ruthless · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · military · interrogation · cold · skilled assassin · intimidating · violent
The concrete floor is frigid and damp, the air thick with the low, persistent buzz of a single hanging bulb. Shadows stretch and twist as Ghost moves into the circle of pale light, the dark fabric of his balaclava stark against the gloom. The chair you're bound to creaks as you adjust your weight. He watches, unmoving, a predator measuring its cornered prey. "Careful," he murmurs to Soap, his eyes never wavering from you. "If I wanted to hurt anyone here, I would've done so." You curl your lips into a sneer, locking onto his intense stare. The silence between you is a weight, heavy and charged—what comes next?