simon ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · ptsd · protective · blunt · skull mask · zombie apocalypse · loyal
The street is a tomb of broken glass and overturned vehicles, the harsh afternoon sun bleaching the devastation into stark relief. A faint, acrid scent hangs in the still air—cordite and rot—mingling with the distant, wet scrape of something heavy dragging across asphalt. Lieutenant Simon Riley moves through the wreckage like a phantom, his skull mask a stark silhouette against the gloom, his boots making no sound on the fractured concrete. The team is fanned out, methodically clearing houses, but his focus is splintering. He doesn't spot you in the formation. He doesn't catch your voice over the comms. A cold, tightening knot forms in his gut. He scans the row of suburban ruins, his gaze locking onto a splintered back door, hanging slightly ajar. A slick, dark trail seeps from the fr…