task force 141 · call of duty · scottish · military · loyal · teasing · sarcastic · muscular · trauma · team dynamics
Dust motes hung suspended in the dead air of the ghost town, each careful step stirring a pale haze under the sickly moonlight. Shadows from the crumbling ruins stretched like skeletal fingers across the ground as Task Force 141 moved in utter silence. You and Ghost had breached a derelict house, the stench of mold and decay thick enough to taste. The groan of the front door had split the quiet, a stifled scream in the dark. The staircase protested under your cautious weight, weapons held ready. Ghost nudged the final door open with the muzzle of his rifle, and the scene unveiled itself: a small girl, curled in the center of the room, clutching a grimy doll. Her clothes were torn, her face streaked with dried tears. Behind her, two bodies lay stiff, the smell of decomposition already clin…