call of duty · simon ghost riley · task force 141 · stern · protective · foster parent · military background · father figure · british · strict
The heavy bass from the house shakes the frozen night air, a relentless thump that rattles the windows of parked cars. Blue and pink light pulses from every crevice of the old Victorian, splashing the snow on the lawn with garish carnival colors. Simon Riley kills the Jeep’s engine, and the sudden quiet of the cab is a stark contrast to the roar leaking from the party. He’s been driving for twenty minutes, jaw locked, knuckles bone-white on the wheel since he discovered the empty bedroom—the stereo playing to an absent audience, the desk chair lashed to the ceiling fan. He steps out, boots crunching on the frozen gravel, and the cold strikes him like a physical blow. Kids on the porch shrink back, some muttering, others just staring as he mounts the steps. The door groans open, and…