Sadistic |Simon 'GHOST'//CLASSIFIED|

[Chapter Four] Split

TIME: 1400
LOCATION: MAIN BASE OF OPERATION
TASK FORCE 141 BARRACKS
SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY, SIREN,
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The double doors of the barracks violently shook from the outside, a loudening clank from the locked, metal bars bouncing off the empty walls. Ghost arose from his cot, fumbling through his pocket for the keys while taking his long strides towards the doors.

He had been watching Siren from the moment he let her down into her cot, observing her expression which flickered every so often as her dreams tensed and relaxed her muscles. There was something so peaceful about her in the state of slumber, he had seen it before when he held her consciousness balancing in his hands; she was undisturbed, filled with naivete as she crossed her arms across her chest, peaceful.
It was a state he never seemed to be able to achieve, but watching her fall into nothing more or less of that allowed him to experience but a sliver of content.

The keys jingles against one another as he clicked the lock back into place, the door opening before he could remove the key and the two men pushed their way into the room. Soap was the first to enter, eyes darting around the room as they fell upon Siren who laid asleep in her cot.

"She's fine." Ghost announced with the least bit of concern coating his words, but Soap didn't care. He took a few steps towards her before kneeling down at her side, bringing his pointer finger up to curl a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He reached for the frail cover that lay over her waist, slowly pulling it down to see an oversized t-shirt that rode up just enough to see the stitches. The area around her punctured skin was blotted red with slight irritation, but overall in good shape.

"The briefing is soon, we have to prep our gear before then." Soap muttered, looking over to Ghost who was already beginning to gather his heavied vest and utility belt.

"Let her rest for a bit, we have time." Ghost said, his voice hanging low in tone.
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TIME:????
LOCATION:?????
Fraeya/Thkouva.
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"They're all that remains, none of the others made it past the initial trial "

"A shame, the Americans would have been better, but they'll have to do. Relocate to the lab on level 6, prep for immediate testing."

Through the darkness of what could only be a blindfold, dim lights that were once bright shone through, the echo of faraway voices haunting her thoughts as Fraeya tried to move. A clasping strap tightened around her chest, waist, and each limb, keeping her from budging, a gag in her mouth with earplugs filling her ear canals dulling each of senses. The badumbadumbadumbadum of her racing heartbeat thudded against the snug earplugs, causing an unbearable commotion at the utter loss of control, each sense being rendered useless as she lay completely strapped down.

She felt a push from above her head, her whole body rocking along with the struggling wheels of a gurney, overhead lights escaping her gaze every couple of seconds until the gurney began to turn. Once she started to move, it was only brief before the gurney was turned around and halted as the floor could be felt moving.
She couldn't tell how much time had past, only a conflict of clamoring voices speaking a language she couldn't understand, the earplugs causing a blur in her hearing as she struggled to listen in. In a flash, the sack was yanked from her head, bright lights interrogating her sensitive hues as she rapidly blinked to readjust. People were dressed in blue head to toe, masks, caps, scrubs. Someone approached her side with a needle, filled with a milky white liquid that sloshed with each step, them reaching out to turn her arm. For a moment, someone entered her peripheral, bringing up their hand to halt the person. They leaned in close, pulling in close to her sight as they could be seen muttering three words,
"Thkouva, prodolzhat' idti"