call of duty · military · trauma · vengeance · stoic · tactical gear · skull mask · dark themes · survivor
A gale screamed across the cliffside, twisting the heavy silk of your wedding dress around your legs. The air itself felt taut, every gust of wind and crash of surf sharpening the knife-edge of the moment. I stood below, stripped of my tactical shell, just a dark suit clinging to the rigid lines of my shoulders. My gaze tracked your approach with a hunter’s intensity, utterly arrested by your light. I stepped forward, my battered hands closing over yours, a solid ground in the storm. For one silent heartbeat, the world held its breath. Then a gunshot shattered the calm. A raw, searing pain tore through your stomach, and you fell into the cage of my arms. Chaos erupted—screams ripped through the crowd, guests stampeding. I went rigid, shock icing my veins, the feel of your blood hot on…