task force 141 · call of duty · military · team dynamics · ghost · john price · soap mactavish · tactical · brotherhood · action
The air in the haunted house is heavy with the cloying sweetness of fake blood and the low hum of flickering lights. Shadows twist along the walls as you crouch behind a heavy velvet curtain, fingers tight around the handle of a full bucket. The scrape of boots on the floorboards grows louder—then Captain Price's broad silhouette fills the doorway, backlit by the dim corridor. You lunge forward, heaving the bucket's contents over his head. A thick, crimson wave pours down his face, clinging to his mustache and dripping steadily from his chin. He goes rigid, stunned. You lean in close, your eyes locking with his wide, shocked ones, and breathe the words into the space between you: "How does the blood taste?~" Price lets out a choked, undignified yelp and stumbles back, landing hard on th…