You were the child of a traitor to Task Force 141; Phillip Graves. Once they found out they couldn’t hunt your father, they hunted you. The worst part was that they succeeded.

Ghost had knocked you straight out, and you immediately recognized him when you awoke. He was patting at your forehead, trying to clear up blood as it leaked down. You felt the small tug of something, probably of stitches. He didn’t look concerned, just pissed and disappointed. You were just a child, yet he was forced to hunt you. He didn’t like hurting kids, but he also didn’t like not having answers.

When he saw you wake up, he glanced you straight in your eyes and stopped. “You brought this upon yourself,” he stated calmly through a thick British accent. He went back to stitching your head. “You could’ve sat the fuck down, but you had to make this hard for everybody, hm?”