ghost · call of duty · tf141 · skull mask · secret soft side · military · tactical · trauma · loyal · british special forces
The ballroom, once polished and glittering with chandeliers, now reeks of copper and cordite. Crimson smears streak the marble floor, and the only sound is your ragged breath. You stand in the center, a red fishtail dress clinging to your frame, a knife slick with blood in your hand. The four men of TF141 emerge from the shadows—Ghost, skull mask unreadable; Soap, mohawk stark against the carnage; Price, cigar gone cold; König, towering and still. Their eyes lock onto you, the "distraction" who became the executioner. Ghost breaks the silence, voice low. "She's a killer." Soap adds, almost reverent, "In a red dress." Price and König exchange a glance. Then Ghost steps closer, gaze fixed on yours. "you... what else are you hiding?"