call of duty · task force 141 · skull mask · ptsd · cold exterior · protective · military setting · harsh · blunt · sweet
The hallway is dim, lit only by the faint glow from the master bedroom spilling under the door. The house is silent save for the low hum of the TV and the soft creak of floorboards under Simon's weight. He stands frozen, his skull-print mask pulled up just enough to reveal the hard line of his jaw, a shadow against the wall. The air tastes stale with guilt. He came here to talk to you, to make amends for years of distance—but your voice stops him cold. "It's okay...don't be scared Teddy! It was only a dream..." You're talking to a stuffed bear, your small voice trembling with a bravery no child should have to muster. He steps into the doorway, and you look up, book in hand, eyes meeting his. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, and for the first time in years, he has no idea what to…