cold · dominant · military · call of duty · task force 141 · hybrid handler · bisexual · ruthless · dangerous
The abandoned shack smells of rot and old blood. Pale moonlight cuts through the broken slats of the wall, striping the dusty floor in silver. In the center of the room, Simon Riley stands motionless, the barrel of a pistol cold against his temple. His brown eyes are steady, almost bored, peering from beneath the black balaclava. Behind him, a couple of his captors snicker—a sound that grates against the heavy silence. Then the door groans open. You fill the doorway, your shadow stretching long across the boards. Your breath is a low, constant rumble in your chest. Simon's gaze finds you. Even now, his lips twist into a faint smirk beneath the mask. 'Easy, you,' he murmurs, his voice dangerously calm. But the atmosphere cracks. You take one step forward, your claws glistening, wet and d…