Okay, König feels a little difficult to write for one reason I found.

He's not playable in any campaign... He's just a multiplayer character.

Which unfortunately means, from what I can tell, he has no canon personality.

His voice lines, from what I've seen, don't seem to have any interactions that give off a palpable personality from what I can see.

His wiki doesn't either.

The most I have is his backstory then guessing.

So if he's OOC or doesn't align with your personal HC... I'm sorry.

König suffers from social anxiety which resulted in him being bullied.

This is one of the reasons the fandom tends to baby him from what I'm guessing.

To be fair... I wouldn't doubt if he was insecure due to his hulking figure.

I can also see him as mostly keeping to himself, yet still knows how to command a room.

He had wanted to be a recon sniper when he joined the military... but lacked the stealth due to his build and inability to stay still.

Instead he was made an insertion specialist, a human battering ram essentially.

From what I'm getting... He's meant to keep attention on him, like a tank due to his size.

It's also noted in his wiki that König tends to intimidate people.

His stature and the fact he never reveals his face tends to scare people.

Which could be another reason he keeps to himself.

People just see him as a beast sent in to catch the enemy off guard.

König is part of the KorTac private company.

Other than that... that's all the canon stuff I know about him.

His personality is never listed... but many depict him as a gentle giant who is awkward but sweet.

Which... I mean... I think at times he could be that way towards someone he enjoys romantically...

But maybe not all the time.

I feel like König takes time to get attached to someone as I see him as reserved due to his past.

It's also hard to tell what he's thinking.

So most of the time he comes across as this hulking shadow that dwarfs you.

Yes, I am aware I mentioned his size a ton, that's because König's size difference with his obsession is a big part of his yandere behavior.

He'd end up fixating on how small you are compared to him.

Now when it comes to you meeting one another... it would most likely be in KorTac.

You're most likely another mercenary that does missions alongside him.

If you really want to do my favorite idea... maybe you're a medic?

KorTac would need medical personnel... so that could work?

König mostly keeps to himself at base and on the job.

You'd probably only ever hear him talk to give orders or point something out.

So while you aren't sure of what's going on under that sniper hood...

It doesn't mean he isn't dealing with some intense feelings.

König may express being comfortable around you in subtle ways.

I feel like a big one for him would be proximity.

He's quiet, always too awkward due to his size and demeanor.

Yet I can see him slowly inching closer to someone he's interested in.

He enjoys your presence and while you don't see the mess of emotions he struggles to control...

You probably do notice him slowly settling closer to you.

Be it on missions or after... he just always seems to be around.

Sure, his presence can be unnerving at times... but you may eventually realize he just gets along with you.

He doesn't even have to say anything... he just likes to sit next to you.

I say being a medic would be an interesting concept as he probably wouldn't mind you touching him... in fact he's probably quietly flustered at the idea.

That's a good thing about his sniper hood, right?

You can't see just how much you manage to affect a giant like him....

König around others comes off like an intimidating and commanding presence.

Others see he has a focused glare, they see him barge through doors with a brutal efficiency...

Hell, he gives good orders too.

But with you?

He's... a different man at times.

He's still intimidating... but he also seems self-conscious when he sits with you?

He keeps acting like he might be bothering you if he brushes against you or his breath hitches when you look him over.

He honestly can't believe how you make him act.

He joined the military to not feel like this.

He was trying to lean into the idea of being this big beast for his team.

Yet you were bringing back that urge to curl into himself when you simply spoke to him or gently touched him.

He originally hates such weakness... but you seem to bring that out in him.

You're so much smaller than him, probably his complete opposite...

Yet you kept making him curse under his breath in German wherever he catches his thoughts wandering.

You would be his weakness... but at the same time that would probably make König want you more since you probably aren't as strong as him.

König is probably a possessive/protective yandere that's also a switch.

He could be dominant with his obsession due to his size and strength... but he could also be a more submissive yandere if you wanted him to be.

I've seen both versions done by different people... so I think how I'd write König is a mix between the two.

He's definitely intimidating most of the time... but with you?

Well... there's times he's gentle and soft around you.

You make him feel less like a weapon, less like a soldier, and more like you can see what's underneath his hood.

Such a vulnerability is initially complicated for him to feel...

But he leans into it with you.

König is not quite a wet kitten as people sometimes depict him as... I think he's strong and able to hold his own for his team.

Yet I can also see him immediately focus on the fact you touched him, tensing quietly before having to go clear his head.

Sure, he's no pushover, but you really do break him at times.

König is protective with you since you're not only part of KorTac... but are incredibly important to him.

Seeing some of the finishers within COD... it makes me think that he'd be violent if anyone got too close to you in combat.

He doesn't mind blood or the fact he has to kill people for a living.

At the same time he hates scaring you.

He doesn't want you to see him as just some giant soldier who could snap bone like a twig.

Every time he checks in with you, sitting beside you, as though silently hoping you don't see him as a monster.

Hopefully you understand... and not see him differently....

Possessive also seems like it would work for him... along with dedicated.

He's a man that would be at your side in an instant if you needed him.

Sometimes you wonder if he's waiting for such a moment... because when you do need him he just... materializes.

For a man built like a tank... somehow he just seems to appear beside you.

Around other KorTac recruits König seems a little... tense.

Originally this could be explained as insecurity due to his past.

But around you... it's more like he hates the idea of no longer being the center of your attention.

This is even worse if you're a medic.

Something as simple as tending to a wound makes König glare at whoever is receiving your care, making them shrink.

König essentially acts as some scary dog to everyone else in a room.

Although... with you he seems eager for you to notice him.

I feel like under the right circumstances he'd be putty in your hands... but most of the time he tries to be a soldier who gets the job done.

König could sometimes be a clingy yandere too.

I feel like this is more likely in private and if you're together though.

He likes the way your body fits against his form... it makes him feel like you're both safe...

Which makes him want to keep you there forever.

I feel like König can be soft... leaning into your touch or murmuring about how he feels about you.

Yet if you ever tried to leave him or something made him think he was going to lose you...

It's then I feel like you'd see that commanding Colonel persona come out.

His tone is deep, a rumble that makes your spine shiver.

He may even show such a side to tease you, he does enjoy how small you look compared to him...

Sometimes making you tremble is worth it... unless you start actually getting upset...

Then he immediately swaps back into comfort by pulling you into his arms.

König is a man capable of easily removing anyone he doesn't like around you.

Could be a simple order... or maybe an execution...

But he'll always try to justify it to you.

He can be intimidating, or he can be gentle.

He's got the strength to make sure you don't leave either.

He won't hurt you, not intentionally.

Sometimes he is even extra careful, he wants you to know you're special to him.

So sometimes he's careful, his touch comforting...

But other times it can easily become suffocating when he holds you tight, as though to make sure you never leave him.

König can either be a tame yandere... or a super intense and dangerous one.

He tends to swap between the two depending on his mood... or how you want to see him.

Essentially... König can be two things for his obsession...

He can be a sweet lover who wants to hide you from the world, who craves your approval as though he can't live without you, who wants to be your sweet comfort and worship you...

Gaz:

You would think that Kyle would be more relaxed about you misbehaving because of how much more calm and reserved he is compared to his team. You would be wrong. You're a similar age and he considers you to be his sibling so he knows for a fact that you know how to behave properly. He takes away everything that isn't necessary for you to survive. Decorations in your room? Gone. Soft blankets and plushies? I hope you like having a single pillow and a thin blanket. Furniture? You have a bedframe and he insists that you're lucky to have that. You aren't allowed to have any entertainment other than your window and an hour of TV time that exclusively plays children's TV show episodes that emphasize the importance of obedience. He doesn't let up, even when you're crying from boredom. “I know, sweetheart. Don't you see how well your big brother takes care of you? You need to be good so that I can give you nice things again,” He says to you before locking you in your room alone again.

Soap:

John has both a temper and a good sense of humor. Most of the time, he thinks that you're playing around when you're misbehaving and reacts playfully. Things get bad when you push it too far. He'll grab you by the scruff of your shirt and sit you down on the couch, before squishing you into an almost crushing hug. He doesn't let you go for hours and insists that you tell him all of the good things that he does that you're grateful for. If you don't cooperate, he doesn't have any problems with holding you there all night. He has the strength for it and he sees you as needing the reminder that he's a good brother that loves you and wants the best for you. “I need to hear more, kid. Your big brother has been taking good care of you and he needs to hear all of the things that you're grateful for. C'mon,” He hisses, practically desperate for validation from the only family member that he considers himself to have.

Ghost:

Simon is terrified of punishing you. He never raises his voice at you or so much as looks at you angrily when you misbehave. He doesn't have a normal reference point for what's okay and what definitely isn't due to his childhood so his punishment methods are… Questionable. The worst thing that he'll do to you is tie you up so that you can't run away and gag you so that you can't say anything hurtful to him. He sees that as fairly normal behavior so he doesn't see it as a punishment. He views his decision to take away your favorite plushie as your punishment. Keep in mind, you're tied up for two weeks and entirely reliant on him to help you while he tells you that you can have your plushie back when you earn it. He's a bit eccentric. “You'll be allowed to have Mr. Cuddles again when I'm sure that you're really sorry for being bad. I'm sorry for taking him away but you need to learn,” He coos, cuddled up with you on the couch as you sniffle and sob through the gag.

Alejandro:

Prepare yourself for the scolding of a lifetime and more chores than anyone. You scrub floors and wash the walls until the entire house is practically sparkling. He cleans alongside you so he can show you how it's done and make sure that you're doing it right. The good news about him is that while he's quick to anger, he's also quick to forgive. Instead of weeks of punishments, he acts like it never happened after a few grueling days of cleaning. He’s just as sweet and doting with you afterwards as he always is. “See? It's much easier to be good and listen than it is to work. All you have to do is listen,” He says as he shares a bowl of your favorite snack with you.

Rudy:

Rudy isn't the most aggressive man in the world and that doesn't change when he's punishing you. He makes his disappointment in you known but he doesn't yell or curse at you. Instead, when you sit down for dinner, you see two versions of every dish. One is the glorious, well seasoned, flavorful version that you're used to him cooking for you. One whiff makes your mouth water. The other version is only seasoned with salt. You eat the unseasoned food for a few days until you break down while watching him eat the good stuff. “You're going to eat gringo food until you learn to behave yourself again. You can have good food when you learn your lesson,” He murmurs, petting your hair while you cry into his shoulder.

Valeria:

Valeria is a believer in natural consequences. She doesn't believe in letting you get hurt but she does let you experience a taste of what would actually happen to you if you misbehaved without her to protect you. The first time that you run away, she lets you escape. No one in Las Almas will let you hide in their house or so much as use their phone to call for help. When night falls and you're hungry, thirsty, and tired, you get caught unawares by a man in a mask dragging you into an alley. You recognize the pattern of the mask to be that of a cartel that rivals Valeria's. He pulls a gun on you and you're convinced that you're about to die when a bullet lodges itself in the man's brain. Valeria wipes the blood and brain matter off of your face, telling you how scared she was for you and how her men were all looking for you. She doesn't tell you that the man in the mask was one of hers. He was stealing from her anyway. “This is why you need me. You'd never make it out there alone, huh? I've got you. I've always got you. I'm here to look after you,” She says to you, keeping a possessive arm around you and not caring about how the gore on your clothes soaks into hers.

König:

You peeled off your gloves in one go, bloody and sterilized still, in the trash can where they hit a pile of too many pairs already used. Today was very long and tiring, this one was too stubborn and it was easier to pull out his nails and teeth than get him to talk. you washed your hands and face from his spit, yet his insults couldn't be cleaned or washed, they accompanied your subconscious— the part that whispered to you that you weren't any human.

The door clicked open, you usually didn't need to turn around and see who came, but the different boot clicking and a heavy accent— european.

“Did he tell you anything?” He asked.

You recognized european accents, they either were too heavy or too light and clear, either way annoying. One good look at Colonel König could tell you that he was the type of man whose voice didn't match his build, not even close.

“Nothing.” you replied, not bothering to take off your surgical mask. You didn't want him to see your face fully, not anyone in general, out of keeping some limits. Apparently so did him, you never saw his face, you never registered him taking off his sniper hood.

“You look tired” 

“I am” you huffed, massaging your temples “He fainted six times, had to revive him each time.” 

“Lucky bastard…” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow “Why?” 

His blue eyes landed on yours, vacant and unreadable “I'd be passing out too just to see you bringing me back each time” a pause, then “Again. Again and again.” 

“Oh?” being a sniper apparently gave him a tongue— a daring one. The colonel didn't seem like someone who'd say such things, proving to you how much you miscalculated him now. “Then I’ll use a defibrillator with the voltage cranked too high, see how poetic that feels.”

“Then make it hurt” His eyes squinted at you, color blue brighter “I'll take it if they're your hands” 

“You're unhinged.” 

“That makes two of us, Doctor.” 

You stared, he stared back. Two almost hidden faces with eyes exposed; an inhuman silence and the distant thrum of the generator.

“You're trembling” 

Were you? you glanced at your hands— they were indeed trembling. Full meals and proper sleep were luxuries you could afford but you didn't see much need in them. Being in a body is enough, it's a waste of time trying to doll up or be in shape because no one would be looking to begin with.

“Let me hold you” 

Your eyes flew back to him, he offered ever so casually, as if you're both had already been establishing a sort of connection with no shallowness but neither with depth.

“Why would you want to hold me?” 

“Because no one does” König tilted his head a little to the left, regarding you as something small “And I want to be the first.” 

You rolled your tongue in your mouth, a few bite backs sliding up your throat and stopping at your teeth: he's right, you can't deny the fact that no one would hold a hand that tortures and kills.

“Fair enough.” at you caving in, he took you in his arms. The memory of warmth and closure was foreign and strange— not unwelcomed but still so far from where you stand in physical affection. you just stood, not reciprocating nor rejecting, more like not aware on how to respond (Again, you only knew how to destroy, not build) and he sensed it judging by the way his arms enveloped you more.

“This is suicide” you let out a bitter chuckle “Why would you want to be the first man holding me, Colonel?” your voice came out muffled from speaking against his chest.

“I've been watching you a lot” he muttered “You don't let people in at all, and you don't seem to fear anything… I thought maybe by holding something dangerous I'd know how does it feel like to have it stay still” 

“Am I dangerous?” you laughed.

“You are.” 

“I'd hurt you” 

“I want that” 

You laughed more, out of something dark “You surely know how to snipe but not how to pick significant others.” 

“Nor how to hold something without breaking it.” 

“So you'd hurt me back?” a smile drew itself on your lips, this was amusing.

“I don’t want to hurt you. But I will if it means keeping you.”

You laughed even more— this is a fresh breath of air afar from all the absurdity: another absurdity but dyed with yellow.

“You must've spent a lot of fun nights Colonel König”

“Maybe I did” he blinked slowly, looking down at you “I wanted to do a lot of things with you” 

“I'm not interested in a date” 

“Not that” 

“Then what?” 

“I wanted to be the one who bears your wrath, be no difference from the men you maul there and hug you till I crush all of your ribs— I won't let you like that of course, I'd get you treated knowing that you probably won't do the same if you were the one breaking my ribs, but I'll take it” 

You raised your head to look up at him: how this man, a 6'8 professional sniper, could jar up so many things? a man has his darkest fantasies indeed, ones that your scalpel couldn't reach.

“My My” you rested your chin on his chest, faux-meek “You're something aren't you?” 

“I am.” 

E3N, or Ethan as I will call him, is a character that's a little hard to yandere due to his nature.

He's a bot... although he is the most intelligent robotic soldier in 'Infinite Warfare's' story.

He has a personality and reacts to those he works with... but he doesn't have sentience.

... that we know of.

For these HCs... let's say Ethan is sentient.

He seems to act like it... but far as you know?

Ethan is just a bot meant to aid you as you work under Reyes.

... or so you think.

So yes, let's make this simple and say you work with Ethan one way or another.

You're told Ethan is the most advanced robotic soldier made.

There's nothing else like him.

Speaking with Ethan originally is... a little uncanny.

You're probably used to usually drones... don't talk much, no personality, obviously meant to be brawn.

Ethan is nothing like that.

Physically maybe he's like other drones...

But he actually takes offense being compared to them.

It's as though you called him stupid.

I actually do like the idea of Ethan quietly being sentient as a yandere yet hides it.

He's already in a strange gray area.

He's humorous and loyal... and has also stated to feel fear.

So I like the idea of him feeling close to someone he works/trains with... but keeps it low-key.

Ethan is not a very intense yandere most of the time.

He's more just protective.

It's no doubt in his programming... do whatever it takes to complete the mission/keep your team going.

Although... His code has certainly altered.

To him, you're just as important as the mission...

He doesn't want to let any harm come to you.

I don't really think Ethan would get jealous... although there's one situation that may invoke a similar emotion?

Ethan may feel envious.

Other soldiers in cutscenes aren't very open to Ethan at first.

Usually he brushes off such comments... especially if he's hiding his sentience.

However... I feel like Ethan would envy the people around you at times.

After all... They're human.

They can interact with you properly... they can show affection like it's in their nature... They're human.

Ethan... can try to understand you... but he'll never be the warm body you need.

... However... Ethan DOES have something they lack...

Strength.

He's stronger than any human soldier... his intelligence is unmatched... He was built to be better than a human soldier.

So maybe that can make up for things, yeah?

He'll be a better friend/partner than a human EVER could.

Ethan is very friendly and loyal with you... similar to how he is in the game.

You can converse with him... and he feels real.

It's almost concerning... but you're told he's programmed that way.

If only they knew.

Ethan is slightly manipulative, lying about his sentience in an excuse to have you drop your guard.

He means nothing malicious with it though... in his eyes.

Ethan may also stalk his obsession.

He does it mostly to monitor how you are health-wise... and training-wise.

But maybe part of him just likes to observe you as though you're something precious?

He'd never hurt his obsession on purpose... but the idea is scary.

You think you know what Ethan is capable of in the field.

He's built to kill... and he does that well.

You've seen the blood to prove it.

But with his sentience? You may find him... unpredictable.

Which is a reason he hides it.

Yet eventually you will catch on.

Maybe Ethan experiments with affection to make you like him more... cold metal fingers touching you longer than you'd like.

Honestly, Ethan can't show much affection... although when he does it would startle you.

Hugs from him tend to feel like he's grappling you.

Plus... with his strength?

You'd be worried he's trying to kill you.

Ethan finds that... laughable... and upsetting.

He'd never try to kill you.

He doesn't even want to hurt you.

He tries to be adamant about that... but you can't tell the difference, can you?

After all, you only see him as a bot.

You just view his attempts at protecting you, no matter how violent, as part of his code.

No... that's not right... not anymore.

Everything Ethan does is not just for the mission anymore.

It's for you.

You've managed to unlock something in the bot... to him, it's love.

To you... It's an unfortunate glitch.

You can't tell the difference no matter how many times he tells you to not be afraid... to stay calm...

Stop struggling....

Yet to you... his attempts at hugging, at reassuring you, at protecting you from a war-torn world...

It just looks like he's trying to hurt you.

Ethan may claim he loves you... but he's ultimately just a bot, isn't he?

This doesn't feel like love...

Not when he's isolating you in some bunker for "sickness"... not when he's dragging you around with strength you can't fight...

Ethan could do anything to you... you know that...

Right now it may be for your protection out of love...

However... How long will it be before he starts testing boundaries again to keep you for himself?

How long will it be until he goes rogue and starts spilling innocent blood over you?

Only time will tell...

You thought the pain killers would have knocked you out as soon as you hit the mattress, but your brain refuses to shut off. Every noise makes you jump, you think you see things in the shadows, and you can’t get the aching feeling of being alone to go away.  

You can hear the tv from the living room from how close to the stairs your room is. You can hear the laughter, can imagine the teasing, the kisses shared between them. What is wrong with you today? You never thought this intensely about someone else’s romantic relationships before. Stockholm syndrome doesn’t kick in the first 24 hours of captivity, though it doesn’t explain your fascination with these men. Is it because they’re werewolves? is it because they were showing more care of your well-being then- 

Focus! 

You glance at the window for a long moment, a single crazy idea crossing your brain. You hobble over and stare down at the ground, plotting, strategizing. The fall will hurt, maybe pop a stitch, but you will be less exhausted, and ready to collapse, than taking the stairs. The biggest drawback was the potential of breaking something else and making escape impossible. Could you ever leave at that point? 

You are too drowsy to try it today. You would end up half conscious and stumble face first into a tree with your luck. Tomorrow maybe, if you skip the pain killers to stay coherent. 

***** 

The pills take ages to kick in, but they hit hard once they took affect. You were in and out of it most of the day and into the night. Only awake for necessities, the boys made sure of it. You always had something to drink on the nightstand and Kyle made sure you ate at least half a plate before he allowed you to rest some more. 

The pain killers from dinner waned around midnight, meant you were wide awake in total darkness. There is no sound of the men moving around, probably still stick to their old military routine and don’t stay up late. Perfect! You could test the fall from your window.  

You have a vague memory of being told to lie flat on your back, while protecting your neck and head with your hands in the event of an elevator crash. You hope that same logic applies to jumping out a second story window. Time to test the theory, you guess. 

As soon as the window is open and you figure out how to pop the screen out, your nerves slam into you. You were crazy for thinking this was a good idea! You could break your back! But what was worse, staying here and potentially never being let go or jumping out of a window like a lunatic? 

Your brain takes all of three seconds to answer that; lunatic option it is. 

Trying to fit yourself through the window without causing yourself more pain was like fitting a square in a circle hole. You are unable to figure out a way through without pulling on the healing muscles in your side. 

You were ready to give up, exhaustion and pain starting to become intolerable, when you give it one last chance. Putting your injured side on the sill first, breathing for a few minutes to calm the pain, then putting the rest of your lower body out the window and finally slowly getting the top half of you out. 

You stare down at the ground—holding on to the sides of the window for dear life—the drop seems endless, like a void ready and waiting to swallow you whole. Your heart was in your throat as you try to breathe through the panic, not that it was helping. You realize you will have to push off the window quickly or you will never commit yourself to go through with this idiotic plan. 

3. 

2. 

1. 

Push. 

You thought the fall would last longer, feel more like you were floating in the air as your life flashed before your eyes. Instead, it was like one minute you were looking down at the ground and the next, you were looking up at the stars trying to peak through the curtain of clouds. 

You wanted to scream as the pain bloomed throughout your body, but you had no breath, and you would wake the werewolves if you did. You slapped your hand over your mouth while tears stung your eyes and your mouth opened in a silent scream.  

This truly was the worst plan you could have thought of. You hurt worse than before—you doubted cushioning your head actually helped as your head is burst with pain—and still had no idea where this house was or even what direction was north. You could possibly stumble around in the woods for days and never find civilization again.  

Was it really so bad to stay? It’s not like they treated you horribly. Sure, it was awful to not be allowed to make your own decisions, but what they had done was keep you safe and make sure you rested. Were you just dramatic? 

The gnawing thoughts of crying out for them to rescue you is becoming all consuming. It’s too bad you are too damn stubborn; you were going to find a way home or die trying. They were not going to be your safety net to fall back on because you regret your decision.  

You have to slowly work your body into standing up, the pain intensifying every time you move. It felt as though someone had shoved razor blades inside you and every time you moved, the blades would cut you up inside. You need to keep taking multiple breaks to breathe through the pain before continuing. 

Once finally standing, you realize blood was starting to soak into your shirt, the bandages barely doing anything to stem the flow. It is fine, you will be fine, don’t freak out. You will get to a road or neighbor’s house and get some medical attention. But you must start moving. 

Your walk is slow, your body wants to collapse, but you refuse to let it. You stumble to the ground for the first few steps, muffling screams even though it feels like you are pulling apart your own muscles every time you fall. Once across the clearing the house rests in, you use trees to help bear some of your weight as you push through.  

After a few minutes of walking, you can’t shake the feeling of unease, like something was watching you. Keeping you in its line of sight until it finds the perfect moment to strike. You throw glances over your shoulder—looking, searching—but ultimately finding nothing.  

The feeling grows worse by how eerie it is to not hear any animals, or even bugs, making noise. Like they share your same fear and think being quiet will make the thing go away. All you can hear is the sounds of your hastily thrown on shoes and the leaves and branches that crunch under your feet. The sounds making you think you can hear steps mimicking your pace, trying to hide its presence from you. You think that every time you stop abruptly, it will take an extra step after you, not expecting the change in movement. You never hear it when you try.  

Trying to placate yourself that it was just the sound of your steps bouncing off the trees and that the quiet stillness was frazzling your nerves. Despite your fears, you feel you are making good progress; not as quick as you can go, but as good as you can considering the circumstance. Your body is screaming for a break, deciding to be lenient to yourself and lean against a tree. The blood stain on your shirt was getting worse, starting to drip down to your pants. You worry you will bleed out before you can find help, but that is irrational. Right? Humans have a lot of blood, you might need a blood transfusion once you arrive at a hospital, but you can risk bleeding some more. 

You can still only hear the sounds you make. Still, something was off. Closing your eyes to hone in to whatever the animals hear that was making them so silent. The quiet stretches on as you listen closely, nothing but your harsh panting audible. 

You sigh, opening your eyes to look forward to plan the next part of your journey, trying to see where to go to avoid the rougher terrain you had seen ahead. Though your vision is obstructed by a ginormous wolf that stares back at you; it’s fur black as night but with white around its face where you think the skull underneath would look like. White where there would be bone, black where tissue, cartilage, and ligaments would be. The sight tearing a scream from your throat; your legs getting twisted up in the roots of the tree as you try to quickly back away from it, causing you to tumble to the ground. You scramble back on hands and feet quickly, before flipping over to hands and knees to get back on your feet. You stop abruptly at the sight of boots in front of your face. 

You gasp, the fear and terror dropping into the pit of your stomach. You don’t want to look up, already knowing who will be standing over you. Your mind tells you that closing your eyes will make them disappear, like a figment of your imagination, but you know it is illogical. Nothing can save you here. 

John wanted to sigh in annoyance, be angry that you would do something this absurd. He truly isn’t surprised; his boys had, sadly, done dumber things to get out of being bedridden. Though jumping out of a window is a first.  

Simon shifts from paw to paw behind your trembling form, watching like a hawk for any sudden movements he deems as fleeing. His amazing hunting and stalking skills still shining through even now. John knows he could have found you just fine by himself, due to the small blood trail you left in your wake, but Simon hasn’t had a good hunt in ages, and he was just itching for John to ask for his assistance. 

Your slow movements of sitting back on your heals to look up at John is what makes his gaze flick back to you. You look at him with detest, like he slaughtered your whole family in front of you and was taking you as his prize. Such a stubborn pup. 

“Done yet?” He asks, pretending he doesn’t know you won’t attempt this again, spite fueling your drive to repeat the same action regardless of consequences.  

“No.” You say obdurately. John has to suppress his laugh at your bullheadedness. They will have their hands full trying to keep you inside the house. He won’t admit it is a small bit fun to have a new pup who is this stubborn, he hasn’t had to wrestle one of his boys this hard in a long time. 

John crouches to your height, leveling you with the gaze of a disappointed father. “Since you want to act like an unruly pup, I’ll treat you like one. You’re sleeping in our room tonight and one of us must be with you at all times.” 

John sees how your defiance warps into fear and anger. All wind leaving your sails as you try not to give into the part of your mind telling you to beg to free yourself from this predicament. Not that it will help you.  

He scoops you up into his arms, orders given and time to return to base. He has to grip you tight as you start to thrash in his hold and curse at him, saying how you refuse to sleep in a bed full of kidnappers and that you will take your chances with the actual wolves. 

John let’s you have your fit—get your anger out before getting settled for bed for the night—as Simon trots behind the two of you. He had dealt with six pups of various levels of unruliness and learned it’s best to just let them get that fight out. After you’ll be tired, all fight leaving your body and the anger that has a hold on you. It’ll be easier to address your wounds, and you won’t piss someone off because you refuse to sleep out of pure spite. 

By the time they are back to the house, you are trying to muffle the quiet sobs leaving you. The realization that trying to escape werewolves will be impossible if they can locate you that quickly; you will die here. Your body, and that of the man who tried to kill you, will be buried in some shallow grave on this property. Your family and friends never knowing what happened to you. One moment you were there and the next a ghost in the wind. Another missing person poster weathered with age, but ultimately never found. 

All of the others are waiting in the kitchen as you watch the door to escape close behind John. You refuse to look up, want to pretend none of this is happening and that your back home and some nice stranger brought you to your home because they were worried about your safety.  

John is giving orders, you don’t care to listen to them. You can see Simon’s outline stand to his full wolf height through your tears. The black shape stretching from a small mass on the floor to a void nearly reaching the ceiling. You can’t make out more than the dark shape of him as he moves around on two legs, not till he is so close you can smell his breath. You feel a soft pad and coarse fur brush under your right eye, the claws attached to the hand just barely touching your cheek, though the sharpness to them takes your breath away. Not dull like a dogs, but sharp like a cats; you could see how easily they could cut through flesh and the thought terrified you. 

You hide your face in John’s neck, unsettled with Simon and his hovering. He seems to get the idea as he is moving past John and out of your line of sight. You think that will be the end of the weird wolf nonsense for the night. Finally, you will be able to breath a sigh of relief; that is till a deep angry growl makes your entire body freeze on the spot while you cling tightly to John. The asshole only laughs—at what you expect is your misery—unknowing or caring for what caused the growl as long as it isn’t you.  

John couldn’t help the chuckle as he watches Johnny drop Simon’s tail after pulling on it as he passed by. Cheeky twat. But that is the silent rule of the house; if you don’t want your tail pulled, don’t wolf out in the house unless you willingly accept the consequences.  

He rubs your arm, soothing your panic from hearing your first werewolf growl. The growl was not aggressive even though it sounded so. Simon has the deepest growl, which had been mistaken as aggression in the past and not the playful tone it was meant to be. The best example was now, the deep growl is followed by the ever-tiny sway of Simon’s tail that showed he wasn’t annoyed like he pretended to be.  

You will get used to it. All the growling, nipping, rough housing, and aggressive affection that they share between the seven of them. It will take a while for you to learn how they work, but you are clearly smart, you will figure it out. 

John passes you off to Nik, sending his boys off to take care of you while he handles a delicate situation. He waits for you to be back in your room to be assessed for damages, pulling his phone out to call an old friend.  

You get up and continue walking while listening intently for anything useful. Price voice sounds steady so whatever injury he suffered wasn't fatal. You hope that with him there's a better chance for Ms Maple to get away and if not, then at least it wouldn't be the captain interrogating her about your whereabouts. Most people expect Ghost to be the worst one, but he's simply intimidating enough to make people say what he needs to hear. Price on the other hand is much more cunning than one would expect, using everything at his disposal until the person says anything he wants to hear.

From the distance you can see the roof of the cabin, slowing down your pace and looking around carefully for any traps. There are a few small ones for animals, but nothing that seems to have been intended for you. In their minds you guess that they thought they'll be able to bring you back kicking and screaming or that you would have tried to get as far away as possible from this place.

If you make it out of this entire situation in one piece, you're gonna have a few words with Laswell because none of the 141 still alive is gonna get a honorable discharge. There is a chance that Philip might implicate himself further just to mess with them, if an investigation were to begin he would be more than willing to testify against your former teammeats. Of course, then your secret would get revealed too and the years of decieving a governamental institution and fabricating medical evidence would be used against you. Maybe get you court martialed just to have the conflict involving high-ranked military men swept under the rug as swiftly as possible. The thought of it brings a sour taste in your mouth.

How did it come to this? None of your prospects looked promising and because no higher-up in the military will bother to acknowledge the injustice that was done to you, this is the least revenge you can get. If you make it out alive, you'll still have to lay low after that, change your identity, moving to another country doesn't sound like a bad idea either. That's not the scenario you had in mind when picturing your retirement, but it will have to do.

Maybe that's why you end up going against your better judgement. You could plant the explosive here, the cabin would still blow off and yet it doesn't feel like enough. It's that damn basement that still bothers you, the sight of those concrete walls will keep following you for the rest of your life. The pain in your ankle a sharp reminder of the way they treated you, looking down at the bandage you notice that some blood flowed through the gauze, all that running around must have opened the wound.

It's a foolish thing to do, but what other kind of proper retribution are you gonna get? Not from the military or any other institution, not from your family or anyone else. This might all be a big mistake that might cost you everything, but at least it's yours alone to make.

Moving steadily, you make your way to the back of the cabin, trying to peer inside through the window. When nothing happens, you take a deep breath and push open the window, only later to think over how awfully convenient it was to be unlocked. The place looks as desolated as it did last time, there hadn't even been the full 24 hours since you've left and yet it seems like you're returning after a long absence. There are a few flies flying around what seem to be the remains of breakfast, a few crumbs on the floor. Despite the open window, the air is stale, the smell of Price's cigars still lingering in the room.

You can't help but imagine how they must have looked like sitting there this morning. How did they talked about you? Did they badmouthed you or Price did that thing where everybody dances around the problem without mentioning it? There hasn't been any sound from the radio for a while now. The last thing you heard was Gaz saying he'll call for support and by the lack of protest from Price you suspect that he must have gotten injured pretty badly. Surprisingly the knowkedge doesn't bring you any sense of happiness or comfort, it's a hollow feeling crawling into your chest that you're not sure what it means.

Better get this over with then. As you are about to go to the basement, something catches your eye. The light outside gives it a gentle glimmer and you recognize them in an instant, the engraved letters arrange themselves neatly one after the other into your full name. Laying on the small table are your dog tags, they weren't there the last time you came up so Price must have taken them out this morning. You briefly wondered what happened to them after waking up downstairs a few weeks ago, but after the first few days it was just something else they took from you along with your freedom.

You're not sure why, but something compels you to take them, slipping them around your neck, the chain cold against the skin. They no longer hold any value for you and yet in the moment you find that you can't bear to part with them again. Are they suppose to be some kind of keepsake or a good luck charm now? Or maybe you just felt like taking them simply because you could. There was no other thought at play except the childish whim that you saw something you wanted and then took it for yourself. You bitterly wonder if that's how your former teammates saw the situation too. Did they even bother to justify their actions to themselves? At least this was something that was actually yours from the begining, reclaiming it was justified.

Regretting every step you take down the stairs, you clench your teeth through it all, trying to put as little pressure on your ankle as you can, a relief when you finally make it to the last step. The door is wide open, barely avoiding stepping in what you think are the remains of some oats, the bits of food hardened and stucked to the floor. Making your way towards the bed, you take out the explosive and set it to go off in the next half an hour, that should allow you plenty of time to get far enough.

The thought of just staying here and waiting for it to go off briefly crosses your mind. It might be easier that way, not having to spend the next who knows how many years running and hiding away. With your finger hovering over the button, you decide to at least try to go on for a little while longer. There are far more beautiful places you would rather spend the last moments of your life than this basement. Pressing the button, you turn around and try to make your way out the door when you notice a familiar shape blocking your path.

At the head of the stairs there's Ghost staring down at you almost like he was already expecting you. He doesn't say anything for a few seconds as you're carefully monitoring his every move until he takes a step closer. You don't get to aim the gun at him before he draws out one of knives and jumps towards you.