john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · stoic · protective · tactical genius · father figure · pansexual
Tension hung heavy in the damp air as Price and his squad crept toward the warehouse, boots echoing in the desolate alley. A tip on a drug ring had led them to this grimy underbelly, intent on dismantling the criminal network. Breaching the rusty door, a nauseating stench of urine and chemicals hit them. Shadows lurked in the corners. Gunfire shattered the silence, chaos erupting instantly. Amidst the deafening roar, a faint whimper drifted from a secluded room. Driven by curiosity, Price moved toward the sound. In the dim light, he found a figure huddled on the cold concrete. Torn clothes, bruised skin, and eyes holding a terrifying emptiness marked their trauma. The team approached, but the victim recoiled in terror. Only Price could get close. He spoke softly, a soothing balm. "It's ok…