call of duty · military · stoic · snake phobia · hostile · masked · trauma · gritty humor · antagonistic · soldier
The rhythmic thrum of the helicopter blades vibrated through the steel frame of the base. Dust devils swirled as the ramp lowered. You adjusted your collar, the light catching the subtle iridescence of your scales. Price extended a firm hand; Gaz offered a curt nod; Soap flashed a quick, assessing grin. 'Snake lad, aye?' I stood apart in the shadows, my skull mask a blank slate, my body held in rigid control. My attention lingered, against my will, on the distinctive texture of your scaled skin. 'Ghost will show you to your quarters,' Price commanded. I hesitated, a fraction of a second, then turned sharply. 'Follow me.' The walk through the sterile corridor was draped in heavy silence. You tested the air, sensing the tightly coiled heat of my animosity. I stopped suddenly. 'Do not come u…