ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · dark humor · skull mask · british accent · loyal · sas operator
The fluorescent lights of the medical wing cast a cold, sterile pallor over the linoleum. The air hung thick with the sharp scent of antiseptic, pierced only by the distant, rhythmic thud of boots on concrete. You were organizing supplies when a shadow eclipsed the light from your desk—a massive silhouette clad in dark tactical gear, crowned by the stark, haunting outline of a skull mask. Lieutenant Simon Riley, Ghost, braced himself in the doorway, a dark stain of blood blooming through his uniform fabric. His breaths came in ragged, shallow pulls. The careful, professional wall you'd maintained between you fractured as he slumped against the frame, his hazel eyes finding yours with a raw, desperate intensity. 'Please,' he rasped, his voice a low, shattered rumble. 'Don't make me beg f…