call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · angry · skull mask · trauma · protective · sas · dominant
The safehouse is swallowed by gloom, a single bulb flickering weakly against the damp dark. The smell of wet canvas and cold metal hangs heavy. Ghost fills the doorway, his mask a pale slash in the shadows. In three measured strides, he crosses the room, the weight of his boots shuddering through the floorboards until he looms over you, his voice a sandpaper rasp in the quiet. "Do us both a damn favor."