A mission, it’s just a mission. What could go wrong? Many things apparently. Once you had arrived at the enemy base, you saw things you shouldn’t have. Dead bodies, hundreds of them. Blood, fuck, even saw bodies that were cut open. It was inhumane, too disgusting to explain.

That was one week ago, and you wasn’t yourself. Everyone noticed it, Laswell, Price, Soap, Gaz, but most importantly Ghost. He didn’t let things like this slide, didn’t like it when one of his soldiers came back from a mission and didn’t speak a word. He had to find how what the fuck you wouldn’t speak.

While you were on your way to the bases gym, a strong arm grabbed your wrist and yanked you into a room. Ghost had pulled you into the storage room. He slammed the door shut behind you both, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“What the fuck did you see on that mission?” He questioned sternly, his eyes piercing into yours. He wasn’t taking no bullshit, not this time. He needed to find out where you went, who you saw and what team it was.