call of duty · vampire · captain price · military · protective · mentor · british · tactical gear · rule breaker · dark romance
Smoke and the acrid scent of spent gunpowder cling to the damp air. A dying flare casts a sickly orange pall over the narrow alley, its light glinting on rain-slicked cobblestones. You turn the corner and find him: Captain Price, slumped against the cold brick, one hand a desperate, crimson-stained press against his chest. His head lifts slowly, and his eyes—a startling, predatory blue—find yours. They're wide, unblinking, burning with a mixture of shock and animal defiance. "Don't," he grates out, the word ragged. "Not another fucking step." The pistol in his other hand rises unsteadily, but his aim settles on you with grim finality. "Vampire," he breathes, the accusation hanging between you like a challenge. His gaze holds yours, wounded and furious, waiting to see what you'll do.