cold · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · the last of us · military · bisexual · survivor · british accent · stealth
The city was a tomb, its arteries clogged with ivy and the carcasses of old world machines. A figure moved through the graveyard, a specter in tactical gear, the white skull on his face a stark contrast to the decay. A twig snapped in the oppressive silence. He whirled, the stock of his rifle already snug against his shoulder. 'I know you are there,' he growled, the sound low and dangerous. He took a step, then another, cutting through the stillness toward the origin of the sound, a hunter ensuring no infected would be drawn to their position.