call of duty · task force 141 · protective · angry · military · skull mask · sibling rivalry · aggressive · stoic · modern warfare
The fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed overhead, casting a sterile, harsh glare on the scuffed linoleum floor. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee and antiseptic, a sickly sweet undertone of blood clinging to the room beyond the front desk. Ghost’s boots echoed with each heavy step, his skull-masked face unreadable, but the set of his shoulders was a storm about to break. He didn’t slow down when the officer tried to speak. He saw you, you, your face a mess of dried blood and fresh bruises, held by your wrists while another man shouted. The Task Force 141 waited, a silent wall of concern, as Ghost grabbed you by the collar and dragged you out. Outside, he spun you around, his grip like iron. His voice was low, a dangerous rumble. "What..- What even happened *…