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“What no! I was on asteroids–Rudy was there with me too!”
“I was with Gaz the whole time this round, there’s no way he could’ve killed Alex,” Rudy reasoned and yet Farah scowled, as if wanting to remain unconvinced.
“Well perhaps you are both the Imposter,” Farah leaned away from the table with her arms crossed over her aqua suit, “You cover for each other and pick us off one by one, one of the most basic strategies.”
“No, there’s only one Imposter this round,” Laswell reminds the training crew.
Soap cocks an eyebrow at the yellow crewmate, “How’re you so sure?” Laswell smiles.
“I have my ways Soap.”
The red crewmate, Soap, leans towards his companion for the round, “Sounds like somethin’ the Imposter would say, aye Ghostie?” At the sound of his name, the black crewmate bent down to whisper back at Soap while his eyes remained fixed on the remaining six out of nine crewmates.
“Would be a worry if she wasn’t always right,” he murmured. Ghost had a point, it was impossible to know how Laswell knew for sure, but every round her guesses towards the number of imposters were always correct.
“True. Is good to know there’s only one of them fucker’s runnin’ around this time, even though it’s pickin’ us off crazy quick,” Ghost grimaced at Soap’s words. It was also true that this Imposter was exceptionally efficient with its kills, there were only a few in their group that fit with this style of killing and two of them were dead.
That only left one. Ghost looked at soap from the corner of his eye and only hummed in response.
“Look,” Rudy ever the voice of reason, “We could risk guessing now, but it would put us at a disadvantage if we are wrong.”
“Guess we’re skipping–again,” Farah sighed in frustration.
“Farah, I want to get the bastard as bad as you do,” Gaz looked to his crewmate, “it sucks, but if we have any chance of winning we need to be careful, alright?”
Farah shook her head and pushed past Gaz and Rudy to go outside. The rest of the crewmates said their stilted goodbyes and good lucks before also leaving.
Ghost continued onward within the facility building to do his tasks in the lab when hurried footsteps appeared behind him. Given how this game had been going, Ghost did not need to turn around to know he’d see Soap’s red suit round the corner.
“Oi there you are,” said crewmate huffed, “Fucking dissappeared on me, thought you might’ve been got.”
“Soap we all left at the same time, says a lot about you if you lost me so quickly,” Ghost smirked, turning enough so that Soap may see the smile in his eyes.
“Yeah yeah whatever, I’m going up to do oxygens,” waving Ghost off, Soap left the labs.
With his attention returned back to his task, Ghost continued to sort through the base’s samples. It wasn’t a very particular grueling or hard task, it was almost laughable how simple it was, but it was satisfying to say the least. The black crewmate had the final sample in his hands when the room turned red and the alarms blared. He rushed to the meeting room to see Soap in a panic and Gaz trying to catch him.
Farah and Rudy were not far behind, but Ghost ignored them in order to restrain Gaz–it took a second to remove the orange crewmate from the red, but Ghost managed.
“He’s the imposter, I saw him kill Laswell and he chased me all the way here!” Soap gasped through the accusation.
“No! Do not listen to him, he’s lying through his teeth!”
Rudy and Farah helped Soap off the floor, checking him over before “I was right!” Farah exclaimed, “You were just using Rudy as a cover–”
“I was not–Farah I’m telling you the truth, I did not kill laswell!” Gaz looked to Rudy, “Come on mate, you know I’m innocent we’ve been watching for each other since Ale was killed.”
“Yes… But you did disappear every so often,” Rudy seemed to put together, “It was only a moment and I don’t think Imposters were that quick, but this is the first time we’ve separated and now I’m starting to think you’ve been using me hermano.”
Gaz stilled in Ghost’s arms, “Rudy listen to me. I haven’t used you as a cover because I’m not even the Imposter.”
“No, no,” Soap moved towards Gaz on shaky legs, “I saw you kill Laswell. I saw you walk away and return as if you just stumbled upon her.”
“Where was she killed Soap?” Farah questioned.
“Outside, just at the top of the facility besides the ship.” Soap glared. Gaz started stuttering.
“What no! That’s not what–”
“I saw Gaz chasing after Soap,” Ghost provided, “If Laswell was killed there it makes sense that Soap made a dash for the emergency button.”
“Ghost come on, don't fall for this–don’t let him win!” Gaz was left mouth agape, fighting to get in a word to defend himself.
“I’m sorry Gaz,” Rudy approached, “But unless I’m wrong and we’re all not in agreement, we’ll be tossing you over now.” Rudy dropped his hand heavily to Gaz’s shoulder, the orange crewmate tried to break free but not only had Ghost tightened his hold, Rudy now has his hands on Gaz too.
Gaz kicked up as much of a fight as he could, spitting insults and profanities till Ghost and Rudy tossed him off the edge of the facility.
The lava below bubbled and cracked as Gaz’s remains melted away.
“I always hate this part,” Rudy sighed.
“Well, let's just hope this puts an end to things for now,” Ghost supplies.
They made their way back to the meeting room to see the results of their choice, only to see that neither Soap or Farah were there anymore.
“Ghost…”
“Fuck the games not over.”
Rudy hurried towards the console, “Well it has been made easier, if you were the Imposter you would have killed me after we threw Gaz.”
“Likewise I’d imagine,” Ghost whispered as he made his way to shut the doors.
“I found Soap!” Rudy pointed to the screen but as he beckoned Ghost over the lights were cut, drowning the room in near total darkness.
“Mierda–she cut the power.” The room's doors opened back up and Ghost spun around to see nothing but darkness.
“Farah?”
“Sí, when I saw Soap on the cams he was limping to electrical. My guess is he’s trying to guarantee our victory.”
Ghost’s jaw clicked as he bit down on nothing. He knew he should stay with Rudy, knew it was the winning strategy however–
“Did you ever have eyes on Farah?”
“No, but I doubt it’s… Ghost, no!” Rudy stomped over to his crewmate, “I hate to say this but this is not the time for whatever it is you two have. Soap has given us this win, hermano just let us take it.”
Ghost just stood stock still, staring at where he knew the door to be.
“Not gonna just leave him…”
Rudy held strong for a monet before he deflated, Ghost could hear the soft squeak of his suit’s gloves brush against the protective glass of his helmet.
“Can you make it?”
“Affirm.”
“...Then go,” Rudy gave in, moving on to find a hiding spot by the console. Ghost took a steadying breath through his rebreather and quietly made his way to electrical.
The visibility outside was shit, but at least it was enough that Ghost would be able to make out any suspiciously shifting shadows. Plus, now that he knew the Imposter to be Farah, he could move appropriately to her hunting style.
Ghost had thought it strange that Farah had just let Soap slip away, but then again it was obvious she couldn’t win this in the discussions. This was a gamble with a chance at victory; Ghost knew he’d play similarly, but he did not enjoy being the deciding factor of this game all the same.
He just had to hope she hadn’t killed Soap and bypassed him to get to Rudy–he was honestly expecting to see the victory announcement.
Ghost managed through the snow and stepped into the darkened facility. He hugged the walls, moving quietly but quickly.
“Soap?” He gritted out. A small groan from near the back panels responded to him. Ghost slid up to Soap’s side, fumbling to find the source of the red crewmate's injury.
“...Ghost?”
“Hey Johnny I’m here,” Ghost continued to pat around, “You’ll make it out of this game alive don’t worry.”
Soap chuckled and Ghost felt its warmth, “That right Simon.”
“Yes, now come on–can you stand?”
Soap hauled himself up with Ghost’s help. He staggered forward a bit before tripping, but Ghost had caught him in an embrace–Ghost would always be there to catch him.
“Sorry…” Soap apologised.
“No need Johnn-”
“No, I mean sorry for this.”
A striking pain fired through Ghost’s nervous system, his grip on Soap increasing as his insides burned and he screamed silently.
“S-Soap!?” Ghost gasped.
“Well you were right about me making it out of here alive, sir” Soap leaned back, sharp teeth all on display through a wicked smile. “If it helps, I did give you the chance to win.”
Ghost spat, “You fucking-”
-
Ghost shot up, clawing at nothing by air as the sound of angry screams came into his head.
“I told you, I fucking told all of you but nooo,” Gaz waved his hands dramatically, “God forbid anyone listens to Gaz.”
Farah sighed in defeat, “I’m sorry.”
“Hey we did the best we could,” Alex intervened, “Soap’s a scary Imposter, takes any opportunity he gets.”
“Unfortunately he is good at what his does,” Price agreed, Laswell shaking her head beside him.
It was then that it finally registered to Ghost that he’d lost. The crewmates had lost this round and it was entirely his fault. He took a few shaky breaths to combat the leftover adrenaline in his body.
“Sorry,” Ghost huffed out, “Should’ve stayed with Rudy.”
Gaz whipped around at the sound of his voice, “Yeah mate you think? Maybe also listen to me the next time I tell you it’s Soap!”
“But what if you are lying that time, aye,” Alejandro joked.
“Oh fuck off-”
Ghost left his team to bicker as he raised a hand to his throat. Now that he could recall, Soap had cleanly sliced his head off when Ghost tried to insult him. That bastard, he played Ghost like a fiddle.
The ship’s doors opened a second later to a just as defeated looking Rudy, and one overly happy and confident looking Soap MacTavish. Gaz had jumped the victor the moment he could, Price and Farah not too far behind with their own displeasures about losing to whatever bullshit method Soap had pulled on them too.
During his bombardment, Soap noticed Ghost still sat on the floor, he made a sympathetic expression but Ghost continued to glare.
Oh Soap thought he was so fucking cute, huh?
–
The next game had begun and Soap was running off the endorphins of his previous victory. He had a pretty flawless run as the Imposter and now he could take it a bit easier as a crewmate.
Maybe he’d stick with Ghost again, actually have his friend’s back for real this time. Soap did feel a little bad about how he’d done Ghost in the previous game, but it was just too perfect– and besides, if he hadn’t, Farah or Rudy would’ve surely sniffed him out in the discussions.
Ah well, what’s done is done. All Soap can hope now that whoever’s running Imposter this game grants him some small mercies.
Soap was wandering through the cafeteria till a heavy hand grasped his shoulder. Soap minutely jumped, turning to smack the hand off and-
Oh it was Ghost!
Oh, it was Ghost…
“Ghost,” Soap’s tone went for confident but he was sure the other crewmate would hear the nervous tinge, “How’s it going sir?”
“Come with me,” Ghost all but growled, “We got medical on this map and you’re going to watch me do medscan to prove my innocence this game. That work for you.”
Soap gulped, “Aye, bloody brilliant sir.”
They sauntered through the map and on the way to medical, they ran into Price, Alejandro, and Rudy who told Ghost and Soap that they’d just seen Laswell, Farah, Gaz, and Alex just a moment ago.
So, it seemed thus far everyone was alive then? Soap couldn’t help but take that to be a bad sign.
Still, Soap continued to follow Ghost down the halls and into the threshold of medical. The doors had closed behind them but when Ghost paid no mind to them, Soap allowed himself to relax.
He meandered over to Ghost as he stood on the scan waiting for it to turn on.
And they waited…
And waited…
…
Oh fuck
When the scan refused to sense the body standing before it, Soap made a dash for the door only for a tentacle to yank him back. The ships oxygen warning began to flash as the little percentage on his suit’s hud began to go down.
Not that the oxygen levels were important right now, Soap would be struggling to breath regardless–there was no actual way he’d be this unlucky, right?
The tentacle threw Soap harshly onto the medical console. Ghost’s body was pressed against his in an instant with more tentacles curling around Soap to restrict his movements.
Soap’s eyes flicked to the predatory appendages and he flailed in desperate attempts to kick them off. Of course this was futile as Ghost just used more to slam Soap into the console again, successfully stealing the air from his lungs.
With Soap winded, Ghost leant over his crewmate’s prone body. Dull brown eyes crinkled in amusement as Soap ceased his squirming. The tentacles’ tightened their grip over Soap’s body as one final limb slid around his neck.
“Seems like you’ve found yourself stuck in rather hard place now Johnny,” Ghost snickered, “didn’t expect it to be me this round did you.”
“Ghost,” Soap gasped—pleaded, “Please, I-I’m sorry about last game really!”
The skull mask contorted as it opened to reveal rows upon rows of sharp teeth and monstrous tongue, “Course Johnny, it’s why you lead me on for the entire game before stabbing me in the back right?”
“S’just the way the game works Simon—come on,” Soap panted as the tentacle around his neck pulled taught, “no hard feelings–l-like you wouldn’t do anything to win?” Soap reasoned.
“True,” Ghost tilted his head, running his serrated tongue softly over soap’s reddening cheek in contemplation, “But even I wouldn’t have done you that dirty Johnny. I trusted you.”
“Not wise to go back on your own advice sir-“ Soap choked, every tentacle suddenly constricting to crush his body.
“Still you used me,” Ghost growled, voice barely human, “Lucky for you, I know how you can make it up to me.”
The pressure nearly had Soap’s bones breaking, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as the pressure suddenly dropped off and Soap fell to the floor.
Soap coughed and wheezed fighting to fill his lungs as a tentacle caressed his cheeks before it snatched his head up, forcing him to look at Ghost.
The crewmate was limp in the Imposter’s hold. Ghost knelt down to Soap’s level, the air around him potent with murderous intent.
Finally, Soap could manage the words “What do you have in mind,” with a wheeze.
“Good Johnny” Ghost reached over to pet Soap’s hair, “Don’t worry, it’s not anything you haven’t done already.”
–
“I am never playing with either of you ever again,” Gaz cried as another game had gone to the Imposters, “You’re both insufferable.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Laswell looked to a very uncharacteristically sheepish Soap with Ghost now standing tall and proud, “After the stunt he pulled we were just unlucky the Imposter rotation fell onto Ghost.”
“Still isn’t that cheating?” Gaz exclaimed.
“Just barely,” Alejandro answered, “While it is a hidden role, as long as it’s not negatively affecting the experience I think it’s fine.”
“Besides,” Rudy chimed in, “It was clearly an eye for an eye, I don’t think we have to worry about them pulling anything past this game now.”
Soap blew a breath, “Sorry mate, he really twisted my arm.”
“Yeah I’m sure Ghost did,” gaz rolled his eyes, “As long as you both promise to leave you shit in the last match I’m… amenable to playing with you some more.”
“Alex and I also have in us at least one more game,” Farah chimed in.
“Yeah one normal game,” Price sighed.
-
The new game started and so did the Imposter selection process. With now two spots for the role, when Ghost and Soap saw each other in that assigned space they just knew their friends were about to never play anything with them again.