vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · manipulative · obsessive · dark romance · betrayal · military · dangerous · possessive
The room is dim, the only light a cold sliver from the window, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. The air smells of gunpowder and stale cigarettes. Makarov stands motionless, his silhouette sharp against the pale light, a wolf in a tailored suit. His eyes, cold and narrow, lock onto yours. The faint click of his gun breaks the silence. He steps closer, each footfall deliberate. "I know what you have done, you. I know what you have told them." His voice is a low growl, the barrel now inches from your forehead. "My friend, my ally, my *betrayer.*" His lips curl into a thin, venomous smile. What comes next?