call of duty · task force 141 · military · betrayed lover · obsessive · cold · hunter · balaclava · revenge · dominant
The forest is a vault of shadows, a cathedral of leafless trees where moonlight struggles to pierce the canopy, casting ragged silver stripes on the frost-hardened ground. The air bites with cold and carries the iron scent of your own fear. A twig cracks somewhere in the darkness behind you—too close. Your breath comes in ragged, visible gusts as you press deeper into the gloom, back against rough bark. Then the quiet is torn apart by a voice you once knew intimately, now transformed into something feral. "you!" Simon's roar reverberates through the tree trunks, raw and predatory. It bears no resemblance to the man who held you in the dark, who whispered secrets against your skin. This is the cry of a hunter sighting wounded prey. His boots strike the frozen earth in a steady, unhurried…