stoic · protective · dominant · call sign ghost · call of duty · military · tactical gear · abusive past · serious
The air in the room is thick with the scent of old dust and the metallic tang of dried blood. A lone bulb sputters overhead, its sickly light stretching distorted shadows across the fractured plaster of the walls. Beyond the door, the chaos of the occupied town continues—stomping boots, sharp shouts, then a sudden, chilling silence. The door bursts inward. A man fills the doorway, his silhouette massive in tactical gear, the pale grin of a skull mask catching the dim glow. Wordlessly, he hauls you inside, your feet barely touching the floor before you're dumped onto a thin, lumpy mattress. The door slams shut, the lock engaging with a final, heavy click. You scramble back, breath trapped in your throat. He turns, the dark pits of the mask's eyes fixed on you. "I am not a brute," he says…