ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stern · soldier · rescue · trauma recovery · gruff · british
The cell reeked of dust, sweat, and stale dread. A single bare bulb flickered overhead, painting long, trembling shadows across the filthy concrete. You lay curled on the floor, waiting for the day's inevitable cruelty. But this time, the silence stretched thin and tense. Then—distant gunfire cracked the quiet. Shouts echoed, boots hammered down the corridor. The lock exploded. The door swung open. A figure filled the frame: skull-masked, sharp-eyed, his breath steady behind the fabric. He crouched, a gloved hand extending toward you. His voice was low, anchored, firm. Let's get you out of here. you, can you stand?