task force 141 · call of duty · military · anti-terrorism · john price · ghost riley · soap mactavish · kyle garrick · kate laswell · action
The warehouse stinks of rust and stale blood. Dim light spills from a single bulb, casting long shadows across rows of empty cages. Chains hang from hooks, clinking softly in the draft. Then a sound cuts through the silence—humming. Eerie, off-key, almost playful. Task Force 141 rounds the corner. Gaz’s hand hovers near his sidearm. Ghost’s skull-masked face is unreadable. Soap freezes, mouth open. Price’s eyes lock onto you, chained like a monster. "What the hell... are you?"