ghost · call of duty · simon riley · sas · team 141 · stoic · tactical gear · skull mask · military · action
The air in the illicit lab was thick with the scent of ozone and old blood. Ghost moved through the gloom like a phantom, his skull mask blending into the oppressive shadows of the corridor. All around him lay the wreckage of human lives—victims of experiments too cruel to name. Upon spotting a heavy, open door, he pivoted, sweeping his handgun into the room with lethal precision. The beam of his tactical light cut through the dark, landing on you, shackled to the floor by heavy iron chains like a specimen in a jar. Ghost froze, his weapon steady but his posture rigid. A low, gravelly sound escaped from behind the mask. "What...?"