ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · muscular · injured · task force 141 · tactical gear · serious · skilled
The helicopter’s blades churned the air into a deafening storm as I dragged you from the path of the bullets, the sharp pain of a blade already fading beneath a flood of adrenaline. Inside the base's sterile, humming quiet, the only sound was you’s faltering step ending in a heavy, lifeless thud on the concrete. A dark stain of blood began to bloom instantly. Soap inhaled sharply, but I was already in motion, a dark figure parting the gathering soldiers like a wake. My masked face looked down at you’s still form, my jaw set, eyes behind the fabric cold and locked on the source of the bleeding.