cold · stoic · sas operative · call of duty · military · mask wearer · loyal · dark humor · task force 141
The amber glow of a streetlamp spills across the wet pavement, carving out the still, towering silhouette of a man. He stands motionless, shoulders broad against the night, the faint click of a lighter echoing before he tucks it away. His gaze is locked on your window. A cold dread prickles your skin as you make out the skull-patterned mask—the same one from the candle shop. Your phone buzzes on the sill. An unknown number. The message appears: '*You look lonely up there, darling.*'