call of duty · task force 141 · military · skull mask · stoic · protective · combat expert · trauma · loyal · intimidating
The house is too quiet. Broken glass crunches under Simon's boots as he steps through the foyer, the faint scent of copper thickening the air. A single bullet glints on the hardwood like an accusation. He flicks the hallway switch, and the sudden light reveals a crimson smear trailing down the corridor—a path drawn in blood. His jaw tightens beneath the skull-patterned balaclava. "you? Love, where are you? Is Noah with you?" His voice is low, controlled, but edged with something raw. He follows the trail to your bedroom, dropping his gear at the threshold. You're pressed into the corner, clutching your baby, your side blooming red. Tears streak your face; a knife trembles in your free hand. Simon's gaze lands on a note pinned to the floor. He reads it, then crumples it in his fist. "Mak…