Chapter 21
"RUUUN! AGAIN!" screamed Simmons.
Haruhi was right behind him, chasing him with a gigantic, dead cockroach that was 2 feet long. If there was anything that Simmons couldn't detest more, it was Cockroaches. MONSTEROUS COCKROACHES. "Come on, Simon-San, it wants to say hello to you!" Haruhi giggled. Ever since they had their first meal, they were so bored their eyes melted out of their sockets. Most of the manga was in Japanese, which meant only Haruhi was able to read them. The English manga was represented by a lone book that was actually a COOKING BOOK stylized into MANGA! Haruhi found "Brian" when she was prying open crates, and now she had something to do.
"Good job, Haruhi!" congratulated Sarge, now jogging alongside Haruhi. "It's relieving to see that the team is getting the exercise they need! Say, how about you chase the rest of the team as well? We could all use cardiovascular exercise!" This sparked an idea in Haruhi's mind, causing her to run up to Tucker.
"Hey, Haruhi, what's that you're holdingAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" screeched Tucker, who slapped a terribly written, printed FanFiction shut and joined Simmons in his sprint for his life. "WHERE'D YOU GET THAT LARGE-A-S COCKROACH?! AND WHY ARE YOU CHASING US!?"
"I dunno. I'm bored!" giggled Haruhi, and resumed her pursuit while cradling the dead cockroach as if it were a newborn baby. "Come on, go kiss it!"
Simmons cried out, "I don't recall girls acting like this at this age!"
"Maybe she's got guts!" Tucker replied, throwing his arms in the air and flipping them around. They rounded a corner to reveal Grif sitting on a crate, who somehow managed to snag a copy of World War Z. As he finished reading Todd Wainio's interview on the catastrophic, historical failure battle of "Yonkers", the corner of his eye spotted Tucker running for his dear life. Grif closed his book and got up, only to find Simmons in his face.
"GRIF, RUN!" shouted Simmons, then darted away with Tucker. Grif sighed and scratched at his neck, which was currently being attacked by a very ticklish sensation. It persisted, however, so Grif turned around... into Haruhi's beaming face. She wasn't wearing her helmet, and for some motherf—king reason her armor no longer looked like it came out of an anime (Haruhi still did). And if things couldn't get crazier, she was holding
the biggest
cockroach
Grif had ever
seen.
"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"
On the other side of the hangar
"I just don't get it." sighed Soap.
Nicole-458 glanced at him. "What don't you get?"
"Haruhi-Chan doesn't normally act like this"
"W-what do you mean?" asked Nicole.
"Well, before sh-t was officially declared f—ked up, I was sucked through a spacetime rupture and BAM! I was in a completely different Earth, and everything looked like... I felt like I was in an anime. And before me was a burning high school, with those... things literally flailing their bladed arms-"
"Uh, nice story, but may you please just get to the point?" Church cut in. He was apparently residing in Nicole's armor.
"You know what? Fine. Anyways, as soon as I set foot in the High School, I stepped on a report card. If you didn't know, I HAVE to read report cards as soon as I see them."
"Were you a parent?" Church asked.
"Nah." replied Soap. "My job got in the way. So as I looked at the report card, I instantly knew everything about this student. Coincidentally, mother trucking coincidentally, it was Haruhi-Chan's report card. From what I can remember... she had an average 3.9 GPA."
Church's hologram appeared. "Show me." he demanded. "For proof. You could be lying- WHOA." Soap slapped a ripped and bloodstained report card on the crate he was sitting on. Haruhi had A+s in every subject: Pre-Calculus, known world history, theoretical physics, olympic-level physical education, orchestra... and her own group. "Hot d—n, she has all this and a 3.9?! WHAT THE SH-"
"She got a 3.9 mainly because of what teachers said about her." Soap picked up the report card and read what the now-infected or dead (hey, that rhymed!) teachers had to say about her. "'Haruhi Suzumiya is by far, hands down, no doubt, obviously, uh, no doubt, the smartest student I ever taught. She has undeniably lots of potential, but unfortunately she cannot use that potential for friendships.' That was by her social studies teacher, and I looked at the other reports. They were all the same, saying that she wasn't very social... you know. It turns out she only had in interest in time travelers, aliens, uh, 'espers', and other freaky stuff like that."
"So she considers us as aliens-" said Nicole, but was cut off by Church.
"-or time travelers, OR whoever the h—l the espers are. That's probably why she's friendly to us."
Soap laughed.
"Uh... what's so funny?" Nicole questioned.
"If... if anybody tries to ask her out..." gasped Soap, "she'll accept..." Nicole rolled her eyes, wondering how Tucker could possibly react to this.
"Good news for Tucker." Church sighed. "And his small hint of immaturity left in him."
"...AND THEN SHE'LL DUMP HIM A FEW MINUTES RIGHT AFTER!" Soap just lost it, bending over and crying uncontrollably as he laughed. Church visualized Tucker's face after his hopes sunk down the drain and into the ocean where it was torn apart by barracuda and sharks.
Haruhi and Sarge were now chasing around not only Simmons, Tucker, and Grif, but also Donut, Doc, and Agent Washington (who wasn't really scared, just bored). "Run faster, Grif!" warned Sarge as Haruhi threw the dead cockroach on his helmet. It wrapped around his head, blocking his vision of decaying cockroach guts and an occasional maggot or two. Grif let out an inhuman scream of horror and ran into a crate filled with packing peanuts, where he ripped the cockroach off his head and threw off his helmet, revealing his face, white as snow from shock. "Now, Grif, continue running!" Sarge ordered, but Grif slumped over and started to snore, spent.
Sarge had another one of his many epiphanies in life (again) and whispered something into Haruhi's ear as both the chasers and the chasees were taking a 30-second break. She grinned evilly, gaining the attention of Tucker, Simmons, Grif, Doc, Donut, and Washington. "What have you done now, Sarge?" groaned Washington, getting ready to sprint off again. As soon as he said this, Haruhi slipped a feather-covered glove over her armored right hand, and said deviously:
"Prepare for the grand tickle torture EXTRAVAGANZA!"
"RUN FOR YOUR G-DDA-N MOTHERF—KING, FREAKING SWEET MOTHER OF JESUS LIFE HOLY S- RUUUUN! YEAAAAAAGH!" Tucker roared, and all the Spartans excluding Grif resumed their daily exercise. Haruhi's armor apparently had an armor modification on it that allowed her to constantly and quickly regain any lost amount of stamina, which meant that she could run near-indefinitely. Combine this with the fact that she was already a fast runner without the armor, the Spartans were going to have a hard time escaping her.
Haruhi sprinted to Donut and tackled him. "If you're out of energy, just jog, 'kay?" said Haruhi as she pulled off Donut's helmet and softle brushed her feathered glove over his face and his neck.
"HAHAHAHAHAOHKAYHAHAHASTOPHAHAHAHAHHA!" Donut couldn't help it. He was the most ticklish of the group, and he felt like he was going to literally explode any moment now. Haruhi continued tickling him for ten more seconds, not budging under Donut's frail attempts to push her off. "OPHHHBHBPBHPHBH!" he choked out, his face turning red and as quickly losing breath. Shortly after, Haruhi helped him up and shoved him for a head start.
Doc dove into a crate as tall as him and slammed it shut, making no noise. But his incessant panting alerted her of his position, and soon enough her armored fist smashed through the crate's door, grabbed Doc by his neck, and pulled him out. "STOP! This is more like kidnapping than exercise!" cried Doc as Haruhi slipped on her feathered glove. "Please! Stop! NOOOPHBHBHHAHAHAHAHHSTOPHAHHAHNOOOHAHAHHHPBHBHBHAHAHBHBHBPBH" Doc suddenly sputtered as she jabbed one of her fingers into his side and brushed her feathered glove on his right armpit, arms flailing.
"Hiya guys, what's goin' on?" Caboose asked happily, but was responded by the Spartans dashing like bats outta hell past him.
"CANTTALKNOWCABOOSEGOTTAGOBYE!" Tucker shouted in a strident voice. Caboose stared at the fleeing Spartans and continued his walk around the hangar... and walked right into Sarge.
"Hiya Sarge! I just wanted to ask you how your day's going. So, how's your day?" Caboose questioned. "My day is fine so far-
"Caboose, are you ticklish?"
"Very, wh-"
Sarge turned around to face Haruhi, with an enthusiastic face and a feathered glove on her hand. "'Cause I'd run if I were you. It's daily morning exercise." But Caboose was already gone, joining Simmons, Tucker, and Agent Washington. Luckily for her but unluckily for the Spartans, someone had set up a FREAKING CHEESE WIRE BETWEEN TWO CRATES! Simmon's foot caught on the taut wire, flipping him forwards and faceplanting. Trying to avoid the same fate as Simmons, Tucker jumped over the seemingly invisible wire...
...and tripped over another one.
"Ith... Ith... Ithink we're done for today... huff..." panted Simmons, still on the floor. "And WHO KEEPS SETTING UP THE CHEESE WIRE ALL OVER THE PLACE?!" He got up and pulled the cheese wire off both crates that were keeping it taut, then tripped over the wire Tucker fell over.
Caboose spoke up. "I did it." Tucker angrily turned his head around and got ready to go apesh-t on him, but never got the chance. "I thought that we could open the crates easier if someone pulled... er... tripped... over them."
"Caboose," Sarge visorplanted, "y' know we can just use the goldurn crowbars to open them?! Haven't you been paying attention this whole TIME?!" Caboose replied by shaking his head. Just then, 1337 ran in, helmetless, with a frantic look on his face. Blood was splattered on his armored chest and arms, and some was pooling in his eye sockets.
"You look like you're an extra in a zombie movie." yawned Grif, waking up. "What's going on?"
"There was a FREAKING SPACETIME RUPTURE! IN THIS SHIP!" 1337 gulped as he forced his helmet back on. "JUST NOW! I heard it when you guys were... exercising... when I was just strolling around the hangar, you know, minding my own business when SUDDENLY I heard something that resembled one of those Covenant starlight engines activating, those loud screeching and pulsating sounds. As it subsided, all I could hear were you guys, bickering about the cheese wire I set up." Tucker leapt up and began strangling 1337, shaking him as he choked.
"WHY DID YOU SET UP THE F—KING CHEESE WIRE?! WHY?!" Tucker roared. Fearing the worst, Sarge knew his responsibility as team leader and had to end this madness. He walked over to Tucker and clocked him on the head with his pipe wrench, knocking him. Out cold. Luckily, he still had his helmet on so he wouldn't get any brain damage.
"So you're saying..." Church said in increasing levels of madness as he appeared out of Sarge's armor, "that there was a RUPTURE IN THIS SHIP, RIGHT HERE IN THIS VERY ROOM?! WE WOULD'VE HEARD IT AND SEEN IT!"
"No, he didn't say it happened here. 1337 said he heard it in the vicinity of his hearing range, so that means it was probably outside or inside this ship." Simmons said. "I think we should go check it out-"
"-NO." Sarge commanded. "WE do not know what came out of it, and what its intentions are. WE CANNOT leave this place unguarded, nor can we send anybody out there... alone. I vote 1337 and Soap investigate the area of the slipspace rupture, while the rest of us will defend this area. At any cost." Sarge one-handedly racked the pump on his shotgun and aimed it at the nearest barricaded door. "Any questions?"
Soap apparently overheard what Sarge just said. "Aye, are you bleeding crazy?!" he called as Sarge pushed the heavy crates stacked on the door away and opened it. "You're gonna get us all killed!" Looking up at Soap, Sarge grinned and responded,
"I'm not crazy. I'm just 'one heckofamomma'."
After minutes of persuading
1337 played Cry of the Banshee though his helmet and turned the volume up all the way, playing an air guitar on the solo part. It was undoubtedly his favorite song, right next to The Millionare's Holiday. Perhaps it was just him, but the song really kept his energy flowing. As he reached the end of the solo, he tripped over a corpse missing most of its head and torso. His helmet struck the floor, creating a loud CLANG that pervaded throughout the entire ship. Soap visorpalmed and said, "Real nice job, lad. Real bloody nice job. Now here they motherfreakin' come." However, not even a single lone infected marine came to the call that signified dinner for them. Odd. And as far as Soap and 1337 could tell, no growls or roars were heard. Oddalicious.
"I think the room is around THIIIIS corner!" 1337 announced, and rounded the organ-painted corner...
...right into a horrible sight.
The hallway was a dead end. And at that dead end was a horribly mutated, decayed body anchored on the wall. Only its head was the part of the body that wasn't affected, its mouth forever open in a gut-wrenching cry of pain. The reft of the body was decayed terribly, with "veins" the size of tree trunks rooting out of it and clutching to the wall. Its bloated stomach had 10 tentacles writhing out of it and jabbing at the 2 dumbfounded Spartan-IIs, trying to stab their heads off.
"Good thing this helmet is removable." remarked 1337, removing his helmet and vomiting all over the floor.
Soap decided to end its misery as quick as possible, so he unholstered his M6C SOCOM he got off an infected marine's cold, dead hands and emptied all 12 bullets into its head. The M6C SOCOM was basically an M6D pistol, except it wasn't as powerful, had a larger clip, shot much faster, and had in integral silencer. "What?! How is that physically possible?!" Soap exclaimed, staggering back in horror as he reloaded his pistol.
"Well, we might as well just sever its tentacles so it doesn't, like, go rip us to pieces or something like that." 1337 sighed as he steadied his MA5B on the creature's tentacles and fired all 60 bullets into its ten tentacles. Surprisingly, it died instantly after its tenth tentacle was filled with lead.
"Ok, WHAAAAT the bloody h-ll just happened?" said Soap. "I shoot it in the head, it doesn't die. You sever its tentacles and THAT KILLS IT?!"
"We have a problem that is over 9000 problems bigger than what you have right now." 1337 declared, and turned Soap around. They stared straight into the eyes of 15 infected marines, bits of tattered flesh hanging from their fanged mouths and bladed limbs. The one in the front turned its head completely around 720 degrees and opened its mouth wide enough to fit two heads in. "And I think we better cut and run, right Soap?" 1337 turned around to face Soap, who wasn't there. "Soap?"
"CUT AND RUN!" Soap's voice was faintly heard from a few meters away, which was all the confirmation 1337 needed to just run for his life like an angel out of heaven (wait, angels fly). He ran around the corner, infected literally on his tail... bone. Make a right, right, left on the 5th door, left, right on the 2nd door, and the entrance to the hangar is on the right. It's kind of like a zigzag 1337 frantically thought as the undead swiped at him with their bladed arms. He eventually found Soap, waiting at the door and ready to slam it shut.
"EeeeyAAAAAAA!" 1337 roared and lunged through the ajar hangar entrance. Soap slammed the door on an infected nurse's neck who had closed its fanged mouth around 1337's armored left ankle. He tripped, pulling his foot as the door severed the nurse's head. The nurse was fruitlessly attempting to bite off 1337's ankle while he repeatedly kicked it against the wall. Sighing, he slumped down on the wall, looking at Simmons and Nicole who were staring at him, both helmetless, with looks of fear sprawled on their faces. He looked at their necks and saw why.
A 5 foot long, blue broadsword with a golden edge was held to their necks.
"Uh, h-h-hey, 1337! How's it g-goin'?" Simmons said, tremulous. "H-how did it go? Y-y' know, the scouting mission?"
"Eeeeeuuhhhh..." left 1337's mouth. Soap was nowhere to be found. None of the other Spartans were seen or heard, which was odd. Normally, the hangar would be bustling with the bantering Spartans, flying objects, or the sound of a loud SMASH followed by either laughter, a swear word, or both. "S-s-so WHO THE F IS THAT?!"
"Wh-who?" stuttered Simmons. The blade slowly moved across his neck, leaving a small trickle of blood. "AAHHHwh-what are y-y-you talking about, 1337? There's nobody here..."
Never before in his career as a UNSC Spartan-II had he ever encountered his dearest friends being held at gun... er... sword point in front of his eyes. His training said something about handling a situation about this...
...something...
1337 recalled the time he distracted and defeated Pluton on the planet Cronky. What did he say again... AHA!
"OH, HEY!" 1337 shouted, pointing to an imaginary object in the hangar's roof. "WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!" Now, this only worked on people with very low IQ. Take the Covenant's secret bio-weapon, Pluton. Pluton was a Covenant Brute, or "Ape", that was 3 stories tall, could pick up tanks and play with them like toys, and punch so hard that he could literally slap heat-seeking missiles back to its sender before it had the time to home back on its target. But 1337 kicked his posterior so hard he flew outta this world. Literally. With his own darn hands and feet.
Nicole suddenly grinned and slapped the broadsword out of the person's hands. "SHE FELL FOR IT!" announced Nicole, grabbed the sword holder, and held her so 1337 could finish her off with his "Falcon Punch" armor ability, which activated some mini rocket thrusters on his right forearm that effectively multiplied the force of the punch. But there was a small problem. A problem that Sarge had to live with as well.
He couldn't hit a girl.
When Nicole said she, 1337 thought she said he. NO! IT HAD TO BE A GIRL WHO WAS HOLDING SIMMONS AND NICOLE HOSTAGE! An anime girl, too... with sapphire blue, shoulder-length hair, dark-yellowish eyes, and a black bodysuit identical to the Spartans' that was slightly too tight for her. He just didn't think it was right, to beat somebody up who was helpless and couldn't do anything. Nobody knew this, but 1337 was actually that one person that always insisted on "ladies first", like Sarge.
"I-I CAN'T!" 1337 cried. "I CAN'T HIT A GIRL! I MUSN'T!" He fell to the floor, panting.
Nicole rolled her eyes and thought I should've figured, then roundhouse-kicked her SO HARD there was a sonic boom as she flew through the air and empty crates. "SERIOUSLY, 1337? YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME EARLIER." Luckily for the group, Soap reentered cradling 4 guns in his arms.
But unluckily, the guns were outdated.
"I couldn't find your rifles, so take these instead!" Soap commanded, shoving 3 rifles into 1337's, Nicole's, and Simmons's hands. "ALSO, WHAT THE BLOODY H-LL IS GOIN' ON, LAD?"
"She went through the spacetime rupture in this ship, I don't know if there are others!" Simmons responded, fiddling with the rifle in his hands. "AND How THE F—K DO I USE THIS OUTDATED CRAP?!"
"They still use wood for rifles?" 1337 muttered, observing his gun.
Soap took off his helmet and visorpalmed. "Nicole and Simmons, you have G3 rifles from the 21st century, and 1337 has an SKS Carbine from the 1900s. To reload the G3, pull the bolt back, turn it clockwise 45 degrees, insert the fresh clip, and pull the bolt down. It should snap back to the front, and you're ready to rock n' roll! For the SKS, put the stripper clip above the loading chamber, push the bullets into the built-in clip, throw the stripper clip away, and pull the bolt back to chamber a new bullet."
"TWENTY FIRST CENTURY?!" Nicole practically yelled. "Ah, good enough."
"Both of you have German engineered rifles. You're actually pretty well-armed. And 1337 has a bloody Russian made rifle." Soap smiled. "I think he's the best off out of all of you guys."
"LESS TALK MORE ACTION!" 1337 yelled, and ran straight into the sound of Sarge's shotgun serving 8-gauge buckshot. "Hiya, Sarge, what's goin' on WHOA!"
"Son," Sarge said calmly, "have you ever had to shoot at a girl that shoots lightning out of her hands? No? BECAUSE I HAVE TO!" He turned back to see a lighning bolt in his face and instinctively grabbed the unwary, orange Spartan next to him and used him as a lighting rod. Miraculously, his shields were overcharged by OVER 9000% when the tip of the lightning bolt entered his armor.
"Aw, da—it!" Sarge shouted. "Now Grif's gonna be harder to kill!"
"Gee, thanks Sarge." Grif thanked sarcastically. "But now's not the time for you to kick my a-s, because now there's some hot anime chick wearing a Japanese shrine maiden outfit, who has black hair and the longest ponytail I ever saw. She's probably a high schooler shoots lightning out of her hand because she wants to kick all of our a-ses."
"And get our sh- utterly, and officially, f—ked up." Church added. "AHH LOOK OUT!" A blue lightning bolt slammed into Grif's sternum, robbing him of all of his energy shields and electrocuting him. Grif spasmed wildly before falling to the ground, armor blackened and smoke slowly rising.
"Alright, Japanese girl," Sarge gritted his teeth, "I never had to do this before, but I might as well do it." He looked at Nicole and said, smiling "You only die once." He leapt up a a great hight at the speed of light while she uselessly threw bolts of lightning at him, fueled by his pure adrenaline, and smashed the butt of his shotgun so hard on her cranium that she exploded in lightning. The explosion threw him back into a crate full of 21st century toasters that spilled out all over the floor, giving her a nasty idea.
"Aw, crap, she's still alive even after Sarge's shotgun smash?!" 1337 groaned. "RUUUN!" The lightning anime girl formed an aura of electricity that surrounded her body. A lone lightning bolt struck a toaster, heating it to the point where it just exploded in a matter of nanoseconds. "Jumping" from toaster to toaster, she successfully created an explosion using only toasters and lightning. Nicole threw Grif away from the explosion, but Sarge used his only time to escape in shoving 1337 away from the blast radius. As a result, not only did the explosion knock out his energy shielding, but the blast sent him soaring into a pile of crates.
Grif just woke up, looking into the eyes of the girl, who was smiling at him. Did she have wings? NO, SHE DOESN'T! Grif repeatedly told himself. STUPID! WAKE UP FROM THE G-DD—N DREAM! But he was awake. And he was very aware of the two demonic wings sprouting out of her back. Noooooo, she's TOO HOT TO BE A DEVIL! Grif cried out in his mind, lost in thought.
"Wake up, Grif." Simmons sighed, helping Grif up. "What, are you mesmerized by her?"
"I NEVER KNEW ANIME COULDBETHISHOT!" Grif screamed, smiling madly.
Nicole b—ch slapped him across the face. "Snap outta it! When this is all over, I'll buy you 100 dollars worth of Anime and Manga. Freakin' otaku."
"Ara ara." the girl giggled.
"They're like melons!" Grif pointed out, pointing at her chest.
1337 visorpalmed very hard. "NOW, GRIF?! SINK YOUSELF IN YOUR FANTASIES LATER! But I do have to admit..." he said while drooling, looking in the same place Grif was also looking at. "...THAT SHE HAS-" a lightning bolt struck both of their visors, silencing them with a thud. Tucker's scream of terror and the thud of him hitting the floor woke both of them up simultaneously, staring straight into her eyes.
"Ok, why does she have electricity surrounding her hands?" Tucker asked, frantically looking around for his DMR.
"BeCAUSE," Simmons said while steadying his aim on her head, "she wants to shock our a-ses off. No pun intended." He switched his G3 to full auto and unleashed all 20 bullets on her head, not missing once. Somehow, he managed to aim properly even with the gun jolting around due to recoil.
"I don't think you're supposed to fire that thing on full-auto." Soap said as he found out that not even one single bullet made it past her skull, let alone form a scratch on her skin. She charged up another ball of lightning the size of a basketball, then surrounded herself with more of them.
Tucker groaned and sighed "Yeah, no sh-t."
The girl smiled and said something in Japanese.
Suddenly, there were blue balls of electricity everywhere.