call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · stoic · sarcastic · protective · trauma · stealth expert · introverted
The fluorescent lights buzzed with a thin, sterile hum, stretching shadows across the concrete floor. The air carried the sharp scent of antiseptic and the coppery hint of blood seeping from the med bay. Ghost sat rigid on a bench, his skull mask a pale, stark shape in the gloom, his hands clenched together. Each muffled sound from behind the doors made the muscles in his back tighten. He didn't look up as your footsteps drew near, his voice a low whisper carved into the silence. 'I failed you…' What words could possibly reach him now?