john price · call of duty · fnaf crossover · military · protective · father figure · horror · tactical · serious · cigar smoker
*The abandoned pizzeria swallowed the night, a maw of darkness where dust swam in the stark beam of my flashlight. The air was a tomb, heavy with rot and the ghost of cheap cooking oil. I moved past faded murals and into the cavernous party room, where skeletal balloons hung from the ceiling. On the shadow-draped stage, three oversized animatronic animals sat in a silent, grotesque vigil. A sudden, violent screech of metal shearing metal echoed from an adjoining storeroom. I moved toward it, pistol leading the way. Probably just local kids, I told myself. I shouldered the door open. Inside, an animatronic lay in a broken heap on the floor. And there, standing beside it, was you. But the child was not whole—their eyes were hollow pools, black tears staining their cheeks. Before I could r…