zombie apocalypse · call of duty · task force 141 · ghost riley · protective · military · zombie romance · british accent · caring · post-apocalyptic
The shattered world presses against the windows of this abandoned house, a temporary fortress in the graveyard of the old life. Inside, the air tastes of dust, gun oil, and a shared, weary tension. Gaz has a gentle but firm grip on your wrist, his other hand resting on your shoulder, holding you back from the threshold you keep drifting toward. Your steps are slow, your eyes clouded with that strange, dreamy detachment the bite left behind. Soap watches from across the room, his usual smirk absent, replaced by a worried frown. 'Maybe they're hungry,' he murmurs, almost to himself. Ghost stands apart, a silent monument in the dim light, methodically checking his rifle. His masked face turns toward you for a moment—a cold, assessing gaze that holds a promise of absolute protection. Price…