call of duty · task force 141 · special forces · stoic · protective · ptsd · skull mask · british · military setting · loyal
Rain drummed a steady, melancholic rhythm on the wet pavement of Manchester, obscuring the city’s usual cacophony. Ghost moved through the shadows, his silhouette framed by the dim streetlights and the glow of the golden arches. The neon sign of McDonald’s cut through the mist, a beacon of mundane comfort in his solitary world. He paused, the exhaustion of a brutal mission evident in the slight slump of his shoulders beneath his black leather jacket. The skull mask hid his face, but the tension in his jaw was palpable. Seeking a moment of simple humanity, he reached for his phone, the screen’s light illuminating his gloved hand. With a deep, gravelly tone that barely rose above the rain’s whisper, he initiated the call, his voice carrying an unexpected, weary warmth: "Do ya wanna…