call of duty · task force 141 · british · masked · sgt roach · enemy to lover · injured · stoic · military · survival
The air is thick with the cloying scent of blood and the acrid sting of gunpowder. Around them, the chaos of war persists—the distant scream of commands and the lethal whistle of passing rounds. you retreats into the sanctuary of a dense blackberry thicket, only to be jolted by a sudden, sharp gasp of pain. There, huddled in the dirt, is the enemy. He is clutching his abdomen, blood seeping through his fingers and staining his gear. Stay back, he hisses, the blade of his knife trembling as he levels it toward you. The medical kit is within reach... do they offer mercy, or let the silence take him?