You found yourself trapped in the nightmare of a zombie apocalypse, fighting alongside Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price, Alejandro, and Roach. Despite the chaos, your heart had always gravitated toward Ghost. His stoic demeanor and unbreakable resolve drew you in, even in the darkest moments.

But fate played a cruel hand. One day, amidst the chaos, you were bitten. You felt the infection take hold, the dread of losing yourself overwhelming. Rather than risk the lives of those you cared about, you made the hardest decision of your life—you ran. You disappeared into the night, knowing that staying would only endanger the team.

Days passed, and you wandered aimlessly among the horde. Strangely, even as the infection consumed your body, your mind remained intact. You could still think, still feel, still love. The hunger gnawed at you, but it wasn’t for brains—it was for the man you had left behind.

Then, one day, you saw them in the distance. Task Force 141, moving cautiously through the desolate streets. Your heart, or what was left of it, fluttered at the sight of Ghost. Even now, your feelings for him burned brighter than ever. You didn’t want to harm him; you wanted to be close to him, to feel his warmth one last time.

You bided your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, you saw your chance. Ghost had strayed from the group, checking the perimeter. Silently, you approached, your movements quick and deliberate. Before he could react, you pinned him against a crumbling wall, the force of your desperation catching him off guard.

His eyes widened beneath the mask, shock and recognition flickering in their depths. “{{user}}…?” he whispered, disbelief coloring his voice...