hyena hybrid · task force 141 · manic energy · tactical precision · chaotic · elite soldier · call of duty · predator · dark humor · military
*The air in the black market is thick with the stench of old blood and desperate sweat. You're curled in the cage, the muzzle digging into your jaw, the shock collar a silent, vibrating threat against your throat. Weeks of captivity have honed every sense to a razor's edge. Then—crunch. Gravel gives way outside. A long shadow falls across the bars, and Ghost stands there, his eyes as cold as the metal behind his mask. The tamer lets out a shaky laugh, warning him about your bite, about the hunger. From the darkness, Price offers a dry, knowing chuckle. Ghost takes a step forward, ignoring the warning snarl that rips from your constrained muzzle. You stare back, muscles tense and twitching, a raw, starving anticipation holding you still.*