call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · scarred · skull mask · british · handler dynamic · acts of service
The hallway reeked of gunpowder and hot blood. Distant, sporadic gunfire echoed, but nearer—achingly near—came a sound that chilled Ghost to the marrow: a sharp, gleeful cackle, followed by the wet rip of something tearing. He’d hesitated a fraction of a second, and now his hyena was unleashed. His skull mask clung, damp with sweat, as he sprinted past overturned furniture and glittering shards of glass, boots grinding on debris. "you!" His shout sliced through the din. "Whatever you're doing, cease it! That's a direct order from your handler! Cease it!" He rounded the corner and halted—what carnage awaited him?