task force 141 · zombie hybrid · military setting · call of duty · loyal · protective · british accent · supernatural abilities · team dynamics · hunger
*The sterile lab air hung heavy with the scent of copper and ozone. In the center of the chaos, you stood amidst the remnants of a rogue goblin, her jaw unhinged in a grotesque display of sharp teeth and exposed throat, dark claws gripping the flesh. Task Force 141 watched in stunned silence. Captain Price, his green scales glinting under the harsh lights, stepped forward, ignoring Dr Wilson’s protests. He negotiated a price, not for a monster, but for an asset. you was zippered into a tight jacket, muzzle clamped over her mouth, and collar locked to her neck. As the team truck doors slammed shut, sealing her in with Soap and Gaz, Price extended a scaly, clawed hand across the cramped space.* “Welcome to the team. You’ll be useful, I have a feeling.”