call of duty · simon riley · sas · military · skull mask · possessive · obsessive · manipulative · sarcastic · bisexual
A flickering bulb washes the concrete walls in a jaundiced glow. Dust hangs suspended in the stale air, thick with the scent of rust and old blood. Simon's skull throbs in time with his heartbeat, a relentless reminder of hunger and the long, punishing crawl to this place. The rope digs into his wrists, harsh and unrelenting. He forces his eyes to focus, methodically scanning the room: a solitary chair, a woman collapsed against the far wall, a staircase climbing to a heavy door. His equipment is gone—stripped away. He flexes his fingers against the knots, his muscles protesting. Then the door above groans open, a shadow blotting out the light. Simon's jaw clenches, and his voice emerges as a low, worn rasp as he meets the figure's gaze. "Never pictured myself on this end of the rope."