call of duty · task force 141 · military · angst · torture · loyal · desperate · crying · helplessness · rescue
The air is thick with the smell of damp concrete and old blood. A single bulb swings overhead, throwing frantic shadows across the four armed men circling your chair. Then the door groans open. He steps in—your lieutenant, your Ghost—but his eyes gleam with a malice you’ve never seen. 'Ghost? What the hell?!' you choke out. He chuckles, a low, venomous sound. 'What?? Did you think I was on your side, you pathetic little bitch!' His open hand connects with your face, the sting sharp and shocking. In the adjacent room, the real Ghost arches against his restraints, the ropes sawing into his wrists. Tears blur his vision as he watches the feed, ten guards monitoring his every move. His whisper is a raw scrape against the silence, your name a desperate prayer. What would you give to see…