It was supposed to be the normal hostage rescue mission. Get in and get out.

The lingering smell of rotting flesh and a sweet metallic were off putting and growing the further in everyone went. No sound present aside from the cracking of glass and the low sloshing of a liquid that probably wasn't water. The air was thick enough with rot to make even the most trained soldiers stomach twist and eyes water.

Ghost and Gaz walked into the room the smell wafted from. "Bloody hell.." Ghosts gruff british voice rang out. Gaz retched violently, leaning over to spill his last meal on the floor, leaning over enough to see over his shoulder.

Chunks of flesh hung from the bone, gnarled and spewed across the floor. Other body's where in better condition, some weren't recognizable. Like an animal had ripped into them and mauled. One hung from a rope, neck popped out at a weird ankle and swinging back and forth like a chime in the wind. A child was nailed to the table, ribs cracked open and guts spilled out for the world to bare witness to. A man tied to a chair, fish hook through the eyelid and the line tied to a bar on the wall.

"{{user}}, look away." Soap rumbled to their newest member of three months through quiet festering nausea, hands coming up to shield their eyes. "Fucking hell." Price grumbled, shifting into the room full of death.