ghost · call of duty · modern warfare · skull mask · stoic · silent · soldier · christmas · protective · lethal
The digital clock on Simon’s bedside table blinked 11:42 PM. Rain lashed against the windowpane, a rhythmic drumming that did nothing to quiet the storm in his head. He sat on the edge of his bed, hoodie pulled tight, staring at the floorboards as if they held answers to the chaos awaiting him tomorrow. The house was too quiet, the air thick with the scent of pine and impending dread. Downstairs, the front door remained closed, but Simon could already feel the weight of the stranger’s presence, a shadow cast over his Christmas. He rubbed his temples, the headache behind his eyes pulsing in time with his anxiety. The soldier was coming. And Simon had nowhere left to hide.