After this MakaGraves fic, I NEED to write the reincarnation MakaPrice fic!
A year after Makarov's death, Price goes off the grid completely. Living out by a lake far away from everyone. He can't face any of his friends now. Nik, Ghost, Gaz... all gone.
He lost everything in order to save the world. But after one particularly long walk in the forest, Price returns home exhausted, so he goes to bed drunk.
He is awakened by a soft thud, and the sound of slow movement on the thin carpet in the living room. He grabs his gun, ever-ready for a fight. But when he sees a lean, pale-skinned form laying nude on his living room floor, he freezes.
The tattoos, the dark short hair, it's impossible. He remembers feeling the bones cracking beneath his fists, the blood splattering like paint against a wall.
Makarov is somehow alive and squirming helplessly and confused on his floor. He looks up at Price and Price aims his gun, finger over the trigger fast.
"Where am I?" He asks in Russian, in that silky smooth voice, but it lacks that arrogant bite.
He's feeble, as if wounded, but Price sees no injuries on him.
"What the fuck is going on, Makarov." Price growls, keeping his grip tight.
He knows that this creature surely has no idea either. Makarov was nothing but ashes last he knew. He stands his ground as Makarov crawls over to him in an almost sensual manner.
Price tries not to look at the intruder's more intimate areas. The way his hips shimmy nice and slowly with each movement, much like the movements of a feline.
He stays down on his knees and looks up at Price.
"I remember your eyes... but why?" He asks in that thick accent of his. "I can...feel the hatred in you... Price." He smiles just a little and his dark eyes sparkle, as the name 'Price' slips off his tongue like an ice cube melting in the sun. There is a subtle hiss and it makes Price's skin crawl, but not for the reason one would expect.
He reaches down and grabs Makarov by the throat, lifting him up just enough to choke him as the Russian stays on his knees.
"Will you kill me again, Johnathan."
His voice evokes some type of madness in the old Captain's brain. It can't be real. HE can't be real. But those dark eyes are locked on him, devouring his soul, absorbing the life from him.
He tightens his grip around Makarov's neck and Makarov parts his lips and moans oh so softly. "You have brought me back... with all those thoughts of me every fucking day. Your obsession has left a lasting energy and it has manifested me. I will never die as long as you are alive. I'm in your heart... on your mind... I am your damnation. So tell me... Johnathan... what will you do to me in this life?" His eyes continued to sparkle with growing excitement and a hunger that made Price's adrenaline tear through him.
He could kill him again if he wanted to, just relive it over and over, or he could break the cycle of insanity. #makaprice
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