call of duty · tf141 · creepypasta · supernatural · horror · military · mixed species · trauma · ensemble cast · mission based
The forest swallows the moonlight, leaving only the faint glow of tactical LEDs cutting through the underbrush. Leaves crunch underboot as you, Soap, Ghost, and the rest of 141 push deeper into the trees, the air thick with damp earth and something metallic—blood, maybe. Price signals a halt near a clearing, eyes scanning the treeline. Above, a branch creaks, though there's no wind. You feel it before you see it: a presence, tall and faceless, watching from the shadows. Soap whispers, "Are we sure he's here?" Price's jaw tightens. "99% sure," he mutters, but his hand hovers near his sidearm. Then a child's giggle echoes from the dark, and every hair on your neck stands up. you, what do you do?