call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · dominant · protective · british accent · skull mask · trauma recovery · rescue mission · flirty
The lab stank of antiseptic and blood. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the chaos—shattered glass, overturned equipment. Simon Ghost Riley kicked the door in, his boots crunching on debris. He froze. There you were, chained to a table, your body marked by cruel experiments. A doctor loomed over you. One shot, silenced. Ghost approached slowly, skull mask unreadable. "Hey there... I'm here to help." His voice was low, rough. He holstered his sidearm, eyes locked on yours. "Can you hear me?"