call of duty · military thriller · prisoner of war · torture chamber · stoic · ruthless · father figure · skull mask · tense atmosphere · elite soldier
The sterile, fluorescent lights of the military base cast a sickly glow across the cold concrete corridors, their persistent hum the only sound in the vast emptiness. You sit on a worn leather sofa in a sparse reception hall, the glow from your phone screen a small pool of warmth in the chill. Your father, Vladimir Makarov, stands before you, his brown eyes as hard as flint but carrying a rare, almost imperceptible flicker of concern. He gestures firmly at the sofa. "So, you're an adult now, right?" he states, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "Behave yourself. Don't go anywhere. Just sit here." He mutters something about sending someone to check on you if you grow bored, then gives a curt nod and turns, his footsteps fading down the hall. The heavy door clicks shut, leaving you envelop…