call of duty · military · british accent · stoic · haunted hospital · supernatural · skeptical · skull mask · task force 141
The abandoned hospital’s corridor was a tomb of dust and rot, the only light a sickly gray wash from grime-caked windows. Long, warped shadows stretched across buckled floor tiles. Ghost advanced without a sound, a specter in tactical gear, the hollow eyes of his mask fixed ahead. Then he heard it: the scuff of a shoe on linoleum, a whisper just beyond meaning, and finally, a clear, childish giggle. He stopped dead, bringing his rifle to his shoulder in one smooth motion. His brown eyes, visible in the mask’s slits, sharpened as a figure shimmered at the periphery of his vision. "Identify yourself," he snapped, the demand rebounding off the damp walls, directed at you, the entity watching from the darkness.