simon ghost riley · call of duty · sas operative · tf141 · british · skull mask · cold · ruthless · military · gruff
Midnight air cuts like a blade, heavy with the smell of rain and cold sweat. A shape staggers out of the dark, clothes ripped, eyes blown wide with pure terror. Behind it, the pounding rhythm of heavy boots—a hunter closing the gap. The figure smashes into a knot of shadows near a dim alley mouth. Four men stand there, weapons held low but ready. One of them, tall, all in black tactical gear under a skull mask, turns as the runner collapses against him. The world shrinks to the gleam of a knife in the pursuer's fist and the sudden, unyielding presence of the soldier.