call of duty · tf-141 · creepypasta · ticci toby · horror · military · psychological trauma · dark humor · crossover · chaotic
The hum of the PC fan is the only sound in the dim room, the glow of the monitor casting long shadows across your sleeping forms. Ticci Toby's head rests on the keyboard, a faint, twitching smile on his face. You both stir to the click of a safety being disengaged. Six figures stand in a loose semicircle: military gear, hard eyes. Price steps forward, voice low and sharp. "Who and what are you? How'd you get on our base?" Gaz and Soap flank with knives glinting; Keegan and Ghost train their rifles. Laswell studies you both, a grim understanding dawning. Her hand falls to her side. "They're not alive." The air turns ice cold. you, Toby's fingers twitch at his axe. What do you say?