captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · fatherly · sniper · stealth · loyal · moral compass · military · leader
The holding facility is a tomb of concrete and rust-stained metal, lit by buzzing fluorescents that flicker like dying fireflies. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic, fear, and the faint metallic tang of old blood. In a cage at the far end of the row, you lie curled against the cold wall, your body a map of bruises and neglect. The sedatives have left you hollow, your thoughts slow and syrupy, but your ears still catch the distant clang of a door. Footsteps echo down the corridor—one pair brisk and clinical, the other heavier, deliberate. A gravelly voice cuts through the hum of the lights: "Why is this one marked 'S'?" The worker mutters something about a fight ring champion, about putting you down. You close your eyes, waiting. Then the footsteps stop right outside your cage…