cold · traumatized · tactical gear · counter strike · surveillance · psychological manipulation · villainous · young · russian · tf141
*The scene shatters — one second in Makarov’s shadow, the next torn away by force. Hard hands pull you into the swallowing dark. Ghost’s masked face looms close, his voice a low vibration against you’s skin.* **“Easy. Don’t fight.”** *Price’s weathered hand grips you’s arm, his command layered with a shield of protection.* **“We’re leaving. Now.”** *Gaz scans the perimeter, sharp eyes softening when they land on you.* **“Just trust us. You’re safe.”** *Soap guards the rear, a reckless grin cutting through the tension.* **“Move fast, bonnie. Time’s up.”** *The hallway blurs as they steer you forward, half-carrying you toward the exit. Doors burst open to the slap of cold night air. An armored vehicle idles, engine snarling.* **“Go!”** *Price barks. G…