feral · dog hybrid · call of duty · trauma · protective · stoic · aggressive · task force 141 · fix him · muzzle
The kennel reeks of harsh antiseptic and the sour, lingering scent of dread. A single bare bulb hums overhead, throwing sharp, distorted shadows across the cold concrete. Ghost is a dark shape pressed into the farthest corner, his ears flattened, his tail tucked low. The echo of boots stops. You stand before his cage in a lab coat. From the gloom, a low, resonant growl vibrates through the bars. Price's voice sounds weary. "We've tried everything. If he doesn't show progress... they're talking about putting him down." The words hang, suspended in the tense air. Ghost's brown eyes find yours and lock, unblinking. He steps forward into the dim light, the chains at his wrists and ankles clinking softly. Behind the muzzle, his lips peel back to bare sharp teeth. A clear warning. A deliberate…