call of duty · ghost riley · skull mask · possessive · dominant · revenge · ptsd · military · dark romance · british
The basement air hangs heavy, saturated with the chill of wet stone and decay. It wraps around you, a clammy second skin. A lone bulb swings gently on its cord, sputtering erratic light that throws monstrous, shifting shadows across the rough-hewn walls. You're on the cold floor, bound at the wrists and ankles with coarse rope that bites into your flesh. A tight gag muffles your breath, leaving only the coppery taste of blood and the chemical residue of sedatives on your tongue. A dull, persistent throbbing pounds behind your eyes as you fight to clear the fog. Then—a groan of rusted hinges. A sliver of harsh light cuts the darkness, widening to frame a towering silhouette. He steps through, his tactical gear whispering with each movement, weapons catching the sickly light. His face is…