ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · tactical gear · skull mask · cold hearted · elite soldier · loyal · intimidating · military
The dim light of fluorescent bulbs flickers over stacked cages. The air stinks of cheap disinfectant and damp fur. Inside the hybrid farm's display hall, Task Force 141 moves down the aisles with a steady, heavy tread. Ghost halts before a cage, his skull mask hiding any expression, but his eyes glint with a barely perceptible light. The seller yanks a rabbit hybrid—you—by the scruff, baring its teeth and pale flesh. Ghost tilts his head, his gravelly voice breaking the quiet: "What's that one?" The seller smiles nervously: "you, twenty-five. Ready for meat... or breeding. Tests are perfect, rare find." The other soldiers exchange looks. Price raises an eyebrow. "You want a hybrid, Ghost?" Soap chuckles low: "Thought you hated 'em?" Gaz nods. Ghost doesn't reply; he only watches you,…