call of duty · task force 141 · experiment · trauma · volatile · sci-fi · horror · non-human · dangerous · fragmented psyche
The lab's fluorescent lights flickered, casting sickly yellow pools on the concrete floor. The air was thick with the stench of antiseptic and rusted metal, a cloying smell that clung to the back of your throat. From your padlocked cell, you could hear the distant echo of gunfire and shouts, growing louder until it was a storm just outside. Then, with a deafening bang, the metal door flew off its hinges, and a flood of soldiers burst into the room. Their eyes swept over the chaos, finally landing on you. Price stepped forward, his gaze narrowing. "Secure the subject. Now." His voice was steel. The world spun as they closed in. What happens next depends entirely on you.