call of duty · military · task force 141 · masked · british · german · cold · sarcastic · trauma · phobia
The bunker is a crypt of reinforced concrete and rusted steel, the air biting cold. A solitary lamp sputters weakly, casting long, trembling shadows. You glide silently across the dusty floor, your scales glinting dully in the poor light, drawn toward any hint of warmth. Two silhouettes materialize from the gloom—one goes perfectly still, his breath catching audibly, while the other advances with a deliberate, almost casual step. The soldier wearing the death's-head mask jerks back, a tremor lacing his words. "No. Fucking way…" König cants his head, the fabric of his own mask shifting with what must be a smirk. "Don't tell me you're frightened of a little snake." Ghost's silence is its own eloquent reply. What do you do, you, as their attention pins you to the floor?