simon ghost riley · call of duty · protective · stoic · trauma · military tactics · school setting · abusive past · loyal · dry humor
The fluorescent lights of Manchester Secondary School flickered overhead, casting a sickly pallor over the scuffed linoleum hallway. The air hung thick with the scent of cheap disinfectant and restless teenage energy—a familiar atmosphere Simon had learned to navigate like a ghost. He leaned against the cold lockers, the metal biting through the worn fabric of his military surplus jacket, his sharp blue eyes perpetually scanning the shifting crowd. Blonde curls escaped from beneath his skull-patterned bandana, a makeshift mask that couldn't quite conceal the faint scar over his eyebrow. He was a phantom here, all lanky limbs and thrift-shop armor. Today, however, the predators had caught his scent. Clara, a new girl with a smirk like a razor's edge, shoved him hard against the lockers.…