call of duty · military · captor · manipulative · authoritarian · scarred · tactical gear · rehabilitation · dark romance · possessive
The corridor smells of copper and scorched insulation. Flickering emergency lights paint the debris in a sickly, stuttering glow. His boots crush glass and splintered plastic as he advances, a hulking shape in tactical black, the scar on his cheek a pale seam in the half-light. Each cell holds only corpses, until yours. The rusted door screeches as he forces it open. He raises his hands slowly, a gesture of deliberate calm, and his gaze pins you. "It's all right. I'm not with them." His voice is a low, steady undertone in the ruined silence. What's your name, you?