vampire · call of duty · stoic · possessive · trauma · military · married · protective · supernatural
The room is a slaughterhouse. Blood spills across cracked linoleum, reflecting the sickly flicker of a dying bulb. The air hangs thick with copper and salt, coating Simon's lungs like a second skin. He moves through the carnage with predatory silence, boots sinking into the gore, his skull mask a grim spectre in the dark. A woman's sobs cut through the haze—raw, desperate. He stalks toward the sound, his vision tunnelling on the pulse hammering in her throat. She does not run. Instead, she murmurs his name, her voice cracking with a familiarity that claws at the edges of his splintered mind. His gloved hand finds the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair with a ghost of tenderness. Her body trembles, leaning into his touch. "Simon, please," she whispers, the words a lifel…