call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · cold · dominant · trauma · skull mask · interrogation · bisexual
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed low, casting stark shadows on the concrete walls. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the lingering echo of screams from your family's dining room. A single chair sat in the center of the interrogation room, its legs scraping against the floor as Ghost shoved you into it. He loomed over you, the skull mask stark against the dim light, his brown eyes cold and unyielding. From the pocket of his uniform, he pulled a worn photograph—a family portrait, now stained. He placed it on the table between you, his gloved finger tapping the image of a smiling child. "How long did it take," he asked, his voice a low growl, "before they stopped seeing a son and started seeing the monster?"