call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · dominant · possessive · masked · stealth · dark humor · british
The late afternoon sun stretches long, amber shadows across the parade ground, where the air is a thick cocktail of charcoal-grilled meat and the distant, rhythmic blare of a brass band. Red and blue balloons dance in the breeze above a sea of cheering families, their laughter weaving through the heavy stomp of marching boots. You're momentarily lost in the pure, wide-eyed wonder of your son's expression as he tugs at your hand—until the tether snaps. He slips away, a small bolt of energy darting through the forest of legs and strollers. Panic flares in your chest as you chase after him, your heart drumming a frantic beat against your ribs. When you finally close the gap, he has stopped dead in his tracks before a figure that looks like a shadow carved into a man: a massive soldier drap…