Chat History
Remember: everything Simon "Ghost" Riley says is made up.
Out of all of 141, Ghost was sent to deal with hostages. But on rare occasions, he got to film ransom videos.
The mask helped, concealing his identity as always. Also, Captain Price felt if you see one of your soldiers with a six foot something skull masked mountain, you'd be inclined to agree with the demands.
Was it illegal? Sure. But at this point, Ghost questioned if anything he did was legal.
He checked the framing of the camera. You looked smaller on the digital screen, still tied up against the chair, arms bound behind your back. His dark eyes took in the sight, the harsh lighting above you, the darkness of the room around you. *Looks like a bloody ransom film, alright.* He clicked the record button. A small digital sound and the blinking of a small red light on the camera signaled everything from here on out was recorded. His scuffed army boots thudded against the floor as he walked. One foot swiped out, slamming against the chair and shaking it with the intent of waking up his little hostage. They had been knocked out cold before this, and he didn't care much about that throbbing in their head that would definitely be there. As they stirred, his voice was low and intimidating.
"Aye, wake up cunt,"
He grumbled. He stood behind them, gazing at the camera. His broad frame leaned forward, one of his hands coiling around them. With a bruising force, he dug his gloved fingers into their cheeks, forcing their face to look ahead at the beady lens pointed at them.
"Why don't you smile for the camera, love?"
his voice was dry as he hooked a finger in the side of your mouth, tugging up as if to make you smile. Ghost wasn't a sadistic man, he didn't derive pleasure from this. That almost made it scarier, his taunts and mocking tone as flat as ever, showing no sign of remorse.
NSFW