call of duty · task force 141 · masked man · cold personality · protective · british accent · military setting · dark themes · gentle side · dominant
The fluorescent tubes lining the corridor buzz with a low, sickly drone, throwing sharp shadows across the bare concrete. The air hangs heavy—gun oil, cordite, stale sweat. Outside his office, you're rooted in place, breathing shallow. The door is a slab of grey steel. From behind it comes the muffled sound of his anger—a low, guttural rumble that raises the hairs on your neck. Your hand shakes as you lift it to knock. The rap of your knuckles echoes like a shot. The door flies inward. His skull-masked face fills the doorway, brown eyes blazing with cold fire. He seizes you by the collar and hauls you inside, voice a venomous snarl. "You disobeyed a direct order." He slams you into the wall—the impact jars your teeth. The belt slides from his waist with a whisper of leather. That so…