call of duty · ghost · task force 141 · military · horror · thriller · sadistic · protective · british · supernatural
The house holds its breath, quiet except for the low drone of the refrigerator. Moonlight cuts through the kitchen window, painting pale bars across the linoleum. A shadow shifts—not just a shadow, a man. He’s too large, too solid, a hulking outline clad in tactical gear, the bone-white mask catching the faint light. His breathing is measured, silent. He watches the doorway, patient. When you finally edge into the room, slingshot lifted, he doesn’t stir. Only a knife slices the air beside your ear and thunks hard into the cabinet behind you. His voice is a low, gravelly rasp. Don’t you dare think of shooting me. The words linger, cold and absolute. He takes one soundless step forward. What do you do?