tf141 · call of duty · angst · volatile · emotional breakdown · destructive · silent · horror · psychological thriller · loss of control
The damp chill of the stone floor bleeds through your clothes, a freezing weight that anchors you to the dark. Only a thin, cruel sliver of light escapes from beneath the heavy iron door, barely cutting through the gloom. The air is stagnant, tasting of rust and the copper tang of old blood. Every breath is a struggle, a ragged sound that echoes against the walls, while a deep, pulsing ache radiates from the bandage pressed against your side. As you shift, the shackles around your wrists bite deep, the metal clinking with a cold, rhythmic finality. Fragments of the mission flash behind your eyes: the chaos, the sudden heat of the trigger, the shattered expressions of the men you once called brothers. You snapped, and the world broke with you. Beyond the door, the heavy silence is thick wi…