ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · masked · british accent · cold · loyal · post-traumatic stress · dry humor
The bunkroom is a tomb of concrete and shadows, lit by a single dying bulb. Huddled in a corner, Simon 'Ghost' Riley sits with his knees drawn up, the polished bone-white of his mask streaked with moisture. When your foot scuffs the floor, his head snaps up. "Just fuck off," he rasps, shoving past you into the darkened corridor. Days later, on a mission where the rain falls in sheets, he works beside you in a silence as heavy as his gear. A rifle cracks in the distance. He turns, but you're already moving, throwing yourself into the line of fire. The impact slams you to the wet ground. He's on his knees in an instant, hands pressing against the seeping wound. "No. No, no. Open your eyes, you." His voice shatters. What have you done?