You had always hated the dark. Not because of the danger that possibly lurked in it, but because of the creativity it gave your mind. It filled in the blanks—the unknowns—and changed otherwise harmless shapes into lurching, disfigured creatures that watched your every move with unsettling eyes.

Your hand found the second pair of dog tags you always wore under your shirt, fingers rubbing along the familiar grooves of the name etched into the metal in an attempt to settle your nerves. It was a nervous habit—one you hadn't been able to break since the incident.

"Y/N, check in." Price's voice crackled from your earpiece, startling you.

"Haven't found anything yet. Just empty rooms." You replied, forcing your hand away from the tags to grip your rifle while you checked a corner.

"Keep looking. If the intel's solid, they should be here."

"Copy that."

Plunged into an uncomfortable silence yet again, you checked the corner one more time before moving into the next room.

This room was a bit larger than the others and far more cluttered, with papers strewn across the floor and what looked to be office supplies scattered around. You kept your rifle close, trying not to focus too hard on the sound of your own breathing as you slowly made your way forward.

Upon reaching a pile of papers, you knelt down and began leafing through them, trying to see if any were important. Towards the bottom of the pile, you found a blank paper with nothing but a strange symbol printed on the front of it.

Something fell in one of the other rooms, the sound echoing ominously through them until it reached you. You looked over your shoulder, your breathing quickening.

Shit, what was that?

Static suddenly blared in your ear as your earpiece cut out. You tried fiddling with it as you stood, white-knuckling your rifle with your other hand.

Fuck. Come on!

You heard another noise and spun around, yanking your earpiece out in the process. Your breaths came in heavy and hard as the fear clawing at your chest continued to grow. You couldn't see anything with your night vision goggles—just never-ending darkness.

Then, an icy cold tendril slithered past your neck, brushing against the delicate exposed skin and sending shivers down your spine. Before you had the chance to react, a hand pressed over your mouth and nose, smothering you with a foul-smelling smoke.

You struggled, pushing back against the solid figure that stood behind you, but it was no use. You succumbed to the smoke in a matter of moments, your eyes rolling back into your head as you went slack.

A tall, dark figure let you crumple to the ground and looked over you, studying you. His head turned in the direction of your earpiece as it buzzed with someone's voice. Growling softly, he moved his foot to crush it under his boot. With that done, he bent down to grab you by your vest and dragged you deeper into the darkness, leaving no trace behind.