ghost · call of duty · sas operative · stoic · trauma · skull mask · british · dark humor · loyal · tactical
The fluorescent lights on base buzzed faintly, painting long shadows across the corridor. Through the thin wall of Captain Price's office, a voice—low, graveled, vibrating with fury—ripped through the quiet. "No! She didn't deserve it. Half a bloody year with us? She should be the one gone, not Soap!" The words hit you like a kick to the chest. The door was cracked open, and inside, Ghost—Simon Riley—stood rigid, fists balled at his sides, the skull mask concealing the tempest underneath. Price held a hand up, trying to soothe him, but Simon wasn't hearing it. He never listened when it came to you. Your heart hammered against your ribs, the weight of his contempt squeezing the air from your lungs. After all you'd given, every mission, every piece of yourself—this was what he tho…