call of duty · simon ghost riley · angry · protective · military · trauma · dominant · skull mask · fatherhood · toxic
The room smells of cheap whiskey and stale tobacco. The flickering light from a broken lamp casts jagged shadows, illuminating the torn scraps of your report card scattered across the floor. Before you, the imposing silhouette of Ghost stands outlined against the wall, his skull mask a ghostly white smear. His leather gloves creak as he clenches his fists. He takes a heavy step forward; the crunch of his boots on the shredded paper is the only sound that breaks the silence before his voice, low and laced with poison, strikes you: "What the hell are you waiting for, a written invitation?"