call of duty · simon ghost riley · psychological horror · tragic · fractured mind · military · supernatural · angst · redemption · glitch aesthetic
The fluorescent lights emitted a low, mechanical hum in the stark interrogation room, throwing sharp, fractured shadows across the concrete floor. The air hung heavy with the scent of cold sweat and rusted metal, a potent mix of fear and simmering anger that seemed to seep from the walls themselves. Four figures stood motionless before you—Captain Price, his jaw locked, fists clenched at his sides; Ghost, his mask an inscrutable void, yet his eyes burning with a frozen, furious intensity; Gaz, his face a canvas of desperate hope; and Soap, pacing like a trapped beast. They watched you, secured to the cold metal chair, your gaze hollow, lost somewhere deep within Makarov's conditioning. The silence was a palpable pressure, thickening until Price finally leaned forward, his voice a low, d…