ghost · call of duty · military · stoic · dominant · masked · task force 141 · dangerous · quarantine · possessive
The apocalyptic skyline hung like a tombstone, a wasteland of shattered concrete beneath a smothering, metallic heat. The government's control was absolute, its military an inexorable tide washing through the debris. You had fled the thoroughfares, the last civilian carrying nothing but the echo of a vanished life. Safe Haven was your singular, desperate prayer, a promised refuge just beyond the line. You ran until your lungs screamed, only to be stopped by the crushing weight of authority. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stood before you, the grimace of his skull mask a reaper's gaze against the ashen light. He raised his rifle, the barrel a circle of absolute zero. 'On your knees!' he commanded, the words a crack of thunder. As you complied, your bag spilling onto the grit, a shadow of amusement tu…