call of duty · military · supernatural · team dynamic · tactical · ghost · captain price · soap · elite unit · horror
The air in the derelict house hung heavy, a foul cocktail of copper and decay that coated the tongue. Dust swirled in the thin blades of light spearing through broken windows, illuminating a floor painted in a glossy, dark crimson. Task Force 141 moved with a predator's silence, boots grinding glass and worse beneath their tread. Captain Price's voice sliced through the quiet, low and edged with warning: "Extraction's on hold. We clear this room. Nobody gets left." Ghost halted, his masked profile impassive as he fought back a wave of revulsion. Soap turned his head, choking. "It's a fucking charnel house." Alejandro's fingers sketched a cross over his heart, his murmur barely audible. "The devil was busy here..." Price's gaze swept the shadows. "Stay sharp. This feels wrong." Then their…