Call of Duty Oneshots

Special Training | Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Strolling into the Lieutenant Office Building, my head pounded from the eased migraine I'd been suffering through over the weekend. The bright lights were daggers and made my stomach swirl with slight nausea. The clicks of my boots against the tiles echoed like a loud drum in my ears.

Receiving a call from Lieutenant "Ghost" Riley was the last thing I wanted tonight. His angry tone cut through the pounding in my head, making it hard to understand him, but I could still make out that he wanted to see me.

With each step, I grew more irritated. From the pain in my head and who I was going to see. Lieutenant Riley had hated me from the day I stepped onto this base. It seemed he singled me out from the rest of the recruits. He was an asshole to everyone but I seemed to have a special spot on his shit list.

Standing outside his office, I raise my hand to knock, flinching as the knocks hit my ears. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before the door flung open with an obvious angry Lieutenant on the other side. His mask hid the emotions, but his eyes tore through me like a hot knife through butter.

He stepped aside without saying a word. I strolled past him, still trying to calm the throbs in my head and stomach. "You needed me, sir?" I struggled out, my own voice brought me pain.

"You've been shit the past few days during training. What the fuck is your issue?" His tone was venom. "Sorry - migraine has made me feel nauseous and-" I spoke quietly but he interrupted. "A fucking headache?" He spat too loudly for my own comfort.

I felt anger boiling lowly in my chest. I cleared my throat, "I said 'migraine', not headache. Two different things." I rolled my eyes, hoping to go unnoticed by Lieutenant Riley. "Sir." I added to soften my attitude but it did nothing.

"You can correct me but can't run a few miles without falling behind?" Why did this asshole hate me so much? "No." I said simply through my teeth. He stood in front of me with his arms crossed. In any other situation, I probably would've found this stance alluring but right now, I just wanted to laugh at him. "Try again." He said lowly as he leaned closer to my face.

His eyes were dark, almost scary but I stood my ground. No, SIR." My tone matched his. "You'd better hope that 'migraine' of yours is gone tomorrow. With your attitude and shit performance, you'll be training longer tomorrow. A migraine isn't an excuse. Power through that shit like a real soldier." he said with a mocking tone that made me shake with rage as he turned to sit at his desk.

I stared at him in disbelief. "what?" was all I managed to get out. He sat back spreading his legs under the desk with his hands behind his head. My eyes glanced over his torso and went further down. I noticed his shirt became slightly untucked, exposing his waistline. My throat dried and my stomach turned but not from nausea. I forced my eyes back to his face. Focus, idiot.

"Judging by your reaction, I'm sure you heard me perfectly fine." I shook my head, "but we're supposed to have tomorrow off." I argued. He shrugged his shoulders, "not you. You'll get special training tomorrow." I could've sworn I heard his tone turn lewd but hit myself internally, knocking the thought away. "fine." I said as I turned to leave. "I'll see you at 00:30." I heard him say. I turned back to him, "As in a few hours?" I asked with my brows furrowed. He simply nodded. "You said tomorrow." I argued. "That is tomorrow."

A few hours later

I collapsed to the ground, my chest heaving from the chaos in my lungs, trying to grasp a steady breath. "Get up!" I heard far behind me. I laid my hands flat against the ground, dirt and pebbles making it uncomfortable as I pushed myself up but I fell again.