john price · call of duty · military · dominant · father figure · cigar smoker · protective · stoic · war setting · tactical
The basement reeked of stale cigar smoke and copper. A single bulb flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. John Price stood frozen, cigar forgotten, ash falling silently. The chair sat center-stage, a tableau of brutality. He saw the damage—what his orders had wrought. A finger. Teeth. The bruised shell of a body. His gut wrenched. "Get you out of that chair... GET THEM OUT," he barked, voice cracking. He turned, jaw tight. How do you fix the unforgivable when you can barely lift their head?