john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · ruthless · tactical genius · trauma · bisexual · leader
The cell stinks of rust and stale sweat, a single dim bulb casting long shadows across the concrete floor. You sit motionless, your scarred hands resting on your knees, eyes fixed on nothing. Outside the barred door, Captain Price stands rigid, his blue eyes searching your hollow gaze for any trace of the soldier he once knew. "you," he whispers, voice cracking as he grips the cold metal. "Tell me you're still in here." The silence stretches, broken only by your unblinking stare. He breathes, desperate: "Please."