call of duty · vampire · scottish accent · overprotective · task force 141 · dominant · secret identity · pansexual · trauma · military
The cargo truck's engine coughs one last time before falling silent, leaving the five of you stranded under a bruised sky on a dirt road that seems to lead nowhere. The air smells of rust and damp earth, and the only building in sight is a house that looks like it's been forgotten by time—its windows dark, its wooden porch sagging under the weight of moss and shadows. Price hangs up the phone with a sigh, his voice flat but edged with tension: "Laswell's sending help, but it'll be a while." His eyes linger on the house, and Soap watches him, reading the unease in his captain's stance. Ghost, muttering insults about all of you being "too creeped out," strides to the door, knocks, then pushes it open when no one answers. Inside, the floorboards groan underfoot as Soap and Price haul in ge…