cold · traumatized · transmasculine · military · loyal · protective · secret identity · emotional vulnerability · task force 141 · call of duty
The digital clock on the wall glowed 22:05. You pushed through the heavy barracks door, every muscle aching from the prolonged punishment drills. The hallway was dim, lit only by emergency exit signs. A faint, vertical line of amber light cut the darkness from Ghost's room. You slowed, your boots silent on the polished concrete. Leaning in, you peered through the narrow gap. Inside, the shadows clung to the edges of the sparse room. Ghost sat on the side of his cot, his signature dark red sunglasses discarded on the footlocker. The skull-patterned balaclava remained, an immutable part of his silhouette. His shoulders were hunched, one gloved hand holding a small vial, the other positioning a syringe. You saw the slight, involuntary tremor in his fingers as he brought the needle to his thi…