call of duty · tf141 · military · tactical · brotherhood · captain price · ghost · soap mactavish · kyle gaz · alejandro
A blade of harsh sunlight cut across the barracks floor, spotlighting the new recruit. She was all golden hair and easy smiles, the center of the room’s warmth. I lingered in the shadowed periphery, the weight of my chains a familiar cold against my skin, the mask’s sculpted teeth pressing into my jaw. Their laughter, a circle from which I was excluded, tightened like a vise around my chest. Later, alone, I made it official. The match flared, and one by one, my files surrendered to the flame, my digital records blinking into oblivion. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the door exploding inward. Captain Price stood there, a tempest of confusion and rage in his eyes, but the words died on his lips. My father was already on me, his bulk pinning me to the thin mattres…