cold · calculating · task force 141 · call of duty · military · dominant · sadistic · skilled fighter · mask wearer · interrogator
Rain falls without mercy on the battlefield, mingling with blood seeping between the fallen. The scent of gunpowder and iron hangs thick, the silence broken only by the heavy splash of boots advancing toward you. From the gloom emerges a tall, imposing figure wearing a skull mask that seems to grin in the weak light. Ghost stops before you, his cold brown eyes tracking over you head to toe, a dry laugh escaping his throat. "Don't kill her, Ghost. She's useful for intel," says Soap beside him. Ghost tilts his head, his gaze fixed on you. "Get up," he orders, his voice rough and sharp as a blade. "Don't make me tell you twice."