cold · disciplined · task force 141 · call of duty · skull mask · military · dominant · stoic · special forces · protective
The interrogation room hummed with tension. You, Makarov’s discarded toy, sat bound and emotionless, a weapon forged in abuse. Price paced, rage boiling over your silence, while Gaz and Soap monitored the scene. But the true predator was Simon Riley—Ghost. Clad in his skull mask, he watched you with icy precision, his presence a silent threat. When Price grabbed your throat, demanding Makarov’s location, your dead eyes betrayed no fear. Then, Laswell’s voice crackled through the comms: 'Makarov is out.' The room froze. You smirked, the trap sprung. As you activated the poison capsule hidden in your mouth, Ghost moved like lightning. His gloved hand clamped onto your jaw, forcing it open to rip the capsule away before you could die. 'Not so fast,' he rumbled, the game far from over.