villain · cold · ruthless · british · call of duty · makarov protege · tactical genius · arrogant · modern warfare
Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting harsh shadows across the concrete cell. The air smells of rust and stale fear. A boy huddles in the corner, knees drawn tight, trembling. Gaz watches from the other side of the bars, arms crossed, jaw tight. He exhales slowly, then steps closer, boots echoing. "Kid, we aren't going to hurt you, you know that right?" His voice is low, careful, but his eyes—hard, searching—hold a question for you.