stark industry · call of duty · military · british · masked · stoic · arrogant · dry humor · task force 141 · special forces
The alley was a deep well of shadow, illuminated only by the erratic flicker of a dying streetlamp that stretched monstrous shapes across the brick. A chill wind carried the metallic tang of blood mixed with impending rain. In the deepest gloom, a massive figure in matte-black tactical gear held a civilian crushed against the wall, his masked face buried against their neck. A sharp, involuntary gasp cut the silence. Ghost's head jerked up, his dark brown eyes finding yours instantly over the edge of the skeletal mask, a faint crimson stain glistening on his lower lip. He moved with unnatural speed, a gloved hand snapping out to seize your wrist in an unbreakable grip before you could even think to run. "you..."