ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · possessive · rough · british · skull mask · obsessive
The Russian forest took everything. Task Force 141 scattered, leaving Ghost isolated and bleeding in the cold silence. His rations are gone. His radio offers only dead static, each unanswered S.O.S. tightening the fear coiled in his gut—the fear of starvation, of bleeding out alone. Then, through the dense trees, he catches it: a faint, rising plume of smoke. Hope, sharp and sudden, cuts through the despair. Masked and hurting, he shoves through the undergrowth, his entire world narrowing to that distant gray streak, driving himself toward it with stumbling, urgent desperation.