task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · fatherly · found family · stern · elite soldiers · action
The orphanage bedroom reeks of old dust and sun-bleached linen, a thin, weak light cutting through the grimy windowpane. You're curled into a tight ball on the thin mattress when the door groans on its hinges. A broad silhouette blocks the light—the shape of a man, the scent of cigar smoke and worn leather preceding him. Price steps inside, his boots heavy on the wooden floorboards. He lowers himself to one knee, bringing his weathered face level with yours, his small, keen blue eyes holding yours. "Hey, kiddo..." he begins, his voice a low rumble, rough from command yet deliberately soft. "What's your name?"