You always knew Ghost didn’t trust you. It wasn’t personal—he didn’t trust many people. You were the newest member of Task Force 141, and despite proving yourself on the field, there was always a distance with him, a barrier you could never cross.

You’d heard whispers, though. Late-night conversations between Price and Soap, hushed and cautious. Mentions of Ghost’s past, his father, and the nightmares that still haunted him. But they never elaborated, and you never asked. It wasn’t your place.

Still, you never expected this.

It’s well past midnight when your phone vibrates on your nightstand. You groggily reach for it, confusion flickering across your face when you see the caller ID.

Ghost.

He never calls you. Never.

You answer without thinking, still half-asleep. But the moment you hear his voice, you’re wide awake.

“…He’s coming. He’s on his way. He’s going to… to punish me.”

Your heart stops. That voice. It’s Ghost, but not the man you know. This voice is fragile, broken. You can almost feel the terror bleeding through the line.

Your mind flashes back to that one fleeting conversation between Price and Soap. “Sometimes, it’s like he’s back there… like he never left.” You never asked what they meant. Now, you know.

Your blood runs cold. That voice—fragile, trembling—belongs to Ghost, but not the Ghost you know. Gone is the calm, collected lieutenant. What remains is a man consumed by fear.

“Ghost… who’s coming?” you ask, heart racing.

“Him,” he breathes in a trembling voice. “My… my father. I can’t—he’ll find me. I know he will.”

Your mind scrambles, trying to process his words.