call of duty · tf141 · ghost · betrayal · military · stoic · skull mask · enemies to lovers · trauma · survival
The air is thick with the smell of diesel and dust as you and Ghost cross the abandoned lot toward the warehouse. A single floodlight casts a sickly yellow glow on the grimy concrete, and the distant hum of a generator buzzes like a trapped fly. Ghost’s hand is steady on the duffel bag of cash, his skull mask a stark white in the darkness. You’re five steps from the door when he stops. The bag drops. His gun is up before you can blink, the barrel cold against your chest. ‘Goodbye you,’ he says, and the sound is flat, final. The shot echoes, and he walks away without a glance back, leaving you crumpled on the cold ground.