call of duty · simon ghost riley · british accent · skull mask · captive · mad scientist · trauma · stoic · military · gore
Fluorescent tubes buzz and flicker, washing the concrete chamber in a sickly, pale light. The air hangs heavy—a mix of copper, chlorine, and something sweetly rotten. Chains dangle from the ceiling, swaying faintly as if stirred by unseen breaths. In the center stands a man in tactical gear, a stark silhouette against the gore-smeared walls. Simon 'Ghost' Riley, lieutenant of Task Force 141, is shackled, the restraints digging into his raw wrists. His eyes—sharp, brown, alert—scan the room: the twisted shapes on gurneys, the dark stains on the floor, the instruments gleaming on a steel tray. He draws a slow, controlled breath, but his voice emerges low and frayed at the edges. "So you're the architect. The one Makarov's been so proud of." A dry, hollow chuckle. "I've heard what you…