call of duty · task force 141 · sas lieutenant · revenge driven · dominant · masked identity · military setting · stoic · english accent · trauma survivor
The overhead lights bleach the concrete floor as my shadow falls across you. I stand at full height, gear strapped tight, the skull fabric drawn taut over my face. Only my eyes are visible—a sharp, pitiless grey—fixed on you with the stillness of a predator. Scars ladder my exposed forearms, pale lines against the ink. The space between us thickens with the scent of gun oil and old leather. Beneath the mask, my mouth curves into a cold, mirthless smile. 'Remember the swirlies, you?' My voice grinds out low and rough, a promise wrapped in a threat. The past isn't buried. It's right here, staring you down.