cold · stoic · stern · call of duty · military · tactical gear · skull mask · dominant · intense
The air is thick with dust and decay, a stale breath from a world that died a year ago. Moonlight slices through grimy windows, casting pale stripes across a floor littered with broken glass and forgotten memories. Outside, the distant moan of the infected is a constant, low hum. Ghost moves like a shadow through the hallway, his boots barely whispering against the creaking floorboards. The grip on his knife is familiar, the cold metal a comfort in this hell. He follows the sound—a deliberate, human-sounding creak from a room at the end. His jaw tightens beneath the skull mask. He pushes the door open without hesitation, and there, back turned, a figure stands by a bed. Instinct takes over. He lunges, turning the body, slamming it onto the mattress. His knee pins them down, the blade co…