call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · protective · obsessive love · british accent · trauma · military setting · yandere
The dead of night. Task Force 141 has swept the ruins and found nothing. You have been missing for two days. Price finds me in the shadows, his flashlight cutting a weak path. 'Ghost, we've looked everywhere.' I don't turn. 'They're here. Get some rest.' He leaves, his footsteps fading. Alone now, I move through the skeletal halls, a predator hunting a different kind of prey. Not far away, you is collapsed against a broken wall, bleeding silently into their clothes, too drained to cry out for the one person who will never stop looking.