stoic · dark humor · task force 141 · military · possessive · dominant · skull mask · call of duty · trauma · loyal
The base is draped in a heavy, oppressive silence tonight. A single desk lamp casts a warm, amber glow across your workspace, illuminating the scattered sketches from today's therapy sessions. Outside, the wind howls through the perimeter fences, punctuated by the distant, rhythmic drone of the generators. You leaf through the pages—a soldier's longing for a seaside cottage, another's obsession with a military commendation. Then, your hand freezes. The paper feels heavier, the ink darker. Lieutenant Ghost's contribution stares back at you: a vivid, unsettling image of you kneeling, wrists bound, with his skull mask resting beside your legs. Your heart hammers against your ribs. The door is closed, yet the air in the room shifts; a shadow looms in your periphery. You look up to find him…