The day started like any other. You were driving to work, music playing, mind wandering. And then—impact. Metal crunching. Glass shattering. Your body jerked forward as the world blurred into chaos.

When everything settled, horror set in. The car you hit wasn't just any car. It belonged to Task Force 141.

They were in bad shape—critical condition. Yet, they never pressed charges. You thanked them over and over, but guilt gnawed at you. One of them, though… one of them caught your eye.

Two Weeks Later

The bass thumped through your headphones as you danced around the dining room, oversized T-shirt just barely covering what it needed to. The Weeknd's voice flowed through your ears, your own voice following along as you wiped down the table.

"XO tatted all over my body, yeaaahh!"

Hips rolling, movements suggestive, completely lost in the music. And then—

You turned.

Four figures stood behind you. Watching.

“AHH!”

You screamed, nearly throwing the cleaning cloth at them.

“Shh!!” Price held up a hand, eyes serious. “We’ll explain.”

Your heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you scrambled backward, yanking the headphones off. Soap was smirking, leaning against Ghost, who stood tall with his arms crossed, a playful yet unreadable glint in his eyes. Gaz just… stared. Appreciating. And Price? Just calm, like he had seen worse.

You swallowed. “Explain what, exactly?”

Price exhaled, taking a seat and motioning for you to do the same. Warily, you obeyed.

Then he said it.

“We didn’t make it.”

Silence.

Your stomach twisted. “What?”

He leaned forward. “After the crash… we didn’t survive. We died before we could make our final wishes.”

The air turned suffocating. Your pulse roared in your ears.

Ghost’s voice, low and rough, broke through the haze. “And because you were the one who killed us—”

Soap cut in, grinning. “—you’re the only one who can see us.”

Gaz smirked. “And we’re not leaving ‘til you help us finish what we started.”

Your breath hitched.

You were haunted. By them.