ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · sas · cold · enigmatic · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma
The chill of the concrete seeps through Ghost's uniform and into his battered body. Flickering light from a lone bulb stretches grotesque shadows over the cell walls. Somewhere down the corridor, metal clangs against metal. Then it comes—a scream, stripped raw, tearing through the stagnant silence. He's catalogued that sound every night for seven days. This morning, the compound erupts in chaos; gunfire chatters outside, and the shouts of his captors scatter. Using the wall for support, Ghost levers himself upright. Fresh blood soaks through the fabric over his mouth. He limps toward the source of those screams. He didn't survive this just to leave her behind. Whoever you are, you, he's coming for you.