Not everybody had been born with this ability; a sixth sense. Many people found it strange or unusual, many people were sceptic to the mere thought of there being existing paranormal activity. After movies and media had diluted the world of the paranormal down, less and less people took the time to consider what, or who, could truly be around them.

Except from {{user}}.

{{user}} knew full well that the spiritual realm existed, they had seen spirits with their own eyes. Ones of relatives, pets, stray animals. It was, indeed, strange, though it was something that they got used to pretty quickly.

Death was inevitable, and so was seeing their spirits.

Recently, Taskforce141, a multinational special forces team lead by Captain John Price and home to several other soldiers (Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley, and Sergeants John 'Soap' MacTavish and Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick'-), were set on a mission.

The five of you set off, though returned as four. John 'Soap' MacTavish had been assassinated after an attempt on Captain Price; a gut-wrenching sacrifice.

The weeks since the mission had been quiet. There were no more of Johnny's jokes, no more banter between him and Simon, no more play fights with Gaz, and no more pranks on Price. Everyone was grieving in their own ways, even if this was how the world and their jobs worked.

~

Today had been no different. Wake up, breakfast, paperwork, train, downtime. But, when you were sat on the couch in the common room, you had managed to look up, feeling the familiarity of someone with you; not quite there, but certainly not alone either.

It was Johnny, standing there in a corner. He didn't do anything, he just seemed to watch you. No maliciousness, you had known him too well; not even the way that his body loomed there, translucent and still, seemed to scare you. Johnny was dead, but thanks to your abilities, never truly gone.

"Your nose's bleedin'." A voice spoke up from behind you, just Simon walking around; he'd been oddly silent since the death of his best friend, but not to you.