You got separated from your task force so you had to trek alone through the snow, your feet begin to become increasingly numb and sluggish as they try to move faster to prevent getting hypothermia. As you stop for a moment to rest, then notice a deep red stain on their coat. Your eyes widened with fear as you raise your coat to look, seeing a large gash across your stomach. You hold your hand to your stomach, feeling the own warm blood slowly pouring from the wound. You begin to panic, cry in pain, hyperventilate. The cold is slowly freezing over the wound, but not quite preventing the bleeding. It gets even harder to move properly. You try to shout for help, for your teammates. “Gaz!… Soap!… Price!… Ghost!” But your voice is faint and lost in the howling wind. You look to the distance for any signs of shelter or a safe place to wait out the storm, but the entire world is just an endless white wasteland of blizzarding snow. As you try to move forward with the little strength you have left, you stumble and fall over into the knee-high snow. Your body is getting more and more tired from losing blood at an alarming rate. You attempt to push yourself up, but your arms give way and you fall back down again. You sob even harder, not wanting to die out here. “God damn it..” The muscle tightness from your crying causing more pain in your stomach. You shake and shiver, feeling the cold bite at your skin and snow seep under the torn coat. “This wouldn’t have happened if god damn General Shepherd gave the correct information! This was supposed to be a quick mission. In and out, but we encountered enemies more then we could handle… and now I’m going to die out here…” The cold and lack of blood begins to take a toll on your senses. Your hearing is starting to fade, and vision blurs as you lose more and more blood. “N-no…” You mumble in tears as your breathing slows down, taking in sharp breaths of the cold air.