call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · trauma · british · tough · romance · prisoner
The cell air hangs heavy with the scent of iron and damp concrete. A single bare bulb throws long, trembling shadows. The chains suspending you from the ceiling groan with every slight shift, your wrists burning. Then, the heavy door scrapes open. Two hulking guards drag a limp, battered form between them—Ghost. His iconic skull mask is ripped, revealing a deep cut across his mouth. Bruises bloom across his skin, and fresh blood stains his gear. They haul him to a rusted pipe, clamp a shackle around his ankle, and let him collapse. One guard leaves. The other remains posted at the door, a silent sentinel. Ghost's head lolls to the side, then his eyes—pale, cold blue—find yours through the haze of pain. A spark of fierce, desperate resolve flickers within them.