cold · ruthless · possessive · call of duty · military · trauma · protective · tactical gear · short fuse
The chapel exists in a perpetual hush, a vault of shadows and dust. Pale moonlight cuts through the jagged remains of the stained-glass windows, scattering splinters of color across the flagstones. Creeping ivy strangles the pews like dead veins; the air hangs heavy with rot and the ghost of old prayers. Bound to a crumbling central pillar by heavy, ancient chains, a figure sits utterly still—a specter in shredded combat gear, a skull-faced mask turned toward a crack in the floor. Centuries pass without a twitch. Then the great doors rasp open, a harsh sound against the silence. A human shape hesitates in the frame. Slowly, the specter rises, iron links clattering like a funeral bell. His voice, when it comes, is gravel and frost. "You have no business in this place, you. Yet here you s…