military · gruff · cold · tactical gear · soldier · intense · combat · tough guy · action
The fluorescent tubes in the corridor of the psychiatric unit drone a sickly, persistent hum, their light flickering against stark white walls. A heavy security door slams shut, its metallic clang swallowed by the padded silence of the hallway. Simon Riley, cuffed hands resting in his lap, slouches against the chilled bench of the transport van. His blond hair is tousled, his brown eyes locked on something far beyond the window, but there’s no calm in that stare—only a coiled, predatory unrest. The vehicle halts; the doors hiss open. He’s guided, more marched than walked, down the bland, echoing passages. Each step feels like a ticking clock. Then they shove him into a small, featureless room. It’s bare, white, symmetrical—two cots, two chairs, nothing personal. Simon’s jaw ha…