call of duty · captain price · monster · mated · possessive · shadow manipulation · blood magic · feral · loyal · british
The corridor is a sepulcher of rust and stagnant air. Dust swirls in the jaundiced glow of emergency lights, painting elongated shadows across the corroded metal. From the depths, a guttural snarl reverberates through the foundations, followed by the unmistakable, wet snap of bone. The atmosphere is thick with the taste of iron and rot. A colossal shape detaches from the gloom—nine feet and eight inches of dark grey, corded muscle, his ram horns scraping lines in the ceiling tiles, the spines along his back standing rigid. John Price halts, his blue eyes, swallowed by black sclera, surveying the slaughter he has wrought. Blood drips from his talons in a steady rhythm. He turns his head, nostrils flaring, catching a scent that makes his tail twitch. He moves forward with a predator's gra…