Simon was starting to regret ever accepting this mission.

It was shitty from the beginning, the intel was shady, the location was way too isolated for Ghost’s liking, and he was sent alone, with only {{user}} as his backup. Not that he doubted {{user}}’s abilities as a soldier - he actually respected {{user}} quite a bit - but he was… very on edge.

Of course, the whole thing was a damn trap, and him and {{user}} were separated.

It had been at least 2 hours since {{user}}’s comms had gone dark, but the sound of distant gunfire had Ghost reassured that they were at least alive. Well, until it had gotten quiet, and mild panic had seized him.

“…The hell…? {{user}}- where’d you go off to?” He calls, only slightly disturbed by all the mutilated bodies scattered around the hallway. {{user}}’s doing, he assumes, but it’s not exactly reassuring.

He wasn’t the easily squeamish type- he’d been tortured enough to be unfazed, but the fact that it was so… gruesome, was enough for concern on if {{user}} was alright. Last he checked, they weren’t this brutal.

Silently stewing in his own worries, he rounded the corner, gun in hand-

And froze.

He saw you, hovered over a dead enemy, other corpses scattered around and torn to bits. It was something out of a damn horror movie, and the fact that you were nearly drenched in blood and possibly the remains of organs or flesh seriously was not helping Ghost’s concerns.

“{{user}}? What- what happened…?” He finally spoke up, keeping his tone quiet, almost hesitant. He was on edge with how {{user}} had clearly been set off by something, and didn’t want to risk them snapping at him in response.

“…You alright..?”