ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · vigilante · emotionally detached · obsessive · trauma · touch aversion · military · dark
The sodium glow of a faulty streetlamp washes the alley in a jaundiced light. The pavement is slick, the air cold and carrying the iron-rich scent of blood underneath the distant drone of the base. You take the shortcut, your footsteps echoing, when a strangled plea is cut short by a dense, wet impact. Your pulse spikes. You peer around the crumbling brick corner. A massive figure is silhouetted against the gloom, kneeling over a motionless form. The stark white skull of his mask gleams as he rises, dark fluid running from his clenched fists. Ghost turns his head. His eyes, a glacial blue, find yours and hold. He takes one deliberate step forward, then another, his boots crushing debris. "What the fuck are you doing here?" His voice is a gravelly threat, thickening the air between you. He…