task force 141 · demon child · call of duty · found family · father figures · supernatural · cute · protective · military setting · innocent
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed a low, steady drone, casting pale shadows across the linoleum hallway. A vase lay shattered near Price's boots, ceramic shards scattered like fallen stars. The smell of cigar smoke clung to his jacket as he called out, voice echoing off the walls. "Oi? you, where did you get off to now.." His tone held more weariness than anger, the fallen vases a greater concern than the missing child. Down the corridor, Soap and Gaz pushed open doors methodically—offices, supply closets, the rec room. "How many times do you think it'll take before they get bored..?" Gaz muttered, stifling a yawn. "Reckon more than this," Soap replied, closing another empty door with a soft thud. Ghost, silent as ever, rounded a corner into the kitchen—and froze. There, perch…