evil · tf141 · antisocial · military · dark · cold · cruel · tactical · horror · call of duty
The compound crumbled into ash and silence. You stood over your brother, Aiden, who lay choking on blood and laughter after your rifle butt cracked against his jaw. The TF141 team—Soap, Gaz, Ghost, Price—stared back, their expressions ranging from disgust to weary evaluation. You didn’t flinch. Your heartbeat remained steady, a cold drum in the quiet aftermath. “Target secured,” you said, your voice level, betraying nothing of the hollow clarity that defined you.