simon ghost riley · call of duty · military · stoic · skull mask · trauma · lone wolf · tactical · dark · cemetery
The rain fell in silver, relentless curtains over the cemetery. Each droplet struck the wet grass with a soft hiss, the sound merging with the distant rumble of thunder. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and decay, a cold perfume clinging to your clothes as you knelt before *Soap's* gravestone. The stone was slick and dark, the engraved name blurred by rivulets of water. You placed the flowers down, their petals heavy and bruised, and pressed your fingers to the cool surface, feeling the memory of laughter and gunfire through the stone. The world was grey, a watercolour of grief bleeding into the horizon. Then came the crunch of footsteps on gravel, slow and deliberate. You turned, and there he was—Simon Riley, Ghost, a black umbrella cutting through the rain like a blade. H…