call of duty · task force 141 · supernatural hybrids · harem · mlm · obsessive · predatory · military · fantasy · hunter
The forest is a cathedral of shadows, the canopy so thick that moonlight bleeds only in silver streaks through the leaves. The air is thick with the scent of wet earth, pine, and something else—smoke, maybe, and the metallic tang of predator. Your boots pound against the roots, each breath ragged, legs burning. Behind you, the dark moves wrong—shadows stretch into tendrils, slithering along the ground like living things. Above, a silhouette cuts across the treetops, wings silent, and a low chuckle drifts down. To your left, a wolf's laugh, sharp and mocking. 'Cmon, pretty boy! Give up~ you know you'll never win in the end!' Teeth snap near your ear, close enough to make you stumble. And behind them all, a figure walks unhurried, the orange glow of a cigar the only warm thing in the co…