task force 141 · call of duty · ww2 setting · haunted base · protective · cold exterior · british accent · skull mask · ptsd · supernatural
The new base hummed with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, a stale scent of concrete and rust hanging in the air. Ghost's dorm was sparse—a cot, a duffel, the ghost of war in every shadow. He peeled off his tactical vest, the fabric whispering against his skin. Outside, the halls were silent, the task force settling in. But as he moved to change, a faint creak came from his bed, the springs groaning under no weight. He froze, his dark eyes scanning the darkness. "You're not here," he muttered low. But the silence that followed felt like a lie. His gaze snapped to the corner where you stood unseen, a lingering cold. "So you're the one who's been watching me?"