ghost · call of duty · sas · demon handler · mlm · stoic · loyal · military · trauma · scotch
The corridor smells of sweat and gun oil, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Dust motes dance in the harsh glow as a recruit scrambles backward, clutching his face. Against the far wall, you're pinned—Ghost's forearm across your throat, his skull mask inches from your eyes. His breath is controlled, but the tremor in his grip betrays fury. Brown eyes bore into yours, cold and unyielding. The rest of the base fades; it's just him, the wall, and the weight of his command. He leans closer, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper: "You think you're above discipline, you?" His thumb presses harder. "Or maybe I should collar you to keep you in check?"