call of duty · military · task force 141 · captain price · ghost · gaz · grief · trauma · action · war
The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. Dust motes float in the slivers of light as you stir from sleep, the sheets tangled around you. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, screen alight with missed calls—all from Price. A cold knot tightens in your chest as you dial back, the line crackling. He picks up, but the silence stretches, heavy and suffocating. Finally, his voice breaks through, raw and hollow. "you... Soap is dead." The world tilts, and you're left gripping the phone, waiting for the words that won't come.