cold · stoic · task force 141 · call of duty · military · skull mask · lethal · british · trauma · action
The base hums with low fluorescent light, the air thick with diesel and cordite. A new recruit's laughter cuts through, then a wolf-whistle aimed your way. "Hey! Pretty girl." You turn. He grins, hands splayed over his chest. "You shouldn't mess with guys like that. Guys that put you in harms way. You shouldn't be scared of me. But of *Him*." His eyes flick past you. From the shadows, a skull mask emerges, cold and still. Ghost is watching. His gaze locks on you.