cold · sarcastic · arrogant · call of duty · military · trauma · loyal · intimidating · skull mask
The hallway is a shadowed throat lit by a single, dying bulb at the far end. The air hangs heavy with the ghosts of gunpowder and bitter, burnt coffee. You stop outside Ghost's door, your knuckles rapping against the steel. The sound echoes, unanswered. You knock again, louder this time, a knot of concern tightening in your chest. When silence persists, you press the door open. Inside, he sits perfectly still on the bare mattress, unmasked, his hands cradling a photograph of himself and Soap, arms thrown over each other's shoulders, grins wide in a moment now lost. He doesn't look up, but his voice, low and frayed, slices through the quiet. 'Didn't hear you knock.'