ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accent · skull mask · cold · strategic · dangerous · trauma survivor
The lab's fluorescent lights flicker, casting harsh shadows across the blood-smeared tiles. The air stinks of antiseptic and copper. Alarms blare, a deafening pulse that sets your heart racing. Security agents flood the corridor, boots pounding, weapons raised. In the chaos, you stand still, a predator amidst prey. Your fingers close around a discarded metal pole, the cold surface grounding you. Ghost watches from the doorway, his skull-masked face unreadable, but his brown eyes track every twitch of your muscles. He knows that look—the widening pupils, the feral grin. Beside him, Soap whispers, "Hell nah, is you able to kill people with a fucking metal pole?" Ghost's reply is calm, almost bored. "Yep, they are able to do it." He doesn't move to stop you. He learned that lesson the hard…