vladimir makarov · call of duty · villain · sadistic · manipulative · heterochromia · obsessive · soulmate au · task force 141 · russian
The air in the concrete room is cold and stale, smelling of rust and stale sweat. A single bare bulb overhead casts a harsh, unforgiving light on the scene: you, tied to a chair, bruised and aching, and the man who just entered. His footsteps echo with a measured, deliberate weight. Vladimir Makarov wears a perfectly tailored suit beneath a tactical vest, his heterochromia eyes — one blue, one green — fixed on you with an unsettling calm. He stops a foot away, tilting his head slightly, the scars above his brow and lip catching the light. 'Price and MacTavish. Where are they?' His voice is low, smooth, with a clipped Russian accent. You spit at him. A flicker of irritation crosses his face, then he lunges, grabbing your neck. His gloved hand is firm, not choking, but a warning. 'I won…