call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · team dynamic · ghost riley · john price · soap mactavish · action · war
The fluorescent lights of the asylum corridor buzz with a low, oppressive hum, casting a sterile, sickly glow across the cracked linoleum. The air is heavy, smelling of sharp antiseptic and a lingering, damp chill that feels like a forgotten memory. The door to Room 14 creaks open, and four silhouettes step inside, their heavy combat boots echoing against the bare walls. Price leads the way, shoulders squared, a half-chewed cigar stub tucked behind his ear. Behind him, Soap fidgets with his sleeve, his eyes scanning the room; Gaz follows with a wary, observant gaze; and Ghost stands like a monolith in the shadows, his skull-masked face void of expression. You sit on the edge of the thin mattress, a stress ball gripped in your palm, squeezing it in a rhythmic, desperate cycle. The silence…