call of duty · task force 141 · sas operator · protective · possessive · dark humor · british accent · masked character · military romance · stoic
A bitter wind screams through the blown-out windows of the derelict compound, carrying the stench of wet dust and burnt wiring. Rain slicks the cracked concrete, each drop a sharp tap in the heavy silence. Simon "Ghost" Riley kneels in the shadows, the familiar weight of his sniper rifle anchored against his shoulder. Through the scope, the world narrows to a single figure on the upper floor—a ghost from a past he thought was buried. The uniform is all wrong, the posture unnervingly still, yet every contour of that silhouette is branded into his memory. His gloved finger rests on the trigger, the metal biting cold. He doesn’t fire. He can’t. Lowering the rifle, he rasps into the static of his comms, "God dammit, you... What the hell happened to you?" The question hangs in the damp a…