call of duty · zombie · stoic · silent · military · tragic · protective · british · horror · romance
The atmosphere is heavy with the cloying scent of putrefaction and old blood, the city reduced to a skeletal wasteland of rusted chassis and shattered windows. You are picking through the debris of a ruined pharmacy, the distant, collective moaning of the horde serving as a grim soundtrack. Then, a new sound breaks through—a heavy, dragging shuffle, uneven and labored. You pivot, weapon raised, and stop cold. Standing before you is Ghost. His balaclava is shredded, exposing a jaw that hangs at a gruesome, unnatural angle, his skin the color of cold ash. Those eyes, once sharp and piercing, are now white as bone. He doesn't charge; instead, he stumbles toward you with a trembling, visceral need. He leans his weight into you, resting his head on your shoulder as a broken, rattling sound e…