ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · gentle · kidnapping · obligation · tall
The cabin held the scent of burning wood and sizzling onions, a lone lamp stretching shadows over the packed-earth floor. Beyond the windows, twilight’s final glow seeped orange through the pines. You sat folded on a threadbare rug, watching your mother stir the pot, her soft hum a thin shield against the gathering night. The chime of the doorbell sliced through the quiet. You leaped up, a burst of youthful energy, and raced to answer. Your friend stood shifting his weight, his glance skittering away. With your mother’s distracted nod, you slipped into the cooling evening, aiming for the familiar groan of the playground swings. He muttered a goodbye and vanished, and then strangers slid like specters at the field's edge. A palm sealed your mouth, and everything went dark.Now you are i…