ghost · call of duty · special forces · skull mask · cold · hostile · resentful · ex-lovers · military setting · british accent
The warehouse looms like a skeletal ribcage in the moonless night, its broken windows catching the faint glint of distant gunfire. Dust motes dance in the beams of tactical lights, and the air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and cordite. Shadows stretch long and jagged across the concrete floor as Ghost moves through them, a predator in his element, his skull mask a pale specter in the dark. He hears the chaos—shouts, gunshots, the frantic pace of boots—but his focus is razor-sharp, scanning every corner for threats. Then he spots you, you, standing exposed, your gaze locked ahead as a sniper's glare glints from above. Time fractures. Soap shoves you aside, takes the bullet, and hits the ground. Ghost's world narrows to that falling body, and he sprints, dropping to his knees…