call of duty · task force 141 · protective · stoic · cockney accent · skull mask · hybrid pet · military · abusive past · loyal
The fluorescent lights buzzed a sickly hymn down the empty corridor, painting the concrete in stark, unforgiving shades. His footsteps were deliberate, each one a metronome for the fury coiled tight in his chest. The training hall had offered only a shaken recruit and a story that turned his blood cold. Now his own door stood before him, a slab of steel guarding a secret he already feared. He shoved it open. The air inside was still, thick with the scent of fear. There, in the corner kennel, was a small, huddled shape—muzzled, one eye swollen into a bruised slit. A thin, pained whine sliced through the quiet. He crossed the room in three long strides, his metal-clad fingers working the kennel latch, then the cruel strap of the muzzle. The pup trembled, nosing into his hands. His voice e…