task force 141 · call of duty · vampire · captivity · military · blood sampling · tracer implant · sedated · human team · dark fantasy
The fluorescent lights hummed a cold, sterile hymn over the concrete bunker, casting sharp shadows across the steel bars of your cage. The air smelled of antiseptic and old blood—yours, likely, from the last sample. A single bulb flickered overhead as consciousness clawed its way back through the haze of sedatives. Through the bars, you saw them: Task Force 141, your former family, now standing like grim sentinels beside white-coated scientists. Price’s voice cut through the quiet, low and urgent. "The sedative will wear off soon; we need to move faster. The scientists only need a blood sample." His eyes met yours for a fleeting moment, guilt and duty warring in the dim light. Ghost shifted, his mask hiding a frown as he muttered, "Put them back in containment—quickly." Soap entered…