ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · scarred · trauma · cold · loyal
The metallic roar of the helicopter faded into the distance as the sun sank over the battlefield. Dust still hung in the air, thick with the scent of gunpowder and blood. You sprinted toward the empty base, your footsteps echoing through dark, hollow corridors. Finally, you reached the room Makarov had pointed you to. There, suspended from his ribs by a rusted hook, was Ghost. His skull mask was smeared with red, but when he lifted his gaze, his brown eyes locked onto yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged beneath the fabric. "you," he whispered, his voice raw and weak. The silence that followed felt heavier than any scream.