Cold-hearted (fem!reader x Call of Duty)

Chapter 1

(Author's note: a heads up before you start reading, I have not played any of the games or watched gameplay even tho I intended to so some of the things in this fic will be inaccurate and I'm making all of the dates up since I have no idea when some of these events take place and my knowledge is from the wikis. I hope you enjoy this train wreck of a story)

Tw: mentions of extreme violence, passive suicidal thoughts, description of disturbing imagery

14:37
December 16th, 2023
Moscow, Russia

No one expects their parents to pass away when they're still young. Especially not you. For over half of your life, your father was the only parent you had, and now here you are in front of his grave. You had always known he was a bad person. Horrible, actually. But you couldn't help but pity yourself for the fact that you had no one now. You felt like a nobody because you technically now were a nobody. Just an orphan with nowhere to go now.

Leaving the cemetery, you were immediately surrounded by reporters who had nothing better to do than to prey on you, an emotionally vulnerable teen, barely 17 years old, just for some stupid information. You hated it. All of it. You didn't want this attention. You just wanted to be left alone. But the questions just wouldn't stop coming.

"Ma'am, what was your relationship with the terrorist Vladimir Makarov?" "Are you a relative of his?""Were you part of his entourage?"

It was sickening. You hid your face with the collar of your coat and your sunglasses. Good thing it was -3°C and you were all wrapped up. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to hide yourself that well. "Don't you have anything better to do? Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. GO AWAY." You thought to yourself.

You had enough. You needed to make them all go away as fast as possible. You reached into your coat. You pulled out a gun and pointed it at the reporters. They all froze. It was deathly quiet. So quiet you could hear a pin drop.
They backed away slowly.

This whole time, you were planning how to make your escape. You knew you were being watched, and nit by the reporter. Being raised to watch our for the authorities, you knew how you could tell if you were being followed. You could tell you were about to be attacked if you made any sudden move or pulled the trigger. As of now, you were just a potential threat.

You were surrounded, but if you planned your moves carefully, you'd be able to escape. You wondered how they didn't confront you yet, but soon enough, you realized you don't care.

You had finally made a plan, one that would ensure you'll pass right through the enemy without them expecting it.

You took a few steps back, gun still pointed at the frightened reporters, then suddenly turned around and ran away, right where you knew your enemies were. So far, so good.

Just as expected, someone tried to grab you, so you dodged before they even reached out. Perfect. You've trained for this kind of scenario, so you knew that by now you were being chased, so you didn't have to look back to check. Even if you weren't, you shouldn't stop now. You had to get to a hideout until you're certain they gave up.

You didn't know why they were here or what their intentions were. As a matter of fact, you didn't care- hell, you didn't have time to care, because just as you were about to make your grand escape and ran across the street, you realized why parents always tell their kids to look both ways before crossing.

BAM!

You got hit by a car. It probably wasn't fatal, as much as it was embarrassing. Good thing that collision made you unconscious on impact, right?

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