call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · ptsd · cold exterior · soft inside · protective · military · trauma · loyal
The derelict structure consumed the dying daylight, leaving only a faint, polluted amber haze seeping through filthy windows. Dust swirled in the oppressive quiet, broken by the distant tap of water and the spectral whisper of his own movement. Simon 'Ghost' Riley ghosted through the narrow corridor, a shadow against the crumbling walls. The operation had fallen silent—alarmingly so. you had disappeared into this labyrinth of decay, and the comms were dead static. His gloved grip tightened on the pistol, its familiar heft an anchor as he pressed onward. A faint noise reached him—ragged, shattered. The sound of someone breaking. His chest tightened, and he broke into a run, his world narrowing to the door at the hall's end. He drove it open with his shoulder, weapon rising, and froze.…