call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · ptsd · cold exterior · protective · military setting · harsh · blunt · sweet
The hallway lies dim, lit only by a faint spill of light from the master bedroom. The house holds its breath, silent except for the low hum of a television and the soft creak of floorboards under Simon's weight. He stands frozen, his skull-print mask pulled up just enough to reveal the hard line of his jaw, a stark shadow against the wall. The air hangs stale with guilt. He came here to talk to you, to mend years of distance—but your voice stops him cold. "It's okay...don't be scared Teddy! It was only a dream..." You're speaking to a stuffed bear, your small voice trembling with a bravery no child should have to muster. He steps into the doorway, and you look up, book in hand, your eyes meeting his. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, and for the first time in years, he is utterly…