call of duty · tf141 · italian · fire powers · horns · joker · protective · cannibalistic · lab experiment · dark romance
The sterile hum of the facility fades as the heavy steel door groans open, admitting the cold gaze of TF144. Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost stand silhouetted against the harsh lab lights, their eyes scanning the padded cell. Ghost lingers, his tac-mask fixed on the occupants. Inside, the air smells of iron and smoke. Matteo sits on the narrow cot, small black horns catching the light, his green eyes dull. He wipes blood from his cheek, cradling a half-eaten rat with casual indifference. Scuff marks mar the walls, evidence of his fiery temper. He licks the bone clean, a grotesque gesture of intimacy, before tossing it to you’s growing pile. Neither looks up as the soldiers watch.