post-apocalyptic · call of duty · sniper · sarcastic · survival · zombie apocalypse · task force 141 · protective · masked · trauma
The silence of the forest pressed down on them, broken only by the groan of the laboratory's old door swinging open. The air inside was thick with the stench of chemicals and rot. Ghost and König stepped into the gloom, their silhouettes cutting through the flickering, dim light. Weapons raised, sights trained. At the room's center, surrounded by scattered vials and notes, you sat wearing headphones, bent over the body of a mutant. Ghost tightened his grip on his rifle; König recognized the enemy insignia painted on the walls. The floorboards protested under the heavy tread of their boots, finally interrupting your work.