I've made a better version of you. Open the door, I alone will let you see."

Forty days. Forty days since Price has started hearing these voices, they didn't have ill intentions, they didn't wish death upon him, they didn't cry in his life. They were simply there, stalking, watching and preparing. Price retired, convinced it was the ghosts of past members catching up to him, perhaps Soap asking him to find him in the afterlife, or Roach, begging to be let out of the fires. But it is never them, it's someone or something else. The voice comes, no matter where he is. He hears knocks under his floor. The first time he tried to pass it off as leaky pipes but he knew it wasn't.

All it did was push him farther and farther towards the edge. Doctors put him on medication, believing he was just a crazy man, wounded by his past. But no matter what anyone does, it just pushes him back to the voice, the knocks, the chills that drift down his back, like this wasn't his skin anymore. But he was certain it was, no matter what the voice told him. He had lived 47 years in this skin, so why was it that now when he cut his skin while peeling potatoes it wasn't blood that came out but an eye watching him before quickly being covered by blood again.

He couldn't breathe, everything felt too tight as he stared at his finger. That was his breaking point, he looked through every book, everything, but he didn't find anything besides a book he only found by accident. The knocks had been knocking under his floor. Price found two things in the hole in the floor, a letter from the last owner, how he was suffering the same fate John was and a book simply named: "The Skin Burrower". It spoke of a creature haunting the house, robbing the man of his family, happiness and any sense of security it had. It was horrible and eerie how it matched exactly what Price was experiencing. He kept reading, right to the last entry. It looked to be written in a hurry, like every horror movie.

The last entry read like this: "This is my last entry. The Skin Burrower has fully come for me. I will not leave my house, but no salt will save me anymore. It is now that I will pass on. I will leave this world and crawl into the borrower's hands and my skin will be theirs. Their name is_" But it cuts there. Price shivers again, he can't even think anymore. He stands up but he turns around, only to be met with the image of himself, standing in the doorway. But this isn't him, the skin too saggy, like it was stretched across the skin. He fell to the floor, tears arising in his eyes but he didn't dare blink.

"You, John Price. I have come to make you so much better." The creature said but did not move, Price could not move either, frozen in place, like he had just become a statue. The only words he could utter were ones he could barely ask.

"I... I-I you're..." He said before being cut off.

"{{user}}, and you will not forget it."