New Mexico Badlands
At the time Doppelganger launched his attack on RED Base in an attempt to steal the powers of Seeman and Seelder, blew up said base, and engaged in a deadly battle of blades with HECU Sergeant Ghost, it was high noon. The sun was just on the brink of setting in the summer heat, the fight had gone on for so long, the RED Mercenaries, the Freaks, and Miss Pauling were eating dinner, courtesy of the barbeque grill in Sniper's van and Engineer's amazing talent with cooking beef. Everyone sat around, eating burgers and drinking beer, watching as Ghost and Doppelganger fought off in the distance. Granted, the fight stopped being epic three hours ago and was now pretty pathetic.
Doppelganger was completely exhausted, panting heavily as he weakly attempted to defeat Ghost. The Copycat Freak was barely able to lift his once burning machete, let alone land a successful attack, but needless, he tried, only to have it lazily batted away by Ghost, who oddly didn't even seem the least bit tired. What formerly was an incredible clash of steel, showering sparks across the desert floor in a vicious bloodlust, had become a pitiful struggle that barely even qualified as a love tap. Doppelganger heaved and panted, attempting another strike at the masked man, only to be parried once more. It was getting pretty tiresome, especially for the onlookers.
"Was this seriously your master plan?" Major Scout Guy asked, glaring at Handsome Rogue as he took an idle sip of beer. "Wear him down then get the jump on him?"
"It's not ze most conventional of plans," Handsome Rogue admitted, putting the bottle of beer down. "But it is ze most effective."
"Sounds more like a cop-out ending…" Muttered RED Soldier as he dug around the cooler for a beer. "Or worse, a middle finger to the viewers!" Everyone rolled their eyes at Soldier's antics, ignoring what he said as per usual.
"As much as it pains my processor," Soldine said, standing next to the beer cooler, not once taking his eyes off the fight. "Designate Freak Handsome Rogue's plan is the most logically effective. Target Doppelganger's power far exceeds that of our own, and Sergeant Ghost's strength illogically matches the Primary Target's."
"And here's ze interesting tidbit on Doppelganger's power," Handsome Rogue chuckled, folding his arms behind his back. "He's still physically human, so he can't operate at peak efficiency with multiple powers and personalities copied, meaning he'll burn out from exhaustion if he overextends himself." The French Freak reached to the side, grabbing a hamburger off his plate. "So we do ze simplest thing in ze book: Let Ghost do our job for us, zhen swoop in and take ze credit." He took a bite from his burger, accidentally squirting ketchup and mustard from his food and onto his yellow suit. "Merde!" Major eyed Handsome Rogue warily, distrusting of the underhanded Freak, but was broken from his thoughts when Orangeman shook his shoulder.
"Look, Major laddie," Orangeman said, idly stirring a beer bottle. "I hate tha' back-pokin' snake as much as you, and probably as much as Soldine does, but he's got a point. Doppelganger's out of our league, if ye remember last time." Major winced at the particular memory, when Doppelganger began his first rampage, and how he humiliatingly lost his own gun to the white-suited menace. "Ghost can handle it, he's just as strong as tha' rest 'o us Freaks. So loosen yer nickers, lad," Orangeman playfully shoved. "Relax fer once, RED me is startin' a poker game and I want in." The former clone walked off, joining a game between Magic Mann, RED Demoman, RED Sniper, and Seeman. Major thought back on his old friend's words, the truth in them. He'd been too busy keeping the peace, there could always be time for relaxation.
"Hey, deal me in, fellahs." Major said, walking to the card game as RED Demoman was strangling Magic Mann, shouting something about marked cards. Off on the side of the camper van, RED Medic stared intently at Medizard's glove, and the orb of magic in the palm of his hand, snowflakes daintily dancing around his fingers.
"Absolutely fascinating!" Medic giggled, watching the master in his craft. "I always wanted to run experiments on zat wizard, Merasmus, but ve vere always trying to kill him. Never get ze chance…"
"Magic is not zomezing ve can easily experiment on," Medizard explained, conjuring a spiked ice-ball in his hand. "It is incredibly unpredictable und inexplicable, anyzing can happen!"
"But how did you come by it?!" Medic asked, prodding at the ice-ball. "It magic inherent in living beings, und ve need to learn to tap into it? Did you uncover a text that taught you how to perform dark magic vis ice? Oooh!" He leaned towards his icy duplicate, grinning like a child with candy. "Was it a Frostonomicon?"
"Herr Doktor," Medizard sighed, gently pushing Medic back a bit. "I do not know how I came about my powers, nor do I deny my curiosity as to how, but I focus more on 'vat is' instead of 'vat if'. Take my advice and not let it go to your head."
"I can't!" Medic exclaimed, reaching into his medical coat. "You're a derivative clone of my DNA, so you understand how I get ven an idea pops into my head! Ze experiments I could run, ze possibilities!" He produced from the confines of his person a large, and admittedly terrifying, needle. "I need blood samples!" Before the German maniac could try anything, a gust of frost blew over the needle and the tips of his hand, the rubber gloves hardening under the harsh cold and the needle freezing solid. Medic immediately felt himself grabbed by the collar of his shirt and slammed against the van, staring into the icy eyes of Medizard.
"Listen to me, Herr Medic." Medizard hissed, the name sounding like venom on his lips. "I may be a byproduct of your evil genetic structure, but hear zis," He tightened his grip on Medic's collar. "I am nothing, NOTHING, like you. Ze fact I am spawned from your DNA makes me sick to my stomach. I may be a Freak, created vis ze intent of creating a mutant clone killer, but unlike you," He leaned in, his frozen breath chilling Medic's very bones. "I'm not a monster." Medizard released Medic from his grasp, and angrily stomped away, shattering the frozen needle beneath his boot. Medic rubbed his neck, his face pale and a look of shock splayed across his face.
"Wow, talk about an Ice Queen, am I right?" RED Scout said, walking up to Medic. The young Bostonian looked at Medic's face, seeing the utter look of shock and confusion. "Hey, Doc, are ya alright? I haven't seen ya this freaked since we found out ghosts were real."
"Oh, um, it's nothing." Medic stammered regaining his posture and scraping off the bits of ice on his hand. "Just a bit of a dispute between ze two of us."
"And now you've got Medizard's cold shoulder, pal," Seedler said, joining the conversation. "That was a mistake on your part."
"A mistake?" Medic asked, looking at his slightly ruined glove.
"Medizard apparently has altered brainwaves to make him colder and crueler." Seedler explained, pointing at the shattered needle remains. "Making him slightly more aggressive, but somehow less crazy than the rest of us. You make him mad, hoo-boy," Seedler elbowed the taller German man. "You're in for a world of heat… Or, um," He paused rubbing his jaw. "World of chill! Yeah… I think…" Seedler wandered off, with Scout in suit. Medic glanced down at the remains of his blood transfusion needle, already melting under the summer heat. A thought lingered on his mind, the last thing he was called by Medizard before he stormed off, he mused upon it as he rubbed his sore neck.
"He called me a monster…" Medic softly said. "Does zat mean he knows?"
Doppelganger wheezed and panted as he swung for another attack, only to be parried once more by Ghost. The white-suited Freak was doubled over, barely able to stand, let alone lift his weapon, while Ghost just stood tall, his face masked by his ski mask and glasses. Gently, Ghost reached out and pushed Doppelganger back a few inches, causing him to stumble.
"COME ON!" Doppelganger shouted between raspy breaths. "Just let me hit you ONCE!" Ghost shrugged his shoulders, and kept his arms firmly planted at his side. Doppelganger yelled at the top of his weak lungs, swinging his blade once more, but this time Ghost did not block. The machete sliced across his chest, but no damage was dealt to his body, just a long tear on his shirt. Doppelganger laughed, pointing at the cut. "HAHA! I TOLD YOU I WOULD WIN! DOPPELGANGER ALWAYS WINS! HAHAHAHA!" His laughter was cut short when Ghost roughly shoved him to the ground, Doppelganger too weak to stand up. "Can we call it a draw?" Back at the camp, everyone cheered at Ghost's victory against Doppelganger. Handsome Rogue smirked, rising from his seat and turning towards Seelder.
"Time for part two," Handsome Rogue said wickedly. "Seedler, why don't you dance for our friend down there?"
"Yay!" Seedler cheered, running down the slope, only to trip up and tumble down the desert ground. Ghost saw something kicking up dirt a little ways away, seeing it grow larger and closer every couple seconds. Eventually, the dust settled, revealing a dazed and battered Seelder, trying to make his eyeballs stop rolling around his oversized head. "Stop the ride, I wanna get off~." Doppelganger weakly turned towards Seedler, a sinister yet tired smile forming on his face.
"Hey, Seedler my friend," Doppelganger beckoned, reaching towards the big-headed Soldier Freak. "Come over here and help me up so I can take this human down a few notches." Seedler paused for a moment, looking up and rubbing his chin. Eventually, a happy smile formed on his face. He took a deep breath and gave his answer.
"No." Seedler simply said.
"No…" Doppelganger repeated, getting pretty angry.
"SEE!" Seedler exclaimed, his face contorting in a bizarre look. Out of nowhere, guitars started playing a heavy metal ballad and Seedler began to have body spasms that could only the most idiotic of people could call dancing. Abruptly, the music stopped, and Seelder held a malicious grin on his oversized head. Ghost immediately withdrew, bolting back towards the camp with unusual speed. Doppelganger was confused, his opponent fled and now this idiot just did a dance and was probably going to fight… him…
"No." Doppelganger breathed, bug eyed and terrified. Seedler began sprinting towards Doppelganger, cackling all the way. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOO!"
"DOG PILE!" Seelder exclaimed, jumping atop a screaming Doppelganger.
And then they both exploded.
Seedler's ultimate self-defense attack was enabled, turning his body into a touch sensitive bomb. The instant he made contact with Doppelganger, something within the Freak ignited, and caused an explosion of immense proportions. A mushroom cloud of smoke and fire erupted from Doppelganger's location, towering higher than Upward and practically blocking the sun. So naturally, the REDs and the Freaks were treating it like it was the Fourth of July, fireworks and all.
"Now THAT'S a bloody ka-boom, ya half-wit!" Seeman cheered, dancing on the camper van. "That's me mate out there that did that! WOO HOO!"
"Don't start the party yet," Major clarified, giving a cautionary click of his gun. "We don't know if Doppelganger survived that." Complying, everyone piled into their respective vehicles and drove down towards the clearing explosion. Once within safe proximity, the REDs had their weapons out, Freaks armed at the ready, and Miss Pauling carefully handing back with a shotgun. Eventually, the smoke finally cleared, revealing a sight everyone hoped to see: Seedler standing amongst the exploded remains of Doppelganger.
"Hello maggots!" Seedler cheerfully exclaimed, pointing at the top of his head. "I just got a new hat! I think it was Doppelganger's ass…" Everyone cheered, hoisting Seelder into the air for doing what seemed to be the impossible: End Doppelganger's Rampage. After a good while of partying, Miss Pauling gathered Doppelganger's remains in a burlap sack and piled on all the Freaks (except Intelligent Heavy) into the jeep. The jeep drove off, leaving the battered and bruised REDs and their helper Freak alone in the Badlands.
"Well, Ah guess that's the end of that." Engineer said, planting his fists on his hips.
"Yep, everything's back to the way it was." Soldier said with a dopey grin on his face.
"Aside from the fact we have no Base/Home and most of our stuff went up with a third of the building," Scout grumbled, folding his arms. "Then yeah, everythin's all hunkey-doory."
"I'll contact Hale or the Administrator on getting repairs done," Sniper said, tilting his hat. "Maybe we'll get paid vacation, if we're lucky."
"You know what Heavy thinks?" Heavy asked, wrapping his arms around Medic and Sniper. "I think things will look up now. Come! Heavy made sandviches!" The Mercs smiled, both at Heavy's positive attitude and the prospect of sandwiches, and headed towards the camper van. However, Intelligent Heavy turned about, feeling an odd feeling of being watched. The pot-wearing Freak paid no mind, dismissing it as a passing quirk from the calamity. As he joined the others at the camper van, no one noticed the suited figure, obscured by bandages, vanish into the sands to report the latest incursion.
The Pentagram
Castle Nightmare
Within the blackened arcades of the Castle Nightmare, where naught but the moans of undead clones, pitter patter of footsteps from the Men of Mystery, and the demonic chanting of the Disciples, echoed off the halls of the satanic building, there sits a private room where only four are permitted to enter: Nightmare Medic and his three generals. Inside this special room, this room hidden deep within the bowels of the Castle, contained but a single object: a grand pipe organ. Forged from the finest brass, lined with keys of pure ivory and obsidian, decorated with skulls of the dead, towering high above the room, in the few moments the Demon in Freak's skin would take the time to play out one a many masterpiece, the entire Pentagram would be shaken by at the foundations from the sheer power such an instrument possessed, sending crippling fear into even the blackest of hearts. Those moments were few, but on such a tremendous occasion for the Nightmare, it would seem the stage was set for an incredible piece.
The Demonic Freak stood before his prized possession, the glistening flame of the torches giving the organ an almost angelic shine. Nightmare Medic ran his hand along the pipes, feeling a chill only a musician could feel when ready to perform. About to take his seat atop the velvet bench, all he needed to do was await the conductor's signal.
"Dark master…" Nightmare heard Sentinel say from behind. The Oni-masked Soldier Freak knelt on the ground. "Our spies have reported Ninja Spy has successfully planted the Virus within the Eye in the Sky. We have also received word from the Men of Mystery, Doppelganger has been defeated, furthering my lord's plans." He heard naught but a deep sigh from his master. "Does this please you, my lord?"
Nightmare Medic chuckled, taking his seat before the organ. "You have done well, Sentinel." He cracked his fingers one by one, the sound reverberating off the dark walls. "The pieces continue to fall into place, and soon all that I have worked for will finally come into fruition." He placed his hands above the keys, a haunting smile etching on his face. "I do believe we haven't had enough music played around here."
"No we haven't, my master." Sentinel said, a smile forming beneath his mask. "Shame others have not heard the sonata of your soul in a long time."
Nightmare gave a short laugh. "Then they shall." His fingers struck the keys. All across the Pentagram, a loud and haunting orchestra blew across the hellish landscape. Booms of notes rocked the Dutchman, sending undead overboard the ghostly ship and waking Lord DeGroot from his nap. A song of darkness shook the Mausoleum, waking Demonic Freaks from their slumber within their stone coffins. Artificial volcanoes erupted alongside the melody of evil, forming a percussion only nature could provide. The Castle Nightmare itself glowed in satanic light, engulfing the haunting fortress in a red hue only seen within the depths of hell itself. Ghosts, demons, undead, and monsters alike all trembled beneath the ominous sonata, the music of Nightmare Medic come from the hollowest of souls and blackest of hearts. The demonic Medic Freak's fingers fluttered with the grace of a dancer across the keys, every stroke of the instrument produced another booming, ominous, and hauntingly beautiful song. Sentinel bore audience to his master's latest masterpiece with great admiration. He served gratefully to his master for so long, and to see him in such a state of joy brought a warmth of pride to the demon's heart.
"Soon, my war of darkness shall begin," Nightmare Medic softly said, unheard over the cacophony of his own music. "And everyone, RED, BLU, Mann, Freak, all will be burned beneath the draconic flame of my unending wrath." The final note was played, and all was left in silence.
Poison within the heart of Man,
Tension amongst the monsters clan….
Sparks of hatred ignite the fire,
Destruction is the fuel of demonic ire….
*Editor's Note: Nightmare Medic's Organ Music is heavily inspired by Davy Jones from Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. ~IDA Official, Chief Editor Jasper T. Critic*
Author's Note: And thus we bring the Doppelganger Arc to a close. Wow, the first minor arc of Project FREAK is finally over, and the major arc is just beginning. What to do now? Well, as a preview to you readers, the next few chapters will be almost completely focused on BLU Team and what's going on with them during this whole catastrophe, and a character arc featuring a Freak that has previously held the spotlight. Which Freak, you may ask? Well, that'd be a spoiler now, wouldn't it? Anyway, thank you for your continued patronage from all of us at the IDA, and we'll see you in the next chapter. Take care and enjoy the read!
