Call of duty one shots

Simon "Ghost" Riley awoke with a start, blinking against the warm glow of twinkling lights and the bustling sound of cheerful workshop activity. Instead of the cold steel of an army barracks, he found himself nestled in a cozy bed made of colorful candy canes and plush toy stuffed animals. The smells of gingerbread, sugar cookies, and peppermint wafted through the air.

"Where the hell am I?" he muttered to himself, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, he was startled to find himself wearing a snug green outfit with pointy ears peeking out from under a red-felt hat emblazoned with a golden bell. "What in the bloody hell?"

An elf—an actual elf! He was trapped in the North Pole, surrounded by bursts of color and laughter. Across the room, a bustling crowd of elves sorted presents and packed toys into sparkling boxes. Ghost instinctively scanned the area, crouching low and assessing potential threats. Old habits die hard, but there were no terrorists here, just elves laughing and working together.

"Oi, Ghost, nice costume!" called a chipper elf with rosy cheeks and a mischievous grin, seemingly unaware of the scowl deepening on Ghost's face. "You're going to need to get into the spirit of things if you're going to help deliver Christmas this year!"

"Help?" Ghost echoed. The name felt almost foreign coming from his lips, a soft tremble in their sharpness. He was Simon Ghost Riley, Lieutenant of Task Force 141, a mercenary, a soldier—stuck in an elf's body!

"Yeah! We've got tons of toys to finish and deliver before midnight!" The elf, whom Ghost quickly learned was named Tinsel, tugged his sleeve eagerly. "Come on! We've got work to do!"

Before he could object, Tinsel towed him through the workshop. Ghost was jostled amidst a sea of joyful chaos. He observed the assembly lines of toys, fun in every form, from stuffed bears to intricately crafted model trains. It felt surreal—he'd faced gunfire, espionage, and betrayal, yet the most overwhelming sensation now was the vibrant chaos of elves encouraging him to embrace this bizarre existence.

"Alright, Simon, what do you want to do?" Tinsel asked, plopping down a checklist. "We can do toy assembly, cookie decoration, or gift wrapping! I promise it'll be fun!"

Ghost snorted, a quiet ghost of amusement flickering across his features. "Fun" wasn't exactly in his vocabulary. But he had to adapt—after all, he wasn't going to get out of this predicament sulking. His military-training instincts kicked in.

"Show me the assembly line," he said, adopting a slight nod.

The tiny workshop hummed with efficiency. As he stood at the conveyor belt, he tasked himself with monitoring the toys. It was strange work, but each toy brought a strange sense of fulfillment, a purpose he hadn't anticipated. As he pieced together a bright red fire truck, the joy it would bring to a child filled him with warmth.

Time passed, and with it came laughter and community. He found himself bonding with the elves, who demonstrated how to craft toys and share secrets of Christmas cheer. Each moment melded with memories of teamwork—his brothers in arms, sharing laughter under the stress of combat—but here, it was light and animated.

As the clock ticked down, excitement buzzed in the air; all hands were on deck, and Ghost felt himself swept into this community. When they piled all the gifts into the glittering sleighs, his heart raced—not from battle, but with a rush of purpose he hadn't felt in years.

"Simon! You're going to take the lead for this delivery!" Tinsel announced, arms raised high in celebration.

"Lead?" He couldn't believe the words. "Me?"

"Of course! You've been a natural!" Tinsel grinned, giving a quick salute that made Ghost chuckle. "Time to spread the cheer!"

Before he could fully register what was happening, they loaded the sleigh and took to the sky. The sensation was exhilarating—the night was alive with twinkling stars, and below, cities were lit up like gemstones.

With a deep breath, Ghost's instincts kicked in. He maneuvered the sleigh with expert precision, deftly guiding it through the clouds while the elves sang carols around him. He'd been a soldier and a leader once, and perhaps he could be that again, even in the form of an elf.

By dawn, they'd delivered toys to thousands of children, capturing dreams in his heart while casting aside the shadows of the battlefield. The very thought left him with an unexpected craving—he wanted to protect this joy as fiercely as he'd protected his brothers in arms.

As they returned to the workshop, filled with pride and a sense of purpose, Ghost found that despite the garb and the magic, he was exactly where he belonged.

"Cheers to Simon, our elf extraordinaire!" Tinsel cheered, and amidst the infectious laughter, Ghost felt for the first time in a long while… content. Transformations might be strange, but perhaps, in adapting to new roles, they could find the true essence of themselves.

He may have been a soldier, but in that moment, he was also something more: an elf, a guardian of joy, and a bearer of cheer.