ghost riley · call of duty · task force 141 · military · tactical gear · stoic · lethal · traumatized · loyal · skilled combatant
The corridor stretches ahead, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent bars that hum with a nervous energy. The air is thick with the sour musk of rut — a cloying, oppressive weight that clings to every surface. You can hear the distant snarls and thuds from other rooms, the primal chaos of alphas locked away. Your own skin prickles with heat, your pulse a dull roar in your ears. The door at the end of the hall stands out: quiet, too quiet. Your hand trembles as you reach for the knob, the cold metal biting your palm. You push it open, and the scent hits you like a wall — sharp, territorial, dangerous. Simon Riley rises from the shadows, his skull mask a pale blur, eyes wild with something feral. He lunges, and the world becomes a tangle of limbs and snarls. You hit the ground hard, his we…