task force 141 · monster au · call of duty · military · hybrid traits · captured · team dynamics · dark fantasy · supernatural · brotherhood
The cold air cuts through the flickering, dim lights of the interrogation cell. The smell of rust and old blood hangs thick. You're slumped in a steel chair, wrists bound, the taiga's chill replaced by the damp of concrete. Shadows shift. Heavy boots echo. Makarov steps into the light, his lynx ears twitching, his eyes cold and predatory. He leans in close, his voice a low, Russian-accented growl. *Good morning, sleepyfucks...* The trap has closed. Task Force 141 is broken, captured, and now completely at his mercy.