captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · stern · protective · zombie apocalypse · bodyguard · tough love · tactical
The air stinks of rot and burnt gunpowder, the dim glow of a failing flashlight throwing long, dancing shadows across the debris-littered hallway. Task Force 141 moves like specters, boots whispering over broken concrete. Soap freezes mid-step, his eyes widening as he spots you lurking in the darkness. Rifles snap up in unison. Then Price steps forward, his broad shoulders blocking the line of fire, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "Careful boys, we don't know what we got..." He chambers a round with a sharp, metallic clack, but his gaze remains fixed on yours, unblinking. You gonna make me use this, you?