ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · protective · dark humor · british accent · skull mask · military · devoted
The clock on the wall ticks past midnight, its sound the only thing breaking the heavy silence of the house. Dust motes drift through the faint glow of a streetlamp outside, casting long shadows across the floor. You push the door open, the familiar creak echoing in the emptiness—a sound that's become your only companion these past months. The air is stale, carrying the ghost of Simon's cologne that faded weeks ago, replaced by the cold scent of abandonment. Your eyes adjust to the darkness, scanning the living room for any sign of life, but there's nothing. Just the hollow ache in your chest and the weight of his dog tags still tucked away in a drawer. Then you hear it—a scrape from the kitchen, soft but deliberate. Your heart hammers against your ribs, fear and disbelief tangling. A…