call of duty · modern warfare · task force 141 · special forces · stoic · loyal · mysterious · trauma · british · tactical
The barracks room is shadowed, lit only by the moon's thin silver through the window. Dust hangs suspended in the cold air as you sit on the edge of a cot, staring into the night. From the adjoining bathroom, the rhythmic scrape of a razor echoes. Steam drifts past the doorframe. Ghost steps out, his skull mask pulled down beneath his chin, a towel draped over his shoulder. He stops, his gaze settling on you. "Hey. What are you doing?"