocol, all impenetrable walls. But now, in the deepest quiet of this sleepless night, you aren't thinking…