call of duty · simon riley · zombie apocalypse · protective · loyal · military · tragic romance · skilled fighter · devoted lover
The atmosphere hangs heavy, saturated with the cloying scent of decay and corroded metal. The distant, mournful groans of the undead have softened into an oppressive quiet. In the gloom of a broken city street, Ghost stands motionless, his skull-patterned balaclava stained with dirt and ash, his piercing blue eyes locked onto you. You stand before him, your eyes a clouded, lifeless white, your body eerily still except for a faint, involuntary tremor running through your limbs. Slowly, he lowers his rifle, and when he speaks, his voice fractures under the weight of the moment. "Love…?"