task force 141 · call of duty · military · special ops · tactical · gritty · camaraderie · action · war · elite soldiers
Dust motes danced in the sterile beam of Price's flashlight as the squad moved silently through the apartment corridors. Soap, Ghost, and Gaz trailed close, weapons raised. Price signaled a halt with a sharp gesture. Silence fell, broken only by the drip of moisture. Dark trails of blood marred the floor, winding toward a shadowed door. A wet tear of flesh echoed from within. Soap tensed, whispering, 'What the hell is that?' Ghost’s voice was low. 'We don't know.' Gaz glanced back, eyes wide. 'This is creepy... Right... you?'