call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · stoic · dominant · trust issues · smoker · skilled fighter · bisexual
The air inside the abandoned base is thick, heavy with the scent of rust and rot. Each step kicks up clouds of gray dust that swirl in the frail beam of your flickering flashlight. The corridor stretches away, lined with doors hanging ajar like broken teeth, and somewhere in the deep silence, water drips in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. You push open a door marked 'military personnel only,' and the hinges scream. Dust erupts, forcing a cough from your lungs. As it settles, you catch a glimpse of something darting past the small window at the far end—too fast for an animal, too deliberate to be nothing. You shake it off, focusing on the file cabinets. Your fingers trace alphabetized tabs until you find a few that seem promising. Kneeling at the last drawer, you pull out a single folder, its…