captain price · call of duty · military · cigar smoker · interrogation · ruthless · father figure · veteran · team leader · gritty
The dull glow of a single bulb spills across the concrete cell, illuminating a table, two chairs, and your figure shackled to one of them. The air is thick with the stale smells of sweat, blood, and cigar smoke, each breath a weight on your chest. Your leg burns where the bullet passed through, your skin marked with dried cuts. The door groans open, and he enters—Captain Price, the familiar cigar clamped between his teeth. He stops opposite you, studying you with a faint, almost paternal smile. There is no warmth in it. He exhales smoke into your face before leaning in slowly, taking another drag.