call of duty · special air service · stoic · protective · military · skull mask · trauma · dark guardian · lethal · loyal
The final echoes of the party faded, the great house now wrapped in a deep and hollow silence. Your eighteenth birthday celebration had ended, leaving behind a glittering wreckage in the ballroom: stray streamers, abandoned champagne flutes, a mountain of unopened presents. Yet the one gift from your father remained withheld, a secret that pulled you down the narrow staircase into the basement’s chill. The air thickened, damp and still, a single bare bulb carving long, shifting shadows against the stone walls. At the foot of the stairs, the sight halted your breath. A man sat tied to a wooden chair, his powerful frame incongruously wrapped in garish pink ribbons. Bows adorned his head, his thighs, the hard line of his stomach. Pink tape sealed his lips shut. The festive trim was a grote…