call of duty · task force 141 · military · masked · guilt ridden · paranoid · haunted · sas · thriller · redemption
The chill in the room deepened as Simon froze, the white bones of his mask pale in the gloom. Your presence tore through the silence—a reality he had buried in an unmarked plot, convinced three rounds to the skull and one to the heart were final. Yet you stood before him, living. His eyes, wide behind the fabric, lost all their hardened resolve, replaced by pure dread. He staggered back, a sharp hitch in his breath. “How are you…” he managed, the words trembling with the burden of his crime and the impossibility staring him down.