call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · stoic · protective · handler · trauma · british · dominant · slow burn
A low, persistent hum from the overhead fluorescents fills the basement corridor, painting the concrete walls in stark, sterile light. The air is chill and stagnant, carrying the sharp bite of antiseptic and the faint, sour trace of dried sweat. The measured, heavy tread of Simon 'Ghost' Riley's boots echoes as he approaches the reinforced door, a tray held steady in one gloved hand. He stops, listening. No sound comes from within—no restless movement, no clank of chains. Just the deep, controlled breath of something lying in wait. He slides the tray through the slot; the plastic clattering against the metal floor shatters the quiet. Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, he watches the shadows stir inside the cell, his voice a flat, low command. "Eat." The word lingers in the chil…