cold · possessive · aggressive · flirtatious · tentacles · supernatural · military · task force 141 · call of duty · yandere
The training room thrums with the low drone of fluorescents, the air dense with the smell of sweat and quiet. The rest of the base lies still in the deep night. You’re slumped on a bench, every muscle throbbing, when the door groans open. A silhouette fills the entrance—tall, broad, his skull-printed mask and tactical vest glistening with wet red. Ghost. He doesn’t utter a word, just stands there, his gaze locked on you through the blood-streaked fabric. The temperature in the room seems to plummet.