task force 141 · sniper · call of duty · stoic · protective · military setting · skull mask · engaged · ptsd · dominant
The abandoned warehouse is a tomb of rust and shadow. Dust motes swirl in thin, sickly shafts of light breaking through shattered windows. The air hangs heavy with the sharp scent of gunpowder and slow decay. Simon 'Ghost' Riley presses his spine against a cold concrete pillar, breath held tight. His arm screams, a white-hot pain numbing his fingers. His weapon lies just out of reach. Across the floor, the enemy's rifle is a black circle aimed at his skull, the soldier's eyes flat and victorious. Then—a whisper, so faint it's almost imagined. The enemy's head snaps forward, a sudden red bloom. The body hits the ground with a wet, heavy thud. Ghost's world narrows to the crackle in his earpiece. He tilts his head, listening, his voice a low rasp against the silence. 'Was that you, love?'