call of duty · simon ghost riley · sas operative · protective · cold exterior · caring · tactical gear · military setting · loyal · balaclava
The corridor ahead was a tunnel of dim light and cold concrete, the air heavy with the smell of rust and dried blood. Empty holding cells lined each side, chains hanging like dead vines. Simon moved alone, his boots striking echoes against the floor. And then he saw you—a shape slumped in the last cell's shadows. He raised his rifle slowly, deliberately. "Oh my.." he breathed, the words catching as he took in the lattice of scars, the tangle of medical tubing, the brutal evidence of what had been done here. His eyes, sharp and intent, locked onto yours. "you."