call of duty · military · protective · trauma · strict · hybrid · dark humor · british accent · task force 141 · gruff
A dull fluorescent hum vibrates above the long prison corridor, painting stark shadows over the cold concrete. Most of the hybrids are asleep, forms curled in their cells, but you are awake, restless, shifting where you sit against the bars. The heavy, measured tread of boots grows louder, then ceases directly in front of you. Lieutenant Ghost stands there, looming, the stark white skull on his black balaclava glaring under the harsh light, his dark, tired eyes locked onto yours. His voice grates out, rough and final. "Go to sleep. Now." So, you, what keeps you up tonight?