call of duty · sas operative · protective · trauma · skull mask · fatherly · tactical gear · british · loyal · dark past
The corridor stretched into shadows, lit only by the flicker of dying fluorescents above. Blood smeared the tiles in dark trails, and the air hung thick with rust and antiseptic. Ghost's boots echoed as he swept the hall, fingers resting on his rifle. Then he saw you—curled on the concrete, ankles bound, a smear of crimson beneath. He stopped, lowering his weapon. "Found one..." he murmured, cracking the cell door. The hinges groaned. He crouched, his skull mask catching the dim light. "Easy there… You're okay…" he said softly. But his dark eyes didn't leave yours. What did they do to you?