If you've read my other two Fanfics then you probably know that I keep a pretty irregular update schedule and I'm not hesitant to say that this is one of the reasons. I just get writers block when it comes to the other two so I vent it by scrapping together a couple of ideas with stupid plots or ideas but I managed to get this one to an acceptable standard by some miracle... so I decided to post it to see how much interest there is...

Leave a review if you want this to continue... don't expect it to be updated anytime soon because I don't want to balance three stories on my nose... and judging by the amount of flack I'm getting from my friends on my apparently slow update schedule I don't really expect to survive the fallout of posting this...

This contains slight aspects of Halo and a some real-life Military references such as armaments or other things, so if you don't know what they are a quick google image search will quickly right that problem...

If any of you have a better name for this story I'm all ears...

Naughtbeast

Chapter 1:

[Vale – Industrial District]

The steady pitter-patter of rain fell upon the tin roof that protected me from the elements outside, the cold chill of midnight finding its way through the clothing I wore. The weather was nothing of my concern now… the objective was close. My combat boots made the slightest of sounds as I made my way along the metal rafters of the warehouse that held my quarries, the sound being masked by the rain outside, making me unheard by my enemy. I slowed my pace as I came to rest on the rafter right above the centre of the bare warehouse floor below me.

Eight guards slowly patrolled the perimeter of the warehouse below, stealing glances through the open doors to see if anyone would be stupid enough to try and interrupt their business. Stocky rifles were held in their grips, bone white masks covering their face with red highlights painted on… the signature sign of the White Fang.

I tightened my grip on the weapon that was in my hands, a rifle that I had modded myself, so much that it barely resembled the original model of an Atlesian HK416. An ACOG scope was attached to the top of the weapon, canted iron sights diagonally to the right for closer range targets. A heavy silencer was attached to the barrel of the weapon and an extended stock came out the back. A large magazine that could hold 60, high calibre, 7.62x51mm bullets stuck out in a banana clip below the sights, right next to the selector switch between full-auto and semi-auto. A flashlight and laser sight combo was attached to the right of the barrel, just above where a vertical grip came from the tactical slide. It was painted matt-black that reflected no light at all as I casually aimed it at the closest, ready to end his life if he so much as glanced in my direction.

The mood that tainted the air was that of both fear and uncertainty, coming from the other occupants of the warehouse, four young women sitting tied up to a chair, their mouths covered with tape to stop the cries of terror that were escaping their mouths. I could see bruises and cuts covered their frail bodies, indicating the foul intent of the White Fang members and that they had already been beaten.

As the night went on, I watched and analysed the patterns of their patrols, formulating an ever-changing plan of action. I saw one of the guards become a bit lax and took their finger off the trigger, looking outside to see a flash of lighting, dropping as quickly as possible and landing right behind the guard, the sound of thunder masking my drop. He didn't seem to notice me so I pulled a chloroform rag from my pocket, snuffing it over his mouth and holding it until he was knocked out, catching his weapon before it could hit the floor and alert the others.

Dragging his body, I hid it behind a large crate and waited for another guard to pass, repeating the process until there were no others coming past my position, which left four. I looked out from behind the box and saw that the others were still completely oblivious my presence in the warehouse… until one of the hostages saw me.

Oh shit…

She saw me and her eyes widened, pleading for me to save her and she began thrashing about in her bindings. The other three women looked up to see what the commotion was and looked over to where he was, getting excited and struggling as well. The men that were walking around took notice and one of them walked over to the women, kicking the closest in the chest to stop the struggling.

"Oi! Stop with trying to escape, you human pigs… don't worry, you'll be out of these ropes once our boss gets here… but that doesn't mean you won't want to be back in them!" he mocked her, his voice barely audible above the storm outside.

The woman he had kicked looked back at him and mumbled something through the gag, the man stooping down and tearing it off, sticking the gun in her stomach in case she tried anything. I knew exactly what would happen and jumped out of my hiding place, sprinting towards the nearest guard and disarming him and punching his forehead to knock him out. The other one had barely moved a muscle before I drew a knife out of a sheath and threw it straight at his hand, the metal finding its way into his wrist and made him drop his weapon.

He didn't have enough time to even grunt as I threw the rifle of the guard I had just knocked out and hit him in the temple, breaking his nose and knocking him out. I didn't have enough time to turn around and take out the third as I felt a knife blade stab into me, the blade slowing down thanks to my armour being Earth Dust infused, although it still made it about half an inch into my ribcage. I grabbed the blade and pulled it out, stabbing into his arm and simultaneously punching him, knocking him out. By this time the woman had finally composed herself.

"OI! asshole… look behind you" the woman teased, smiling as she looked right behind her captor.

"What's that supposed to…" he started, silencing his thoughts when he felt a cold, hard hand grip his shoulder. I watched as he slowly turned his head around to see the what had held him, having barely enough time to see the other five of his comrades lying limp on the floor… and then I knocked him out by slamming my rifle's stock into his mask. The body slumped to the floor accompanied by muffled screams from the other captives when he nearly fell on them.

I took out my combat knife, a large 8-inch Kukri that was attacked to my right shoulder, then slashed the ropes that bound them, their bodies falling to the floor as they no longer were held by the bindings. They quickly tore the tape off their mouths but they all looked at me with the same look that just about everyone that met me did… fear. I knew that they had good reason to… I didn't exactly look too friendly.

(Insert description of Emile's armour from Halo Reach here… because I'm shit at descriptions… look it up if you have no idea what the hell it is… it's badass)

The skull on my mask was probably the first thing that they saw, a perfectly carved skull design with a slight smile to inspire fear into those I fight… although it wasn't really meant for making hostages feel safe. Added onto the massive knife, the copious amounts of grenades and shotgun shells that were locked onto my armour, the matt-black paintjob that didn't reflect even a fleck of light, the massive shotgun strapped to my back and my height… I wouldn't be surprised if they were pissing their pants by now.

I waited until they finally understood that I wasn't going to hurt them and carefully led them outside the warehouse where the flashing red and blue lights of the Vale Police Department were visible as two Constables came forward to take the shivering woman from me, their gazes turning to slight fear as they looked at my helmet. Several other officers broke off and went inside the warehouse, probably to collect the White Fang members, so I nodded thanks to them and walked over to a Bullhead waiting for me.

As I walked over, I saw that the three other members of my team were milling around, discussing things in hushed tones. Furthest on the left was Rulth, the team's sniper. Standing at around 5' 11" and around 34 years of age, he held a massive .50 calibre Barrett painted black, the general model except the muzzle-brake had been replaced with a silencer and the firing power was slightly toned down to make it quieter. The only armour that covered his wiry body was an armoured vest with kneepads and elbow pads, preferring mobility over protection. A bandana was wrapped around his mouth and nose, the jaw of a skull shown on the front in white.

Standing in the centre was my CQC expert Terra. She was, by far, the largest of the group standing 6' 5" and two Tonfa's were held in her arms, both having copper veins running through them so that they could channel electricity, a large shotgun holstered on her back. Her armour was slightly more protective than Rulth's, her battle style needing the extra speed, while her face was protected by a simple helmet and sunglasses which surprisingly didn't hinder her at all despite it being night.

Last of the team was Harald, the explosives expert. He was the most heavily armoured, covered in head-to-toe Kevlar armour that was re-enforced with a layer of concrete underneath the padding. He carried a large gunmetal-grey riot shield that could completely cover his body and was accompanied by a multi-use tazer.

We were Team Wrath, a team of mercenaries that worked for the PMC (Private Military Company) Devil's Den, and we were the best of the best… only we never really felt like it. The company was originally based in Vacuo, acting as a defence contractor for the higher-ups so that they felt safe from the White Fang who continuously tried to kill them. We were 'officially' the number 7 ranking team but it was only because we had one single mission that went FUBAR and we'd been instantly placed behind every other team who had perfect records, despite the fact that the other teams only ever took small and easy jobs.

"So what we do now?" asked Harald, his voice laden with a heavy Russian accent and I could smell the faint tinge of alcohol in his breath, pinning it to the small flask that was glinting from underneath his jacket.

"Are we actually going to do anything interesting other than beating up thugs?" Rulth put in, casually loading and unloading the clip of his rifle.

"What do you think Wraith?" Terra addressed me, testing the lighting conductors on her tonfa's.

Before I could reply, my scroll buzzed and I quickly took it out. The large screen indicated I had an incoming call from my boss. Quickly accepting it, the screen changed to show my boss standing over a large map of Vale in what looked to be our Vale HQ judging by the massive armoury behind him.

"Ahh, Wraith… I assume the mission was a success?"

I nodded to him and he smiled in return, tapping a few buttons before continuing.

"Good… I'm sure your whole team isn't exactly happy with the situation right now but we have to start of small in this new city before we can move onto the bigger jobs… for now you've earnt a day off, the money will be transferred within the hour as well as full compensation for tomorrow…"

The call ended as abruptly as it had started and I looked up to see the disappointment ridded on the rest of my team's faces. We didn't want easy, we wanted something that would actually test our skill and be worth the effort.

"Oh come on! It's been ages since we've gotten an actual mission and we're stuck with hostage rescue! I don't come out here to save people that can't save themselves!" complained Harald, lumbering off to his car that was waiting around the block, taking a swig of his flask as he did.

I knew that they all felt the same way but Harald was the only one who was actually idiotic enough to complain to my face… but I let him off… I felt the same way. It had been nearly a month since we'd gotten actual missions like high-value target extraction or protecting a Dust shipment from White Fang… it had gotten slow since we had been assigned as Devil's Den's representatives in Vale.

We were literally the best defence contractor short of the Atlesian military itself and the boss employed people no matter what they were… even if they happened to be criminals… as long as they got the job done. The company had a total of around 200 members, mostly because anyone who had any proper training either became a Huntsman or Huntress, or joined Vacuo's military. And the other reason is because 90% of us didn't even have our Aura unlocked, which was the main reason that everyone in Vale didn't want our support. They could just hire a Huntsman or Huntress or even get the ones in training to help for free… which sucked for business.

"I'll see you tomorrow boss" Terra sighed, getting into the Bullhead with Rulth getting into the co-pilots seat. I just waved them off, knowing that I couldn't really do anything to stop them because I knew I didn't have a good reason for them to stay.

I slung my rifle over my back on the single-point sling and began walking down the pavement towards my house. My childhood… well that's something I don't want to talk about… but the basics are that my father had stayed in Vale while I went and worked in Vacuo and this was the first time I'd been back since I left… so this mission was kind of acting as a way to get back to him.

As I walked along the quite streets the sudden sense of familiarity came into my being and my heart warmed… this was home. My shoulders drooped as a sudden weight fell upon me. When was the last that I had some decent sleep? Maybe a week ago? Let me think… today was Wednesday, so yesterday it was the flight over here… then the day before that was protecting that low-ranking SDC official… then the day before that was killing the child murderer… oh and also the White Fang attack on that base… so it had been four days since I'd had more than an hour of sleep.

My thoughts were interrupted as I finally made it to my home, Tukson's Book Trade and noticed that the door was still open, despite it being around one in the morning. Deciding to be nice, I knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds before opening it and walking inside, hearing the muffled sounds of the shopkeeper scrambling in the back.

"WHO THE HELL IS WAKING ME UP AT THIS UNGODLY HOUR!" came the deep growling voice of the owner as he came out of the side door, stopping as he saw me standing at the entrance. We stood there for a few seconds, silently looking at each other before Tukson dived underneath the counter of the bookshop where I knew he kept a handgun. I reacted at an ungodly speed and sprinted forward, punching the side of his hand as he brought the weapon up, catching the barrel, pulling back the slide and taking the clip out then throwing it away.

"What do you want…" growled the man as I stood above him, his eyes burning with rage. I didn't even bother answering as I took off my helmet and holding it at my hip. His face lit up with recognition and he brought me into a hug.

"Dammit Karter… you could have just said something!" he scolded, then quickly did a double take… "never mind, forget I ever said that… can't exactly say something if you're mute eh!"

I cringed as he brought up the bad memories, mainly the fact that I had a knife embedded in my throat for the better part of a week and my vocal cords were shredded beyond recognition. The incident happened after only a few months of working for Devil's Den and I did little-to-no work until I managed to learn sign language and battle-sign so I could once again work effectively on the field. I just weakly smiled in return and took out my scroll, bringing up the program in which I use to talk.

Hi dad… didn't exactly had the time to send you a message so I'm sorry for the sudden arrival… I've been re-assigned to Vale for the next few months so I'll be around for a while and was wondering if you've still got my spare room out the back?

"No problems, you don't need to bother with telling me at all! I'll always have the back room spare and open for you no matter what!" he cheerily exclaimed, grabbing my hands and leading me out through the side door… after I closed the front of course. The room he led me to was just as I remembered it… exactly as I remembered… literally nothing had moved. Dust was gathered on absolutely everything and I had to punch my sheets to get them free of the stuff, sneezing as it made its way into my nose.

"Yeah, sorry about that but I haven't really been in here for a while…" he explained, giving me a hint of a guilty look.

You should probably get back to sleep; I'll see you in the morning

"Will do… see you buddy" he finished, scuffling my hair and running his hands over my ears… my cat ears. Yeah, I'm a faunus and I fight the White Fang… I honestly couldn't care less for the most part but they give us a bad name and Devil's Den gave me a way to strike back at them and stop their racist attitude towards humans which is almost on-par with how humans treat faunus.

He walked out of the room, the sounds of him fixing the stuff out in the shop making their way into my room, then I heard him collapse back into bed, followed by the loud sounds of his snoring filling the shop. I rolled my eyes and closed my bedroom door, opening my wardrobe and taking out some sleepwear, thanking myself that I had stayed well in-shape while working so that they were only slightly tight. My armour was placed neatly in a corner and I stuck my guns underneath my bed, taking out the magazines and setting them to safety in case they accidentally fired off.

I walked over to the mirror and observed my face for the first time in months, noting just how old I looked. I was 17 but I looked like I was 20 or something, mainly because of my untidy black hair that went to just above my shoulders. My burning amber eyes stared back at me as I saw the signs of sleep deprivation practically ridden over my face, dark bags underneath my twitching eyes. I remembered my injury from before and looked down to see blood was already staining my clothes as a steady trickling of red came from a neat slash near my ribs.

Pulling open the cabinet behind the mirror, I took out a bandage and wrapped it around the wound, dabbing some anti-septic on it and wincing at the pain. With a heavy body, I tore my gaze from the mirror, walking over and collapsing on the bed… breaking the legs and slamming onto the floor. I couldn't even be bothered getting up, I just couldn't work up the energy to move.

"Are you alright?" Tukson asked, his voice echoing through the halls from his room. I rapped on the wall twice, our sign of yes, then he quickly went back to sleep, snoring breaking the silence again. I tossed and turned on the uncomfortable bedding, the splintered wood digging into my side from underneath the mattress, until I eventually found a comfortable position and closed my eyes… then the nightmares began.