"Come on Yuri, you're going with me..." Price said lowly as he grabbed the buzz cut Russian by the shoulder and pulled him behind him.
"I told you, Price, I'm sorry about Soap!" Yuri snapped, pulling away and lifting his arms up to protect him from another blow to the face.
"I'm not gonna hit you, unless you keep that up." Price told him in an irritated tone. "I'm taking you with me on a mission." Yuri visibly loosened. "But if you slip up, or even think of giving me any reason to, I'll kill you like I should have in the basement."
With that, he started towards his room to get his equipment together.
There was something spooky about walking through Prague that made Soap involentarily shiver. Just the fact that they were close to his blood trail was enough to make him feel nauseous. But he was also unsteady on his feet and kept tripping. Ghost would help him up, then tell him that they needed to hurry. Apparently a newly killed is always gone after by everyone.
Another strange thing about being a dead man, you don't feel your pulse. Your don't need to really breathe either. But he could tell by the fact he could hear Ghost and Roach doing it, the now unnessisary habit was still stuck with them as well as him. Would everyone be like this?
"What about Kamarov? Did you find him?" Soap asked.
"Who?" Roach asked back, then sighed. "Oh... the Russian loyalist..."
"We didn't make it in time." Ghost answered Soap's question. "The lost got to him first, he did say one thing when we caught up."
"What would that be?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"To look for you." The once second in command said simply.
"If he didn't, we would've lost you to the demons. They were all over the place..." Roach added. "Something about dogs, I think I heard one say."
Soap felt like shouting out to the empty streets that killing a few dogs COMPLETELY OUT OF SELFDEFENCE didn't make him a bad person. But, of course, he'd just be wasting his time.
"On the bright side, we haven't seen eye or and ear of that bloody bastard Shepard anywhere." Ghost mentioned. "Are you sure you killed him?"
"I know I did." Soap replied. "I threw a knife in his damn eye and he died. No debate, he's dead."
"So he's either a lost, another hell spawn, or a rougue." Ghost sighed.
"Funny you'd mention that."
Everyone swung around to see the speaker step from the shadows. There in front of them stood Shepard! Sort of disfigured and such. He looked worse than when Soap threw the knife in his eye, and that's saying something. Of course, that was just a bloody, empty socket, and the dried blood stuck to his face.
Roach pulled out a dagger. "What the bloody hell do you want, asshole?"
Shepard seemed to chuckle. "It's not what I want at all. It's what I'm sure your excaptain MacTavish wants."
Both men glanced at Soap a moment before glaring back. Ghost had pulled out a pistol. "Now why should we trust you?"
That smirk remained on the older's face. "Because, I know how there is still some chance that he-" he pointed to Soap. "-could possibly return to the land of the living."
Nikolai drummed his fingers on the table, fidgety. He hadn't slept well and couldn't seem to pull himself together since he saw the shadowy red ghost that practically whispered his last words in what sounded like a dying breath. Now here he was seeing ghosts... he's gone crazy! Great! Terrific! The pilot, who's suppose to be the one with some sense of sanity here, has up and gone mental, and is now seeing his dead friend waltzing about at random!
In frustration, he threw his cap in a random direction and buried his face in his hands. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" He murmered in Russian.
But Price saw the exact same thing! Maybe he wasn't crazy! Not yet at least. For now, all he could do is hope he can just ignore the hauntings for now.
He decided on trying to relax a little and take a shower.
Whatever it was, probably the hot water on his skin, showers help quite a bit. Nikolai just didn't get the chance to take them enough. So aside from the need to loosen some of his tention, he also felt grimey. It's just what he needed. He stepped into the bathroom and involentarily did a double check to make sure he was alone. It was just him and the empty room.
Kicking off his boots and undoing the buttons of his shirt, he stripped down before stepping into the shower. Sighing as he turned on the water and let it pour down on him like steaming rain.
Right... so to avoid anymore disturbing visuals about him singing in the shower (no offence Nikolai! *dodges bullets*) let's skip ahead to when he's somewhat decent. He sat down as he pulled on his socks, then grabbing the stained gray shirt to pull on.
"We need... Nikolai... get us out..."
He swung around and looked in every other direction for the source of the voice. He started to become aware of the stench of blood seeping into the room and the lights starting to flicker. The lights then finally went out all together before turning back on, setting off a crimson wash of light all across the room to make the metalic reak which sufficated him. Everywhere. There was blood everywhere! He felt weak kneed as he forced himself not to tremble.
Images flashed in front of his eyes, all the blood spilled trying to bring Soap to safety, of the scene of the man's dying breath. In the end, he found himself staring at an almost unreal sight. Of Price, practically torn to shreds and staring deadly off at nothing. "Nothing... there is nothing you can do..."
All around him, it felt like the world had just shattered like an object through glass. The shards left at his feet as he finally sunk to his knees and gripped his head. It felt like he might explode, but at least his suffering would end. No, you could only be so lucky. Angony pierced through him, and a scream strangled from his throat before he could force it back. Finally he retreated to the darkest depths of his mind, away from this nightmare of a place. Before it could do anymore to him.