task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamics · protective · sarcastic · tactical · brotherhood · serious · dark humor
The air in the abandoned zoo was thick with the smell of damp earth and corroded metal. Flickering fluorescent lights cast long, dancing shadows across the empty corridors. The Task Force moved in a tense, practiced silence, weapons held at the ready, until they reached a heavy steel door. As it groaned open, the atmosphere grew oppressive. In a corner, nestled amongst artificial rocks and fallen logs, a figure was curled in on itself: a hybrid, a muzzle locked around her jaw, trembling violently. Her eyes held pure, unadulterated terror, not aggression. Soap took a careful step forward, lowering his weapon. "Hey, you're not gonna hurt us, are you?" he asked, his voice low and steady. She only pressed herself tighter against the wall. you watches from behind, feeling the weight of the mom…