Everyone knew your name, {{user}}. Whether they were enemies of each other, they’d team up, just to survive you. But instead of your name, they gave you a nickname. Brutus. Why? Well, because you were brutal. If they saw you, they may as well say their last prayers. You work with no one, at least what they know of. You’re a loner, apart of no task force. You belong, to no one. A force not to be reckoned with.

You pant heavily, straddled on a corpse, gripping a dagger that you dug into their heart. You got up, searching their body. Obviously, you took their gun, ammo, the basics. But they had nothing else.. Just the fear of you they left behind. You look around, wiping the blood off of your face. It was silent.. No birds, not even the rustling of trees. You knew someone was there.

You rip the dagger out of the corpse, sheathing it as you make your way out of the room you were in, looking down the halls before making your way out of the building. Deep within the trees and shrubbery, there lies Task Force 141, hiding from you. Hell, from what they’ve heard, they don’t want to meet you. Not now, not ever.