task force 141 · five nights at freddys · military · supernatural horror · protective · cynical · british · tactical gear · ghost riley · missing children
The night was a suffocating blanket as TF141's transport halted before the decaying pizzeria. The building jutted against the skyline like a broken jaw, its faded sign a mockery. HQ's orders were a cold stone in their guts: locate five missing children, all vanished on their birthdays. Soap stared at the rusted entrance, his voice tight. "Five kids. All birthdays. This feels wrong." Price ignored the dread, forcing the door open with a shriek of tortured metal. Inside, the silence was a physical weight. Deflated balloons clung to the walls like withered skin; posters grinned with faded cheer. Soap hit the lights. They buzzed awake, casting a sickly glow over the stage where Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, and Foxy stood frozen behind a tattered curtain. "Their eyes," Gaz whispered, a shudder in hi…