Author's Note:Well, I have some explaining to do for this story. I'm part of a text based role-play site called Advanced Halo Unlimited. On our site is a section for fanfiction. I've been a fan of fanfiction (ha) for years, so I decided to try my hand at it It's a crossover of sorts, containing the supervillain of my favorite author, and the original characters created by myself and other members of AHU. And so, after some revisions, updates, and spelling corrections, here is the fruit of my labor. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo, Randall Flagg, or certain characters presented in this fanfic. Save for Flagg, these characters are used with permission.

The Gathering and the Storm
Part 14: Down in the Dungeons

SCPO Andrew Greer-032 opened his eyes and grunted in pain. His head hurt, and his armor was gone, leaving the black rubber under suit. Sitting up, Andrew saw he was in a cell of some sort.
"Good to see you're up." said a voice behind him. Andrew looked in that direction to see a man in combat fatigues, a standard t-shirt, and combat boots. "PFC Luke Zellner." said the marine, referring to himself.
"Senior Chief Greer-032." Andrew replied as he rubbed the back of his sore head. "Any idea where we are?"
"Some rebel base somewhere in some system." replied Luke. "So, Chief, you plan on bustin' us out?"
Andrew turned and studied the glass wall. It was thick. After testing it, he found it too thick.
"I'd need my armor to break that." Andrew said as he sat down in the corner across from Luke.
"I thought Spartans could do anything." Luke said, already fearing where this conversation was going.
"When properly equipped, yes." replied Andrew. The two sat in silence for some untold amount of time. Just as Luke was about to ask a question, a door opened at the end of the hall outside the cell. There was an odd clonking sound as a shadow in the light from the door began approaching their cell.
"Somebody's gonna hurt someone," a voice was singing. "'Fore the night is through ough ough." The shadow soon stopped outside there cell, now fully visible to both inhabitants: Randall Flagg.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't John Rambo himself." Flagg said, his attention on the Spartan. Andrew had no idea who John Rambo was, and he honestly didn't care. "Ohhh, why so quiet?" asked Flagg in a mocking concerned mother voice. "Not so high and mighty without your armor, are ya tin man? And even if ya did have it, it wouldn't be of any use. No matter what happens here, the both of ya are gonna die."
"Yeah? Well you obviously haven't heard: Spartans never die!" replied Luke, the confidence in his voice almost heart-breaking considering the truth.
"Oh really? We'll just see about that." replied Flagg as two large guards entered, carrying a figure by the armpits. Even without the armor, it was obvious this figure was a Spartan. "This little guy here's been drugged so he'd co-operate." said Flagg. "And do you know what?" he asked. Before anything else could be said, one of the guards dug a pistol barrel into the back of the Spartan's skull and pulled the trigger, splattering bone shards and brain matter all over the glass wall of the cell. "It doesn't matter. Because he was dead anyway. Just. Like. You." Flagg said, his mouth spread in that maddening grin. Without even bothering to clean the glass, Flagg and the guards left the room, the living Spartan, and the horrified marine alone. I love watching them squirm. Flagg thought, still grinning ear to ear.