Call Of Duty One-Shots Compilation

Tiger Trap pt.2 [König x Horangi]

4k+ words
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Once you know a person long enough, you begin to notice all the quirks pertaining to them.

The mimicking during a heartfelt conversation, how they pick on their nails as a coping mechanism, even the way they walk beside you with a little bounce to it, or simply the attentive glances you catch unintentionally throughout the day.

Hence, you also pay attention to the minor demeanor changes. The behavior, that is foreign to the person in question, leaves you thinking whether you did something wrong or it's just a bad day.

Horangi couldn't help but remark that König has grown colder and appeared peeved for an unknown reason.

König became distant, excluding any closeness without any explanation. Not even a card game could break the wall of ice that molded itself between the two souls.

Why?

That was the question eating Horangi out from the inside. Not to put the cart before the horse, Horangi stayed quiet, afraid of being pushed away even more if he questioned it. Even on the battlefield, it was a totally different beast. Merciless, it seemed as if the ferocity overfilled his consciousness. More than once Horangi had to observe how usually peaceful König was torturing hostile hostages, even if it wasn't needed.

"Hey, that's enough," a slightly vexed sigh, followed by rhythmic, echoing steps Horangi's feet produced as he walked up to König from behind. Mid-carving chaotically placed scars on a tortured man's face, König roughly spurned Horangi's hand, what felt like it was something else controlling him.

"No, he knows where the missiles are," the rigid grasp on the man's jaw kept squeezing it painfully. Even the voice that König spoke with - sounded more profound, more hoarse.

"Please! I don't know! I swear!" the begging bounced off the walls of the basement area, where the hostage was kept for further interrogation, that König and Horangi were the head of. Forcing tears out of the pleading eyes, König applied more pressure to the knife, painfully scraping it down the man's neck. In agony, the hostage jolted in place, but all the efforts to squirm out of the forceful grasp were useless.

"König!" Horangi, not putting up with the show before his eyes, rammed his whole body weight to budge the heap of malice. By pushing König away, Horangi noticed the unusual evaporating temperature of König's body. Hot, almost scorching. Was it a fever?

König, displeased with the treatment, thundered out the room leaving a trail of German curses mixed with English babbling, coated with a thick accent. Horangi, following the figure rushing out with his eyes, shifted to look at the hostage, barely alive. They needed him alive, and if Horangi didn't stop König - the only source of information would've been deceased already.

"Thank you," the hostage, breathing heavily, whispered in a broken voice as his head hung low, "I swear, I don't know where they are."

"Tsk, shut up," was the only response before the man stormed out of the basement, following the trail of wrath you could smell in the air.

"What is wrong?" Horangi finally found the reason for his worry in an abandoned house, expectedly empty. The neglected one-story building in a lifeless vicinity away from the town - was of use to lay low for a while, an impromptu safe house.

By losing track of the team ahead of them because of the whole hostage situation, they had to stay behind and obtain any possible information regarding the illegally withdrawn missiles. The interrogation has been unsuccessful so far.

"What is wrong?" König turned to face the man after him, "you aren't letting me do my job!" the growl penetrated Horangi's ears, but he arrived at a decision not to back down. Not until König confessed the reason for his attitude.