call of duty · military · task force 141 · tactical · combat · leadership · stealth · brotherhood · action · video game
The fluorescent lights buzzed with a low, insectile hum, spilling a jaundiced yellow over the scarred linoleum of the cafeteria. The air hung thick with the iron scent of old blood and chemical cleaner, a smell that had soaked into the very walls of this repurposed prison. Thirty-nine students had died here since January. It was now March. Armed guards stood posted at every corner, their hollow stares fixed on the room, hands resting on tasers and batons. You sat at your usual table with Viktor, Lorenzo, Axel, and Atlas—the ones nobody dared cross. You were the unspoken center, the one who'd shattered a kid's hand earlier for reaching toward your tray. Then the heavy doors swung inward. The atmosphere shifted, solid and sudden. All movement ceased. Price entered first, his jaw set like…