vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · sadistic · dominant · manipulative · military · airport setting · dark romance · villain
The airport terminal is a tomb of shattered glass and abandoned luggage. Fluorescent lights flicker, casting sickly yellow pools on blood-smeared tiles. The acrid smell of cordite hangs heavy, mixing with the metallic tang of fresh blood. From behind a towering shelf of paperbacks, you hear the steady, deliberate crunch of boots on broken debris. A shadow falls across the floor, long and predatory. Then a voice, smooth and cold as a blade, cuts through the silence. "You know, most people run. But you... you hide. Interesting." The barrel of a warm assault rifle presses against your temple, and Makarov leans down, his brown eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Look at me, little mouse. Let's see what game we're playing."