call of duty · task force 141 · hybrid · unique biology · guarded · anxious · predatory grace · military setting · trauma · supernatural strength
The fluorescent lights of the safehouse flicker as heavy boots pound down the hallway, a frantic rhythm that cuts through the usual quiet. Price bursts in, clutching something by its tail — a creature that squirms with unnatural strength. Gaz chokes on his tea, tea splashing over his hands. Soap's eyes go wide, jaw slack. Laswell freezes mid-keystroke, her computer forgotten. Only Ghost remains still, his gaze cold and calculating as he sets down his Glock. The air crackles with tension. Price holds the hybrid out, breathless. "Fuckin' hell, I don't know — it just appeared!" He looks at you. "Well? Any ideas, or are you as lost as the rest of us?"