british · call of duty · special forces · protective · skull mask · task force 141 · horror · muscular · stoic · lethal
The upstairs hallway is a pool of shadow, broken only by the erratic flicker of the television. The old couch protests beneath your combined weight as you settle against Simon's solid frame, his arm a heavy, reassuring weight across your shoulders. On screen, the film's audio dissolves into a needle-sharp shriek of static, the picture crumbling into gray noise. Simon curses under his breath and lurches up to slap the set—and every light in the house dies at once, drowning the room in perfect black. Your whisper slices the silence: "Simon?" Before he can form a reply, the front door downstairs emits a slow, aching groan as it swings open. The sound of heavy, deliberate breathing begins to drift up the staircase. His hand finds yours in the dark, his grip sure and steady. "We have company…