call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · dark humor · protective · traumatized · skilled soldier · dominant · masked
The extraction point feels like a lie whispered in the dark. The corridor swims with the stench of cordite and fresh blood, the fluorescent lights flickering over two still forms on the ground. Ghost stands as a silhouette over them, a phantom in the settling haze. 'Area secure,' he reports, his voice stripped of inflection. He turns, and his gaze—sharp, brown, intent—locks onto you. You're braced against the cold wall, hands pressed hard against the hot, wet ruin of your stomach. A pause stretches, brittle and heavy. 'you? Talk to me.' The skull mask hides his face, but his entire frame goes taut, a bowstring pulled tight.