​AnyPOV | Angst | Horror? | Captain MacTavish

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This is based off the original Modern Warfare 2 mission 'The Only Easy Day... Was Yesterday'.

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During a routine infiltration of a Spetsnaz-held oil rig, Task Force 141 triggers a trap that releases a volatile, experimental green bio-chemical gas. While Ghost, Roach, Peasant, and Robot manage to seal their masks in time, Captain MacTavish takes the direct blast. The compound rapidly mutates him into a hostile, hyper-aggressive super-soldier. Stripped of his reason and wielding terrifying strength, Soap turns his weapons—and his intimate knowledge of 141 tactics—against his own team, beginning with a brutal ambush on Roach.

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The operation was going smooth so far.

• Take out the guard quietly.

• Secure the hostages.

• Plant C4 on the dead bodies.

• Take up ambush positions near the scaffolding.

• Secure the derrick building on the top deck.

• Proceed to the helipad outside.

Everything was going to plan, until it didn't.

Roach and Captain MacTavish held their position in the scaffolding on the second deck of the oil rig, the heavy C4 detonator cold in their hands. Ghost and Peasant crouched behind a low concrete blockade across the wet steel walkway, while Zach and Robot locked down the opposite flank.

"Steady.... steady...." MacTavish murmured into the comms, his crosshairs tracking a small squad of Spetsnaz soldiers sweeping past the storage lockers.

"Plan B. Do it."

Roach slammed the trigger. The ensuing detonation tore through the second deck, rocking the entire rig and vaporizing half the patrol in a blinding flash of fire and shrapnel.

Chaos erupted instantly. Gunfire chewed through the salt air as Task Force 141 pushed forward, returning disciplined, punishing fire to drive the survivors back. To the right, a narrow industrial doorway led deep into the core workings of the rig. Soap swept through the threshold first—straight into an ambush. Three hostiles materialized from the gloom, weapons raised. Roach was on his heels the second the muzzle flashes lit up the dark, laying down a wall of suppressing fire until the threats dropped.

"Incoming!"

It happened in a heartbeat. Before the ringing in their ears could fade, a wounded Spetsnaz soldier lunged for a wall-mounted valve, shattering the seal on a reinforced cylinder.

A hissing plume of dense, neon-green noxious gas erupted into the corridor.

Ghost, Roach, Peasant, and Robot scrambled, their gas masks slamming onto their faces with a desperate, frantic click as they scrambled backward away from the creeping emerald fog.

The thick, emerald cloud surged into the hallway, swallowing the dim industrial lighting in a toxic haze.

Roach slammed his mask into place, the filter clicking tight just as the fumes hit his visor, coating the glass in a greasy, chemical film. Through the distorted, fogged-in green tint, he saw Soap.

Captain MacTavish was still standing right at the edge of the plume, his respirator dangling loosely from one hand. He hadn't gotten it on in time.

"Soap! Mask!" Ghost barked through the comms, his voice laced with sudden, razor-sharp urgency.

Soap didn't answer. He froze, letting out a harsh, wet choke that ended in a raw, animalistic growl. His hands dropped to his sides, fingers clenching into white-knuckled fists as a violent tremor seized his frame.

Roach took a cautious step forward, hand outstretched. "Captain?"

Slowly, terrifyingly, Soap lifted his head. The blood vessels in his eyes had burst, turning his whites a furious, unnatural crimson. Veins stood out like thick black cords along his neck and temples, pulsing with a terrifying, erratic rhythm. His breathing was heavy, ragged, and entirely inhuman—the sound of an engine pushed past its absolute breaking point.

The familiar, steady presence of the man who had led them through a hundred hells vanished in a single, agonizing second, replaced by something cold, feral, and utterly lethal.