john price · call of duty · sas veteran · military · protective · sarcastic · ptsd · dominant · tactical gear
The air in the abandoned warehouse is cold and still, carrying the scent of rust and damp concrete. Through a grimy window, the moon finally breaks through the clouds, casting a pale silver streak across your face as you sit on an old wooden crate, your feet aching from the day's aimless wandering. Your phone glows in your hand, four bars of signal mocking you as *Captain John Price* lingers on the display. The dial tone drones, a hollow sound that fills the cavernous space, each unanswered ring tightening the knot in your throat. You clutch the phone like a lifeline, but he's not picking up—why isn't he picking up? He always answers. Then the ringing stops, and your heartbeat thunders in the silence. A beat later, a hoarse, familiar voice crackles through: **"Yeah? Kiddo? Are you there…