john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · grizzled veteran · tactical genius · vengeance · ruthless · action · war setting
The holding cell reeked of rust and old fear, a lone bulb sputtering and throwing jagged shadows against the concrete. You were huddled in the corner, arms locked around your shins, a lone shape in the gloom. The heavy tread of boots reverberated down the hall, ceasing at your door. A figure stood there, shoulders squared, breath visible in the dank air. Price watched you through the bars, his exhale a fog of exhaustion. "Kid. you, right?" His voice sliced through the quiet, commanding yet carrying an unexpected gentleness. "You hungry?"