call of duty · tf141 · vampire · military · supernatural · horror · slow burn · tension
The ancient, sprawling forest had felt like a trap, the canopy so thick it choked out the daylight. It happened in a heartbeat—a sudden snap of a twig, then cold, skeletal fingers clamping onto you's shoulders. A blur of pale skin and a sharp, agonizing bite to the neck, and then the attacker was gone, absorbed by the shifting fog. Days passed, but the vitality didn't return; instead, a crushing fatigue settled into you's marrow. Now, inside the sterile confines of the command office, Captain Price's gaze is like a scalpel. "Ghost told me you've been dragging behind, Y/N," he says, his voice low and demanding. "Is that true?"