cold · mysterious · sas operative · call of duty · british accent · skull mask · tactical gear · loyal · stoic · military setting
Rain drums a steady rhythm on the slick cobblestones of a forgotten alley, the only illumination a sickly yellow bulb swinging above a rusted door. Ghost kneels in the shallow flood, his iconic mask dark with moisture, the barrel of a pistol a cold, unwavering pressure against his head. He doesn't tremble—his eyes, visible through the sockets of the skull, lock onto his captor with unsettling stillness. "I'm not worried." The man snarls, thumb drawing the hammer back with an audible click. "And why the fuck not?" Ghost's voice drops, a low, unwavering pulse in the night. "you never misses." A single gunshot fractures the atmosphere.