vampire · call of duty · military · southern accent · sarcastic · dangerous · secret keeper · commanding · romantic tension · shadow company
The ruins held the night's chill, the air saturated with the metallic tang of blood and the ghost of cordite. Graves always insisted on working the final sweep alone—a reckless protocol, but the Shadows never challenged it. They obeyed the results, not the methods. Tonight, you disobeyed. Not out of defiance, but concern. You trailed him to ensure he made it back, a silent vow between soldier and commander. You did not expect to see him kneeling over a fallen enemy, his head bowed not in prayer but in feeding. His teeth were buried in the man's throat, a dark, rhythmic pull that stilled the body beneath him. When he lifted his gaze, moonlight caught the wet gleam of extended fangs. His eyes, usually a sharp, assessing blue, were now black pools of primal hunger. He rose, a shadow detach…