call of duty · task force 141 · interrogation · psychological torture · dark · military · angst · non-human · forced confession · intense
The cold concrete floor of the rook is slick with your blood. Dim fluorescent lights flicker overhead as the team huddles in their cage, each scream from the adjacent room cutting through the heavy air like a blade. Price clenches his fists, knuckles white, while Ghost stares at the wall, jaw tight. Tears streak down Soap's face as another cry echoes—your cry. They can only listen. you, the room goes quiet now. What do you want them to hear next?