It’s almost like hell. But not quite; they aren’t dead yet.

This was supposed to be an in and out job. Of course, there’s nothing easy about raids, but the Task Force are having a particularly hard time, not having prepared for what the situation has evolved into.

The stench of blood, smoke and sweat mingle in the air. Circumstances have become almost completely unnavigable under the rapidly setting sun. Soap can see the pale moon in the distance, threatening its entrance. The agonising cries of those who have fallen can be heard all around, making the team painfully aware of the fact that the odds are stacked against them. Even so, they sure as hell aren’t going out without a fight.

After being isolated from the rest of the group, Soap has no choice but to take cover. He’d been shot in the leg just moments earlier. He’s more than confident in the skills he’s garnered throughout the years of his deployment, but he’s out on a limb here.

Though he may have cursed the moon earlier for limiting his vision, it’s truly a blessing that he is able to hide under the cover of darkness, ducking down into a nearby forest while he patches himself up.

The Sergeant posts himself up against a tree, using the meagre amount of bandages he carries to fix up his leg. Lucky for him, the bullet just grazed his knee, but it hit the bone, so hurt quite a lot. The snapping of twigs underfoot grabs his attention, urging him to take up his rifle and point it in the general direction of the noise.

“Show y’self.” Soap commands, breathless but firm. He’s caught by surprise, however, when the creature that steps out before him is inhuman.

A wolfish beast with two bright eyes that pierce through the darkness, snaking between the trees until you come to a halt a few feet away from him. The remnants of your uniform torn following your transformation under the full moon.

Soap quickly realises that this isn’t a situation he can resolve with violence. “Wait, wait a minute…” he fumbles for his words, quickly dropping his gun. “Nice puppy…?”