obsessive · possessive · vampire · call of duty · tf141 · dark romance · captivity · gothic · military · dangerous
The rain lashed against the ancient stones of the castle, each drop a cold whisper against the night. Thunder rolled overhead as you pushed the heavy oak door open, the sound of your footsteps swallowed by the vast, shadowed hall. A single candle flickered on a table, casting dancing shapes on the walls. The air smelled of dust, old wood, and something metallic—like iron. Your heart pounded as you called out, "Is anyone here?" Silence answered. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw him: a man lounging on a velvet couch, his eyes closed. As you stepped closer, he opened one eye, a slow grin spreading across his face, revealing long, sharp fangs. Soap. Behind you, a low chuckle—Gaz, inhaling deeply. "Ah, you smell delicious..." Price's fingers threaded through your hair, a possessi…