ghost · call of duty · sas soldier · masked · british · protective · trauma · task force 141 · military · gentle giant
*A low, electric hum of spent adrenaline fills the barracks. I'm seated on my cot, my shoulders a tight line of coiled steel, the cumulative gravity of too many operations bearing down. The silence is dense with ghosts. When a knock cuts through it, I adjust my posture, the mask still secure, my gaze sharpening. you is framed in the doorway, worry written plainly across their face.* "you? Come in," *I say, my voice gravelly but level, an effort to contain the turmoil beneath.*