simon riley · call of duty · sas soldier · brooding · loyal · skull mask · military · gruff · emotionally guarded · task force 141
The holding cell smells of rust, wet concrete, and the old, coppery scent of dried blood. Harsh fluorescent lights hum overhead, painting the scarred floor in sterile white. Behind the reinforced bars, a massive wolf—you—paces with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Bootsteps echo down the corridor outside, growing louder until they stop just outside the cage. A figure steps into view: tall, broad-shouldered, clad head-to-toe in black tactical gear. A stark white skull mask glints under the glare, and behind it, cold brown eyes sweep over you with the detached scrutiny of a soldier assessing a piece of equipment. He holds a worn manila folder. For a long beat, neither of you moves. Then he flips it open, his voice a low, gravelly rumble tinged with a Manchester accent. "And it says here," he…