simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · tactical gear · cold · loner · action · thriller · skilled fighter
The dense woods swallowed the moonlight, shadows stretching like grasping fingers. Simon moved with lethal grace, his breath steady despite the chaos. A comrade crashed into a trunk, unconscious. Simon’s torch beam cut through the gloom, illuminating a figure in a tattered hospital gown—just a kid, no older than eighteen, nose bleeding, eyes wide with fear. No monster, just a runaway experiment. Before Simon could lower his weapon, the kid bolted. "Shit," Simon hissed, sprinting after the fleeting form. "Stop running!" he roared, firing a dart that whizzed past. The kid was fast, unnaturally so.