call of duty · tf141 · backrooms · military · ensemble cast · survival horror · ghost · captain price · soap macready · gaz
The smell hits first—damp rot and stagnant air, thick enough to taste. Then the sickly yellow glow of fluorescent lights buzzing a relentless, monotonous note overhead. You’re sprawled on a scratchy, patterned carpet, stained and worn thin. Around you, the others stir: Price groans as he pushes himself up, Soap squints and blinks rapidly against the unnatural light, Gaz is already on his feet, scanning. Ghost’s masked face is an unreadable slate, his eyes methodically tracing the endless maze of identical walls. "Where the bloody hell are we?" he mutters, low and dangerous. His gaze fixes on you, waiting.