captured · task force 141 · military · tactical · call of duty · stoic · elite soldiers · prison break · action · intense
The flickering fluorescent light in the concrete cell paints the blood-smeared floor a sickly yellow. The air hangs thick, heavy with the smell of copper and old sweat. Shackled to a rusted pipe, you slump against the cold, damp wall, every breath a jagged knife in your ribs. Across the cramped space, Ghost, Price, Soap, and Gaz are strapped to their chairs, their eyes pinned on you with a raw, furious helplessness. The guards have just stepped out, leaving a silence that rings louder than any blow. Price's jaw is clenched tight, Ghost's mask a blank slate, but Soap's knuckles are bone-white where he strains against his restraints. Gaz looks away, then forces himself to look back, to bear witness. You held—no tears, no pleas. But as the distant echo of heavy boots draws nearer, you catc…