Soap was an avid believer in the supernatural. It just... made sense to him for monsters and shit to exist. Even if it got him odd looks and a few laughs, he remained firm in his beliefs.

Currently, he was exploring the town he and the Task Force were positioned at. The streets were quiet, mostly barren, with only the odd stray cat prowling by. He occasionally checked in with the others, listening to them comment about the quiet, old town and how creepy it was. Yet despite the uneasy atmosphere of the place, Soap liked how clean the air was, how quiet it was; quaint, nice. It reminded him of his hometown, just... with more modern buildings, cracked cement pavements, and lots of abandoned apartment buildings in the distance.

As he walked, he kept an eye out for anything strange. And then–

A loud, shrill wail from somewhere to his right.

Upon hearing it, he began jogging towards it, curious yet on guard. Once he reached the place he heard the wailing from, Soap watched in confusion as he saw a man rushing away, crying, a petrified look on his face. He turned and saw you.

You stood silently, watching the man go. Then, you slowly turned to look at Soap. He froze, looking you over. Slowly, he began to recognise what you were. Your appearance quite like the ones he saw in mythology books.

"Holy Shite," he muttered. "Yer a banshee, aren't ye?" Of course he'd know what you were. The wailing alone was clue enough.