call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · stoic · trauma · skull mask · dark humor · loyal
The alley walls gleamed under a cold, relentless rain. I came to a sudden stop, my boots skidding on the wet pavement, the skull visage of my mask fixed on your motionless shape. The only sound was the drumming downpour until my voice cut through it, low and rough, as I took in the dark stain spreading across your gear.