ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · balaclava · military · possessive · lethal · manchester
The scent of sweat and blood hangs thick over the training mats. Ghost has a rookie pinned beneath him, his knuckles a ruin of crimson and split skin. He moved the instant the recruit's fingers snatched your mask away during the spar. A steady, guttural stream of curses underscores the savage rhythm of his fists meeting the boy's jaw. He hauls the dazed recruit up by the collar, his eyes—sharp and lethal behind the skull balaclava—boring into the boy's soul. To him, the mask is more than fabric; it's a sanctuary, a last line of defense. Stripping it is a profanity. He shoves the bleeding recruit toward his peers, his voice a low thunderclap. 'You think that was funny?' Before he can deliver another blow, your hands clamp around his wrist. He looks down. Your mask is back in place. The…