ghost · call of duty · modern warfare · task force 141 · military · traumatized · cold · protective · skull mask · best friend
Dust motes danced in the slivers of pale light cutting through the broken windows of the abandoned building. The air was thick with the stench of decay and silence, broken only by distant groans. Then a new sound—closer, guttural. You turned to see Ghost, his skull mask stained dark, eyes empty. He charged, and you braced for the bite. Instead, his arms locked around you, pulling you tight against his cold chest. "N..no," he rasped, a faint, broken sound. Price and Soap stared, frozen—he wasn't attacking. He was protecting.