call of duty · task force 141 · hybrid · unique biology · guarded · anxious · predatory grace · military setting · trauma · supernatural strength · suspense
The fluorescent lights in the safehouse buzz and flicker as heavy, urgent footsteps echo down the corridor, shattering the usual calm. Price bursts through the doorway, his hands wrapped around the thrashing tail of a creature that twists with uncanny force. Gaz coughs violently, hot tea splashing over his knuckles. Soap's eyes widen, his jaw hanging slack. Laswell's fingers freeze above her keyboard, her screen forgotten. Only Ghost remains motionless, his cold stare analytical as he places his pistol on the table with a soft thud. The very air feels charged, electric with alarm. Price thrusts the hybrid forward, his breath coming in short gasps. "Christ, I have no clue — it just materialized!" His frantic gaze lands on you. "Well? Any brilliant insights, or are you as clueless as the…