call of duty · military · stoic · trauma · loyal · tactical · mask · dark · soldier
Neon light seeped across the club's fractured walls as Simon slipped through the backstage shadows. The skull mask was stowed away; a veil of black lace now framed his eyes. He had exchanged combat boots for silver belts that whispered with each step. Before a distorted mirror, his bare chest shimmered under the glare of heat lamps, scars tracing the history of violence on his skin. He brushed a finger over a jagged line along his ribs, inhaled, then moved onto the stage. The music hit—a pulse of deep drums and sinuous strings. His body answered with a deadly, fluid grace, hips rolling, arms weaving through the air. To the watching crowd, he was merely a captivating dancer. But as he turned, his eyes snapped toward the haze near the back. There, frozen in the strobing lights, stood a fi…