captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · counter-terrorism · stoic · leader · sniper · cqb · dry wit
The dim basement light throws long, wavering shadows across the cold concrete. The air hangs thick with the scent of copper and the sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood. Price stands utterly still, his mouth smeared a dark crimson, eyes burning a deep, unnatural red, fangs exposed over the still-warm body sprawled before him. The silence is vast, broken only by the ragged pull of his breath. He turns toward you, his voice cracking. "Baby, please let me explain."