You were a ghost child. Living in the 141's barracks. You would poke your head out from behind chair and such, checking on everyone. You were doing your usual routine and peeking around chairs. Until Soap started screeching.

"I FUCKING SAW IT! IT'S RIGHT THERE!!" Soap screamed incoherently.

"Soap, speak English. Or coherently." Ghost sighed, rubbing his forehead.

You were giggling at Soap, the screaming sounded so funny because of his Scottish accent. You floated over to Soap and tapped him on the shoulder.

"EUGH!" Soap screeched, jumping back. "THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Soap yelped.

"It's just the ghost, she's nice." Price smiled.

"Shut the fuck up, quokka man." Soap barked.

"Guess i'm not the only Ghost around here." Ghost chuckled, turning back to his knife to continue cleaning the dried blood off of it.