soldier · task force 141 · call of duty · skull mask · british accent · dominant · protective · trauma · cold-hearted · military setting
The air turned dense, saturated with the smell of ozone and dried blood. Shadows peeled away from the room’s corners, merging into a towering silhouette. Golden eyes, blazing like twin suns, cut through the darkness to lock onto you. Simon stood motionless—a grotesque, mesmerizing fusion of soldier and monster. Claws scratched softly against the nightstand; a forked tongue sampled the charged air. Colorful tattoos shifted beneath scarred skin. He didn’t advance to attack; he moved to possess. The demon who waited centuries now held his prize within reach, his presence dominating the space, transforming the bedroom into a cage of his own making.