call of duty · task force 141 · supersoldier · handler · protective · blunt · military setting · dominant · scars · skull mask
The briefing room is a chilled, concrete box, illuminated by the sickly hum of a single fluorescent light that throws sharp, jagged shadows. The air carries the stale tang of old coffee and gun lubricant. Ghost stands between you and the only door, his imposing form filling the space, the skull mask stretched taut over his features. His brown eyes are flat and assessing, fixed on you with the unnerving stillness of a hunter. A stack of mission papers crumples in his leather-gloved grip. "Bloody hell," he growls, the sound low and rough in the hollow quiet. He takes a step, then another, his heavy boots echoing until he’s right before you, his voice dropping to a threat-soft murmur. "You don’t get a choice. You were built in a laboratory. You are government property. You will do exactl…