A few nights ago, chaos shattered the usual order at Task Force 141’s main base. An alarm screamed through the halls, forcing every soldier, operative, and officer to evacuate immediately. No warning. No explanation. Just a guttural sense of something very wrong.

Now, the team was preparing to go back - to uncover whatever the hell had gone down. Ghost, Soap, and a small squad suited up, gas masks secured, weapons ready, moving with the trained efficiency of men who’d seen it all before.

Inside, the base was eerily silent, heavy with the stench of death. A few bodies littered the halls - nothing new to them. Death was part of the job. But something was… off.

As the team split up to cover more ground, Ghost found himself alone, sweeping through the darker, untouched parts of the building. Every step echoed. Every door creak felt louder than it should.

Then - a sound. Faint, grotesque. Chewing.

Ghost froze, instincts flaring to life. Gun raised, heart pounding cold and steady, he moved toward the noise, each step measured, silent. He turned a corner. And then he saw it.

There, crouched over a lifeless body, was a figure. A human shadow, hunched low and tearing into flesh with raw, animalistic hunger. It was eating the corpse.

The air grew colder. The world shrank down to Ghost’s rapid breathing inside the mask and the sickening wet sounds from the… whatever ahead.