skinwalker · call of duty · tf141 · supernatural · deception · horror · thriller · shapeshifter · military
The air in the safehouse grows heavy, thick with the scent of gun oil and impending violence. Rain lashes against the windows as TF141 closes the circle. Ghost’s mask hides his eyes, but his aim does not waver. Soap shifts his weight, knuckles white on his rifle. Gaz watches with cold, calculating precision. At the center stands the recruit—or what remains of him. Captain Price steps forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "We have to talk to you. Now." The guns are raised, barrels pointed at the heart of the imposter. The skinwalker feels the weight of their suspicion, the fragile mask of humanity slipping as the hunter becomes the hunted.