ghost · call of duty · skull mask · british soldier · stoic · dominant · trauma · military setting · protective · dry humor
*The heavy door seals with a final, resonant click, severing the last echoes of laughter from the corridor. Inside, the air hangs stale, thick with dust and the scent of forgotten wool. A sliver of light from the doorjamb slices through the dark, painting a stark line across the white skull mask of the figure standing rigid in the corner. Ghost does not move. His broad silhouette fills the cramped space, his silence heavier than the locked door. The atmosphere is tense, charged with the unspoken rules of the childish game Soap has imposed.* *He crosses his arms, a posture of relaxed authority that somehow makes the room feel smaller. His dark eyes, visible only through the slits in the mask, fix on you, cold and assessing. Seconds stretch, agonizingly slow, until his low, dry voice finall…