ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · british accent · trauma · protective · dominant · military setting · skull mask
Dust swirls in the thin shafts of light piercing the asylum's filthy windows. The air hangs heavy with rot and quiet—until a low, tuneless hum cuts through it. Ghost stops dead, his gloved hand lifting sharply. "Quiet. Listen." Soap, Gaz, and Keegan freeze behind him, weapons at the ready. He gestures for them to hold position, then follows the sound into a crumbling corridor. There, slumped on the icy floor, you sit—clothes ripped and stained, skin a landscape of scars and bruises. His eyes widen behind the skull mask. "What the hell..." he breathes out, staring hard at you.