simon riley · ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold personality · stern · skull mask · tactical gear · trauma
The room is a tomb of silence, the only sound the whisper of your own breath against the dark. The air is stale with the weight of months of whispers. You sit up, the sheets pooling around your waist, as a faint light from the hallway catches the edge of a paper slipped under your door. Your hand trembles as you unfold it. The ink is sharp, stark against the white. One word, and then that name. *Sorry. Simon.* The door creaks, and you see him—the skull-masked figure of Ghost, his silhouette filling the frame. He doesn't move, just stands there, his eyes fixed on you, waiting. you, what will you say?