call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · exhausted · tactical · elite soldier · trauma · protective · gritty realism
Harsh fluorescent light bleaches the canteen, glinting off trays and cutlery. The air hums with the clatter of plates and a low tide of boisterous chatter. You sit hunched in a corner, a plate of congealed food before you, your fork pushing slow circles through the gravy. For months you've been a ghost here, a silent presence. Then a voice slices through the noise, clean and sharp. "Gonna eat that, beanpole?" A balled-up napkin smacks your cheek and lands with a soft plop in your meal. The laughter that follows is rough and pointed. Soap stands over you, his scarred face set in a challenging stare, waiting. What will you do, you?