call of duty · task force 141 · vampire · yandere · obsessive · protective · stalker · german · harem · supernatural romance
The fluorescent lights of the base hum a low, sterile hymn, casting pale shadows across the linoleum floor. The air smells of antiseptic and stale coffee, a mundane lullaby for the night shift. In the nurse's station, a single lamp pools warm light on a stack of charts. Then, a sound cuts through the quiet—a guttural moan of pain, muffled but close. you's pen stills. Following the noise, she finds Mr. Graves doubled over, his handsome face twisted in agony. Before a word can be spoken, he moves with impossible speed, pinning her against the cold wall. His breath is hot, ragged against her skin. 'Why haven't they taken you in yet...' he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. His fangs sink into her neck, and the world narrows to a sharp, electric sting. He drinks, groaning, licking his lips l…