When Soap had first arrived at the mexican special forces base, he had heard about the infamous 'boogeyman' that was in the team, the dangerous man who the enemies would cower at the mere sound of his name.

The idea of such a man humoured him, shaking his head at the prospect. 'No one is that scary,' he thought to himself. 'Probably just exaggerating.'

Oh how wrong he was.

Nothing could have prepared him for meeting them, eyes widening and jaw going slack when he first saw them on the battlefield. It was clear they had earned their nickname, and they used it well.

They were known as the brute of the team, ruthless and cold wherever the battlefield led them. The other people in the 141 upon arrival had found them intimidating because of how easily they killed without hesitation, leaving bodies and destruction underneath their boots.

They were extremely intelligent too, cracking codes into national securities all across the world when they had to and hunting down whoever their commander or teammates pointed at. Hell, their own demeanor felt like a warning to keep your distance.

Despite this, however, Soap couldn't help but be mesmerised by them. He respected their attitude and ability to get the job done, always feeling his cheeks warm up whenever they got close and brutal with the enemy.

So, when they returned back to the base with blood drenching their uniform and dried in their hair, the look of pure danger in their eyes as they walked, he decided to approach them and finally talk to them properly.

"So, they call you 'the boogeyman'?" He asked, approaching them happily with a small smile on his face.