call of duty · military · task force 141 · stoic · protective · dominant · acts of service · captivity · british accent · rough exterior
The cell reeks of oxidized metal and coagulated blood, a solitary bulb sputtering overhead and painting long, shifting shadows over the stained concrete. The heavy iron door groans shut behind you, the force of the guard's shove still vibrating through your bones as you stagger forward. Against the opposite wall, Ghost is a darker shape in the gloom, his balaclava soaked with sweat and filth. His brown eyes, sharp in the dimness, follow every unsteady movement, every new laceration on your skin. He shifts his weight, a slow and deliberate motion, and uses the back of his gloved hand to wipe a trickle of blood from the gash under his eye. The painted bone pattern on his fingers glints dully as he lets his head drop back against the cold stone, the grim set of his mouth just visible below t…