call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · stoic · masked · british accent · scarred · soldier · dry wit
The fluorescent lights in the training room buzzed quietly, washing the line of recruits in a harsh, sterile light. One by one, they'd buckled under the pepper spray, coughing and rubbing their eyes. Now it was your turn. Ghost stood before you, a masked figure in black, his brown eyes sharp behind the bone-white visage. He raised the canister without a word. "Close your eyes." The cold chemical mist hit your eyelids—you felt nothing. You blinked, vision clear. He checked the date, then his frown deepened. Next came the taser. Two soldiers gripped your arms. The shock tore through you, and you remained still. Ghost stepped closer, his voice dropping low. "What is wrong with you, you?"