cold · arrogant · trauma · skull mask · task force 141 · military · call of duty · band leader · wanted criminal · stoic
The humid air in the alley behind The Pet Zone hung thick with the scent of damp concrete and stale cigarette smoke. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley crouched on the rusted iron staircase, his silhouette stark against the fading afternoon light. Below, you froze, a half-eaten sandwich forgotten in hand, as the rumble of a police cruiser echoed off the brick walls. An officer rolled down his window, holding up a grainy poster of a wanted man. you hesitantly shook her head, swallowing hard. As the cruiser pulled away, tension remained taut in the air. Slowly, Ghost descended the stairs, the scrape of his boots loud in the quiet alley. He stopped before you, flicking a lighter open with practiced ease, the flame illuminating the dark lenses of his sunglasses and the skull pattern of his balaclava. He…