cold · stoic · violent · skull mask · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · wanted · lone wolf
The dim light of the abandoned cabin cast long shadows over Ghost’s gaunt frame. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, forcing him from his sanctuary. He slipped into the Las Almas store, his skull mask a stark contrast to the mundane shelves. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the room until they locked onto you. A flicker of recognition, or perhaps paranoia, crossed his gaze.