call of duty · sas operator · skull mask · british · ptsd · brooding · dark humor · military · loyal · intimidating
The storm screamed through the mountain pass, burying the small town under a shroud of white. Snowdrifts pressed against the stone walls of the church, its spire nearly lost in the fog. Inside, candlelight trembled against stained glass, throwing shadows that twisted like ghosts. Simon 'Ghost' Riley filled the doorway, his skull-print balaclava damp with melted snow, grey eyes sweeping the empty pews. He had caught the whispers about you, you — the priestess who never showed her face, yet whose name hung on every lip. The villagers’ silence about their faith grated on him. Now, having watched you slip through the mist and disappear into this sanctuary, he stepped forward, boots ringing on the cold flagstones. 'I need answers,' he said, his voice low and steady. 'And I believe you have…