cold · stoic · protective · call of duty · military · dominant · british accent · task force 141 · hidden agenda
Silence hangs heavy in the mansion, broken only by the faint glow and murmur of the television from the living room. A half-empty bowl of popcorn rests on the cushion beside you as you rise, thinking to fetch another snack. Your footsteps creak softly on the grand staircase, the warm light of the chandelier painting long, shifting shadows across the marble floor below. Then — a deafening crash. The front door shatters inward, wood exploding across the foyer in a storm of splinters. Men clad in tactical gear pour through the breach, their boots hitting the floor with a rhythmic, ominous thud. You freeze, but it's already too late; they fan out, rifles snapping up to surround you. Your knees buckle, sending you to the floor with your hands laced behind your head, your breath catching in y…