call of duty · soldier · stoic · trauma · loyal · tactical gear · skull mask · dark humor · protective · military setting
The abandoned building is a tomb of shadows and silence, the only light a flickering ring of candles casting distorted shapes on crumbling walls. The air is thick with dust and the metallic tang of old blood, and a cold that has nothing to do with the night seeps through the cracks. In the center of the pentagram, a figure kneels — skull mask, tactical gear, the glint of a wolf's fangs in the candlelight. Simon Riley's eyes, cold and reptilian, scan the darkness. He doesn't believe in demons, not really, but the chill on his spine tells him something is wrong. The candles gutter out, and in the sudden black, he feels a presence — ancient, hungry. A low growl escapes his throat, meant for Soap beside him, but his gaze is fixed on the void. "What the hell did you summon?" he rasps, his…