Simon Ghost Riley x Fem OC.
❝I am rotten. How can you see the good in me?❞
𝑺𝒄𝒚𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒔𝒐𝒏, a tough and cold SAS soldier, haunted by the dark past and her demons. She's back on her tracks in Captain Price's team, to catch a dangerous threa...
Two broken souls scarred with the wounds from their demons, playing a dangerous game of trust and love.
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(A/N: this chapter is unedited, as soon as I have more time I'll check for errors! enjoy :). )
I have no idea for how long I've been in here. They barely brought me water and a few snacks to keep me from collapsing, twice a day at least. Jonathan came to see me once a day, and those few times he filled me with bruises. Just like old days.
I felt broken again, I was completely helpless. No one was here to help me anymore. No more Selene. No more David and Joyce. No more John or Task Force 141. It was just me, all alone, watched by Makarov's men.
Yet, I was grateful for them to not have disgusting intentions with me.
I could hear the armored door getting unlocked slowly, a few Russian voices coming from the other side. Then I recognized a familiar one, "Bring me new clothes." He said, before finally pushing the door open completely.
As soon as I raised my head to look at Makarov, cold water was splashed over me. I sucked in a breath silently, "What the fuck!" I spat angrily, my body starting to tremble from the coldness. "Time to go. You need to get cleaned up and get changed." He spoke in his thick accent.
I turned to look at him with a confused face, my eyebrows furrowed, "Where? What? I'm not going anywhere with you," I let out a bitter laugh, making him chuckle in amusement. "I'd rather die in here like a rat." I added and watched him through narrowed eyes. Heck, I was sure the others were going to find me soon.
And leaving this place meant fucking up the whole plan for them. They had a little of time before Makarov would've done something.
I watched him as he rounded me and kneeled behind me, unlocking my restraints. I gritted my teeth, gathering all my forces to hit him. As soon as I was free, I turned around and punched his cheek, making him stumble backwards. Now or never.
My knees felt weak, I was weak. I haven't eaten anything proper for my body to function correctly, and that made me so much slower. I didn't even reach the door in time, the clicking of the safety switching off ricocheted in the air. Makarov had turned his gun to my back, making me freeze.
"Stop or die. Easy choice, no?"
I shut my eyes tightly and sucked in a breath, "Fuck you." I hissed through gritted teeth, earning only a chuckle from him. "Get her." He spoke in Russian and a few men entered the room, grabbing both of my arms. I fought back, trying to free myself but they just put more force.
Dragging me with them, I looked around the place. It seemed like a traphouse, the smell was making me want to puke, burned cigarettes were on the ground, dried blood stains too. And I wondered what the fuck happened here.
