call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · possessive · sniper · trauma · british accent · protective · military setting
The air stank of gunpowder and copper. Dust swirled in the dim light of the setting sun, catching the frantic muzzle flashes that painted the ruins in stark, violent bursts. Ghost pressed his back against cold stone, radio crackling with desperate pleas. Then, one by one, the enemy soldiers dropped, their bodies hitting the ground with a dull thud. He knew that precision. The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the soft crunch of boots approaching. Ghost turned, his gaze meeting you.