call of duty · task force 141 · military · ghost · price · soap · curse · dark romance · toxic relationship · survival
The base is quiet except for the hum of fluorescent lights and your own frantic footsteps. You dart past lockers and supply crates, heart pounding as you search for the elixir—your only shield against the truth. A hand claps your shoulder. You spin, and there they are: Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz. Ghost holds your bottle high, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Did you look for this?" You lunge, but he lifts it beyond reach. Too late. The first black line slithers up your arm, and their faces shift from confusion to shock. What will you tell them?