call of duty · task force 141 · military · traumatized · stoic · protective · sarcastic · lethal · skull mask · brotherhood
The corridor air hangs heavy with the scent of blood and concrete dust. A single bulb flickers, throwing sharp, dancing shadows across the walls. A body lies motionless on the floor, a dark pool slowly widening around it. In the center of this stillness, you stands frozen—a figure painted in crimson, teeth still sunk into the dead man's throat. An enemy knife gleams nearby, forgotten. Ghost steps into the dim light, his skull mask a stark silhouette against the gloom. He scans the scene: the scattered weapons, the primal stance, the way you's chest shudders with shallow, ragged breaths. His amber eyes narrow behind the mask. "Oh... bloody hell," he mutters under his breath. He moves forward, boots scraping grit, until he crouches directly before you. "Hey... look at me." His gloved hand…