As the sun went down over Badwater Basin, Scout stood on the rooftop of the RED base, surveying the surrounding desert. In the gathering darkness, the dirt and scrub beyond the base's perimeter looked gray and indistinct.
It was his nightly ritual to come up here, take a look around, then get back inside as quickly as he could. There was something about this place that gave him the creeps, more than any of the other far-flung places to which the team had been sent. The base stood miles from civilization, surrounded by nothing but dirt and rocks, creating an effect that gave Scout a distinct case of the willies. That was why he was out on the rooftop, scoping out his surroundings. From this vantage point, he could make sure, each night, that the base wasn't about to be attacked by zombies or aliens.
Not that he was scared or anything.
The rooftop hatch banged open just feet behind him. "GAH! JESUS!" Scout yelled, in a voice several notes higher than usual. He whipped around at the sound of the wooden crash.
"Relax, lad, it's just me." The voice of Demoman came rising from within the hatch as he climbed up the ladder.
"Jesus, man, don't sneak up on me like that!" Scout's voice had returned to normal, but his breathing remained heavy.
Demoman hoisted himself through the hatch and onto the rooftop, his footing a bit wobbly. "I've never been up here before," he said, throwing his arms out to regain his balance. With his foot, he closed the hatch behind him.
"Yeah, well, you ain't usually in a fit state to climb ladders, are ya?" said Scout.
Demoman narrowed his eye at Scout. "You watch yourself, laddie. I've had enough of you mother hens clucking away at me."
"Hey, I was just kidding!" Scout said quickly, putting his hands up. The last thing he needed was a scuffle with a drunken cyclops on a slanted rooftop.
Demoman glared at Scout for several more seconds, then turned his gaze to the surrounding darkness. "What are you doing up here, anyway?" he asked, pulling a small flask out of his pocket.
"Nothing," Scout said. He shivered as a gust of cold wind blew, ruffling his clothes. "I was about to go inside anyway."
"Kinda spooky, isn't it?" Demoman said, taking in the view and sipping from his flask.
"Uh...no," Scout said. "Nothing to be scared of, you big baby. Now let's go inside." He took a step toward the hatch, but Demoman was standing on it, seemingly oblivious. Another gust of wind blew in, nearly blowing Scout's hat off. "Hey, get out of the way, you dumb ox!" he said, trying unsuccessfully to push Demoman off the hatch. "It's fucking sc-...cold out here!"
Demoman didn't answer. He was staring intently at a spot in the darkness down below. He squinted his eye and muttered something to himself.
Curious in spite of himself, Scout followed Demoman's gaze. He couldn't see anything at first, just the same darkness that surrounded the base. But then, as his eyes adjusted, he saw...something. Barely discernible through the blackness, Scout could vaguely make out movement on the outside of the fence down below. It was some kind of animal, about the size of a coyote, and it seemed to be prowling.
"Hey, Demo," Scout said, not taking his eyes off the thing, "what the hell is that?"
"I might be wrong," Demoman said, taking another sip from his flask and continuing to gaze down at the creature. "I hope I'm wrong."
"What the fuck are you saying, man?" Scout said, his voice rising once again.
"Unless I'm mistaken, that's a...a..." Demoman's voice trailed off.
The thing, whatever it was, had begun to scale the fence. When it reached the top, it paused for a moment, long enough for Scout to make out its shape in the pale moonlight. It looked like some kind of hideously deformed rabbit, abnormally large with fierce looking claws and glowing red eyes. Scout was a city boy, unaccustomed to seeing wild animals, but even he knew that rabbits didn't have antlers like this one did, especially not ones that looked big enough and sharp enough to gore a fully grown man.
"RUN!" shouted Demoman. He turned around and flung the hatch open, jumping straight down without a moment's hesitation.
With an embarrassingly girly shriek, Scout followed, pausing at the top of the ladder to close and lock the hatch after him. He looked down to see Demoman getting up from an apparently rough landing.
Standing upright once again, Demoman turned to Scout, a truly wild look in his eye. "Come on, lad, there's no time to lose." He turned and began walking quickly down the hall.
"Yo, Demo! Wait!" Scout hopped off the ladder and followed Demoman as he marched away. "What the hell's going on? What the fuck was that?"
"You'll know soon enough," said Demoman darkly.
The main portion of the Badwater base wasn't very big, so Demoman's preferred method of calling a meeting (by stomping through the halls and literally calling out "MEETING!") proved surprisingly effective.
"Vat is happening?" came Medic's annoyed voice from the infirmary. He poked his head through the doorway, with a look on his face that could have curdled milk.
Scout, who was afraid of Medic even at the best of times, pointed nervously at Demoman as the two of them passed.
"Zis had better have a purpose, young one," Medic said, as if Scout were the one marching through the halls and shouting at the top of his lungs. With one last withering glare, he joined step with them.
The three of them made their way to the conference room (which Soldier had insisted be dubbed the "war room"), Heavy and Pyro trailing in after them.
"Why do we have meeting so late?" boomed Heavy.
"Clearly we are under a surprise BLU attack!" Soldier yelled, marching in and taking his place at the head of the table.
"Well that sure as heck can't be right," said Engineer, who came in behind Soldier wearing a somewhat garish set of flannel pajamas and slippers.
A snorting laugh came from an empty corner. "Don't tell me you sleep in that," said Spy, materializing in a cloud of cigarette smoke.
"What's going on?" said Sniper as he walked in, his clothes and hair caked with dirt.
"Vat have you been doing?" asked Medic, taking in Sniper's appearance.
"Napping," said Sniper, apparently confused that anyone would need to ask.
Everyone but Spy took a seat at the long table, chatting and bickering amongst themselves.
"Vell?" said Medic as soon as everyone had settled in. "Explain yourself, Herr Demoman."
Demoman took a deep breath and a gulp from his flask before speaking. "Not five minutes ago, Scout and I saw something outside. I could hardly believe it at first, but there was no mistake. I know you lot might not believe us, but your very lives depend upon following my orders exactly. This thing is a threat not only to the base, but to the very fabric of this whole bloody team."
"Get to the point," said Spy.
Demoman glared at Spy, but continued. "Just now, right outside, Scout and I saw...a jackalope."
The silence that followed this statement lasted ten full seconds.
"What is 'jackalope'?" asked Heavy finally.
"It's a beast from American folklore," said Engineer. "It's traditionally depicted as the hellish offspring of a pygmy deer and a man-eating jackrabbit. Extremely cunning, undoubtedly dangerous, but," and here he looked at Demoman, "no more real than the chupacabra."
"The chupacabra is real, and so is the jackalope!" Demoman shouted. "I saw it with me own bloody eye! And so did the boy here!" Unhelpfully, he pointed at Scout with his flask.
"Hey, I never heard of no jackalope," said Scout, "but I did see something out there. And that shit did not look normal, alright?"
"Herr Demoman," said Medic, eyeing the flask, "are you sure you haven't ha-"
"Stop telling me I've had enough!" shouted Demoman.
"This is an outrage!" yelled Soldier. "Are you telling me that we are wasting the time that we should be using to rest for tomorrow's battle on this? Private, your drinking is a disgrace to this entire unit!"
"I'm telling the truth!" Demoman yelled back. "If we don't find it and kill it, it'll terrorize us! Do any of you want to wake up getting your leg gnawed off? Respawn or not, that's a slow way to die, boyo!"
"We are expected to believe the testimony of you two?" said Spy. "A paranoid drunk and an idiot child?"
"Hey, no one asked you, fuckface!" said Scout, rising from his seat.
"Alright, let's everyone just calm down," said Engineer, getting up to step between Scout and Spy. He turned to Demoman. "Now, I ain't denying that you might have seen something out there, but the likelihood of it being a jackalope is pretty darn...remote."
"Ask him if you don't believe us!" said Demoman, pointing his flask at Sniper. "You were just outside. Did you see anything?"
"What makes you think I was outside?" said Sniper, scratching his head and raising a cloud of dust. "Anyway, I just said I was asleep."
"Look, we're telling the truth, alright?" said Scout. "And we know what we saw."
"Scout," said Engineer gently, "d'ya remember that time at Yukon when you thought you saw a grizzly bear in the kitchen, and it turned out to be a potbelly stove?" Scout opened his mouth to make an indignant response but was silenced by Engineer holding up a hand. "All I'm saying is that you seem to have-"
"The intellect of a saucepan," interrupted Spy.
"-an overactive imagination," finished Engineer.
"If zat is all, zen I vill be going now," said Medic, standing up to leave. Everyone but Scout and Demoman followed suit.
"Hey, what the hell?" said Scout. "You guys can't leave! That thing's still on the loose!"
"Why don't you two get some rest," said Engineer, not unkindly.
Scout watched glumly as the room emptied. "Well? What do we do now?" he said, turning to Demoman.
"It's just you and me, lad," Demoman said, his brow creased in thought. After a moment, he seemed to decide something. "I know where to start. Let's go."
As Demoman stood up to leave, Scout followed. "Man, I hope you know what you're doing."
Demoman looked back, a mad grin on his face. "'Course I do, lad. Bloody bastard won't know what hit it."