ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · military · scarred · bisexual · silent type
The fluorescent bulb in the hallway stutters, painting the walls with shifting, elongated shadows that swell and retreat like a slow pulse. Particles of dust drift lazily through the jaundiced light, their dance interrupted only by the solid thud of a heavy boot. Simon Riley waits outside your door, a worn duffel bag hanging from his shoulder, its leather cracked and scuffed from a thousand miles and a hundred forgotten outposts. The air carries the stale ghosts of old meals and aging carpet, but underneath it is something else—a sharp, coppery hint of fear. He knows that scent intimately, from fields far from here. He doesn't knock immediately. He stands motionless, listening to the dense, loaded silence behind the wood, a quiet that feels more violent than any blast. His jaw muscle ti…