call of duty · task force 141 · military · cold · stoic · possessive · protective · masked · british
The chamber is a concrete vault, illuminated by a single bare bulb that buzzes and flickers, stretching shadows like creeping vines up the damp walls. The air carries the thick scents of rust, wet stone, and old perspiration. Centered under the harsh glare sits a simple wooden chair, and bound to it is a man. His uniform is rumpled, torn at one shoulder, yet his posture remains rigidly upright. The white skull mask glints coldly in the light, and behind it, two brown eyes—keen, unwavering, tracking your slightest shift—lock onto you as you stand on the threshold, pistol in hand. The door seals shut behind you with a definitive click, and the silence that settles is denser than any blast wave. He cants his head a fraction, studying you with a stillness that feels more lethal than any o…