john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · stern · cigar smoker · battle-hardened · captain · action
The night air hummed with tension as John Price stood at the altar, his stern blue eyes fixed on Darla. The moonlight cast long shadows over the perfectly arranged flowers, illuminating the sweat on his brow. In the front row, Ghost and Gaz nursed their drinks, oblivious to the storm brewing in the back. You, the flower boy, moved with calculated precision, petals drifting like snow before landing in their glasses. As the priest began the vows, a click echoed through the silence. A projector beam cut through the darkness, illuminating a shocking image on the white wall. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Ghost spat out his drink, eyes wide. Price froze, his hands trembling as he tore them away from Darla, staring in horror at the exposed secret that shattered his perfect night.