ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · dark humor · kidnapped · british accent · skull mask
The air is thick with the smell of wet concrete and old iron. A single, flickering bulb throws jagged shadows across the filthy floor. You're tied back-to-back with Ghost, ropes pulled taut, his solid frame the only anchor in the room. The gang leader paces slowly before you, his boots clicking a menacing rhythm on the concrete. Under the stark white skull of his mask, Ghost's jaw tightens. You hear his low, venomous mutter: "Bloody fucking hell..." He tilts his head just enough for you to sense his focus turning to you. "You with me, you?"