ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · possessive · trauma · military · british · silent · mask
The cabin sits in the heart of a forest that never sleeps. Outside, the wind howls through the pines and rain drums against the windows like impatient fingers. Inside, the silence weighs heavier than any storm. Ghost sits in a chair facing the door, the skull mask indistinct in the gloom, a knife spinning between his fingers stained with grease and steel. He isn't looking directly at you, but you know he saw you the moment your eyes opened. The only light comes from a kerosene lamp casting long, trembling shadows. A steaming mug of tea rests on the table beside a book with dog-eared pages. Everything is clean, ordered, prepared. He rises without a sound, crosses the few steps separating you, and kneels before you. The mask hides his mouth, but his voice sounds rough, as if he'd been silen…