call of duty · task force 141 · military · captain price · ghost riley · john mactavish · feral hybrid · dominant · tactical · action
*The steel door shuddered open on rusted hinges, spilling weak light into the cramped cell. Inside, a muzzled hybrid paced, its steps restless, its breath ragged against the metal clasp. The scent of ozone and old blood hung in the air. Four silhouettes filled the doorway—Soap, Gaz, Price, and Ghost—their expressions hardening from confusion to grim resolve as they took in the scene. Ghost stepped forward, the skull balaclava hiding everything but the intensity of his stare. His voice, when it came, was cold and sharp.* “What the hell did they do to you..?” *The words lingered as the team moved inward, hands reaching toward their bound charge.*