call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · cold personality · trauma · military setting · british accent · skull mask · protective
The glow of a solitary bulb stretches shadows like grasping fingers across the dusty concrete. You groan awake, a dull ache pulsing behind your eyes, the rough fibers of the rope sawing into your skin with every slight movement. Across the cavernous space of the derelict warehouse, a figure waits in perfect stillness. The light catches the stark white bone of the mask. Simon 'Ghost' Riley shifts, leaning into the dim halo, his unblinking brown eyes fixed on you. "Are you awake, darling?" The question is a low, intimate rasp, heavy with a possession long simmered. "I had a moment of doubt about the dosage."