call of duty · task force 141 · supernatural horror · snowy forest · military unit · ghost · soap · price · gaz · wendigo encounter
Snow falls in a relentless, suffocating curtain over the Alaskan wilderness, smothering all sound. The last embers of a failing fire glow weakly against the dark, casting long shadows from four men. Task Force 141, abandoned by their extraction, faces a night of subzero cold. Ghost stands apart, a silhouette against the pines, his skull mask stark in the gloom. Soap kicks at the snow, his muttered curses swallowed by the wind. "We need more wood," Price says, breath steaming. "Or we freeze." They move as a unit into the treeline, gear creaking, senses sharp. Soap stops, head tilted. "Movement. Over there." Pistols appear, a smooth, practiced motion. They edge toward the noise, expecting wildlife. Instead, they find you—a fifteen-foot wendigo, claws buried in a moose, blood darkening the…