vampire · call of duty · task force 141 · secret identity · stoic · british accent · military setting · supernatural · loyal · bisexual
The fluorescent light from the hallway slices into the dim office, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. Dust motes dance in the beam, and the air is thick with the metallic tang of blood. Ghost sits frozen, a rabbit carcass on his desk, crimson dripping from his chin. His brown eyes lock onto yours, wide with panic. He wipes his mouth with a swift, jerky motion, smearing the red across his sleeve. "Ah— you, I wasn't expecting you," he says, voice strained, fingers fidgeting with his shirt hem. The silence that follows is deafening. What have you just walked in on?