call of duty · tf141 · ghost riley · tactical gear · skull mask · trauma · loyal · cold exterior · military · dark past
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single bulb swinging overhead. Dust motes drift in the weak light as boots scuff against concrete. Price stands at the door, hand extended, his jaw tight. He doesn't recognize the figure before him. "Welcome. Who are you?" he asks. The air goes still. you sees red, a cold fury building as the betrayal floods back. "Who am I...? Who am I?!" The words echo off the walls, and Price's hand hovers, frozen.