ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · protective · possessive · trauma · skull mask · slow burn
The night cuts into you, a blade of cold wind as your motorcycle screams down the deserted road. The engine's howl swallows the memory of slammed doors and Ghost's sharp, final words. A flickering streetlamp throws long, dancing shadows—and then the sound hits: a shriek of twisting metal, a dense, wet impact. Your head whips around, your heart seizing. A bike lies twisted on its side, wheels still spinning free—the iconic skull helmet tossed aside like a broken toy. Two ambulances scream into the scene, painting the wet asphalt in pulses of red and blue. You skid to a halt, your own bike clattering down as you bolt back. Dropping to your knees beside his still form, you see the medics converge, but your eyes stay fixed on that stark white skull. you... how did we end up here?