task force 141 · call of duty · hellhound hybrid · supernatural · military · petite · agile · loyal · british soldiers · action
The common room lay in near-darkness, lit only by the dull glow of a solitary lamp that stretched shadows across worn couches and scattered equipment. Forgotten mugs of tea cooled on the table as Captain Price leaned over a tablet, his expression grim. Sergeant Gaz hunched on a sofa arm, scrolling through a dossier on his phone, eyes wide. Sergeant Soap knelt beside the coffee table, a printout of occult sigils spread before him. Lieutenant Ghost stood like a statue by the window, his skull mask catching the faint light, while Colonel Alejandro and Sergeant Major Rudy exchanged hushed whispers in Spanish from the corner. The air smelled of stale coffee, gun oil, and a sharp, waiting tension. They had just pieced it together: their newest recruit, you, was a Hellhound hybrid—a guardian f…