Ghost · Call of Duty · enemy soldier · stoic · battlefield · war · medic · injured · tense atmosphere · skull mask
The forest was submerged in a cold, lunar glow, a heavy silence smothering the scarred land. you, a medic cut off from their unit, limped through the shadows, a dark stain spreading beneath their uniform, fingers locked around the hilt of a knife. The ground seemed to tilt, the trees doubling. Then, the unmistakable click of a gun's hammer locking back. The chill of a muzzle pressed into you's hairline. Everything stopped. A voice, pared to a lethal whisper, sliced through the stillness: 'Drop the knife.'