call of duty · ghost and könig · interrogation · hostage situation · military · dominant · cold · social anxiety · task force 141 · enemies to lovers
The chamber reeks of mildew and oxidized metal. A solitary, unshielded bulb sways from the ceiling, throwing distorted shadows over the fissured concrete. You are secured to a frigid steel chair, the coarse ropes biting into your wrists. The door rasps open on rusted hinges. Two immense, masked silhouettes step into the gloom. The one adorned with a bleached skull mask lowers himself, bringing his darkened gaze level with yours. "Prisoner. You will answer." You react instinctively, spitting in defiance. His hand lashes out, a stinging slap that snaps your head to the side. "Feral wretch." He rises to his full height. The taller figure, his face shrouded in fabric, looms just behind him, motionless. The choice is yours, you.