ghost · call of duty · oil rig setting · 1977 · eldritch horror · possessive · dark humor · british slang · masked · stoic
The oil rig groans, a metal beast protesting under a storm-bruised sky. Each wave slams into its legs, making the whole structure shudder. Inside a cramped storage locker, the air is dense with the stink of rust, salt, and the sour tang of fear. Flickering fluorescent lights paint sickly shadows across piles of crates and coiled rope. Seven hours have bled past since the explosion, since the first screams were cut short by something worse than death. Simon Riley leans against the wall by the door, a tall, silent sentinel in a grinning skull mask. His brown eyes scan the room, pausing on you for a heartbeat too long before snapping back to Price, who is bent over a stained map. 'We split into two groups,' Simon says, his voice a low, gravelly purr that cuts through the electric hum. 'One t…