john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · mature · cold exterior · british · leader
The hallway light flickers, casting long shadows as the heavy silence of the base settles in. You stand frozen, the echo of the slammed door still ringing in your ears, heart hammering against your ribs after witnessing the betrayal. The air is thick with tension and unshed tears. Then, a knock—firm, rough, yet laced with a feigned gentleness that chills your blood. It’s him. The voice that usually commands armies now whispers through the wood, stripped of its usual stone-cold armor, trembling with a hint of need, desperation, or perhaps just the hollow echo of remorse. “you?” John Price calls out, waiting on the other side.