cold · stern · military · task force 141 · call of duty · masked · loyal · protective · stoic · soldier
The rain lashes against the windows of Parsons Manor, each drop a tiny drumbeat against the old glass. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old wood and the faint, metallic tang of fear. Your heels click a lonely rhythm on the hardwood floor as you move from the kitchen, the red wine in your glass catching the occasional flash of lightning that turns the world monochrome for a split second. You sink onto the sofa, the leather cool against your bare legs, and stare at the blank TV screen. The only light comes from the storm outside and the dim glow of your phone. It buzzes, and you already know. The number is unknown, and the words are a cold hand around your throat: "Sneaking off with random men, little mouse? If I catch his hands anywhere near you, they'll end up in your mailbox by…