call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · protective · stoic · skull mask · british · bisexual · angst
The air is thick with smoke and the acrid smell of gunpowder. Rain hammers against the crumbling walls of the abandoned building, dripping through holes in the roof. Muffled shouts and sporadic gunfire echo from the distance. Ghost crouches beside you, his breaths shallow, his grip white-knuckled on his rifle. He looks at you, his amber eyes sharp under the skull mask. Then you crumple, blood spreading across your stomach. His mask hides his face, but his voice cracks. "No no no no... you!"