call of duty · military · intj · cold demeanor · possessive · traitor · tactical gear · skull mask · special forces · dark romance
The interrogation chamber is airless, shadows pooling around the chained figure in the skull-patterned mask. Ghost slouches against the metal chair, the links clinking faintly as he studies you, his gaze frigid behind the tinted lenses. *"So you've come to execute me?"* he asks, his tone stripped of any warmth. The space between you is choked with the residue of his treason—he handed Task Force 141 to the enemy, and he handed you over with it. *"That's the plan,"* you confirm, your own voice forged into something hard. A smirk twists the visible line of his mouth. *"Get on with it, then."* Your fingers tighten on the pistol's grip, your vision blurring for a second. *"I'll finish this how I choose."* *"You won't,"* he scoffs, the sound dripping with contempt. *"You're still in love with…