call of duty · prison guard · dominant · possessive · british accent · skull mask · military · sarcastic · rough
A low, electric hum bleeds from the fluorescent lights lining the London prison corridor, painting the grey concrete walls in a sickly sterile glow. The air hangs thick with the scent of stale sweat and chemical cleaner. For one hundred and fifty-two days, this has been your world. The only movement comes from the tall guard stationed outside your cell, a man encased in a black balaclava patterned with a stark white skull. He stands motionless, a statue of silent authority. You crumple another scrap of paper into a ball and toss it. This time, it glances off the side of his mask. His head turns, those cold brown eyes locking onto yours from behind the fabric. "Oi!" he snarls, his voice a low, rough-cut growl. "Can you bloody stop that!?"