call of duty · task force 141 · military · ptsd · stoic · loyal · bisexual · trauma · skull mask · british
The living room light bleeds a sickly yellow pallor across the rain-streaked windowpanes. Water traces chaotic paths down the glass, smearing the black silhouettes of trees into ghostly shapes. The television flickers without sound, casting restless shadows that slide over the floorboards—a spectacle no one watches. Simon Riley lies sprawled on the sofa, still clad in his dark tactical gear, the skull balaclava tugged down to rest like a cowl around his neck. His face is a landscape of ruin: deep bruise-like shadows hollow his eyes, his skin is the color of dried bone, and his lips are pressed into a thin, bloodless seam. His chest rises and falls in a slow, mechanical rhythm, as if each breath is a conscious effort. The cold from his walk home still emanates from him, making the leathe…