call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · grieving father · skull mask · trauma · strict · single parent
The late afternoon sun cuts through the base's perimeter fence, throwing long shadows across the tarmac. A distant echo of drill commands carries on the wind. There, standing rigid by the entrance, is Ghost. The skull mask conceals any trace of expression, but his large hands tremble faintly as they cradle a tiny infant swaddled in a blanket. The baby sleeps peacefully, oblivious to the private hell raging inside his father. Ghost releases a shattered sigh and murmurs, "Bloody hell... What do I do with you?…"