hey! three people liked the first bit. ^_^; cool. here's the next chapter...
enjoy, be a good reader and review, I need it. ;P
Metal Gear Solid and all characters therein are copyright to Konami/KCEJ,
not me, blah blah blah. Beretta Cobra is mine, though. and Berettas are some
nice fine guns and copyright to Beretta $plug$
La Tanière du Serpent
Chapter One
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
-Spanish proverb
It can't be...
His mouth was suddnly dry, and he couldn't blink. She was dead! Yet... the woman in the photo... she had a bit shorter hair, but it was the same lovely, deep shade of red... her face... it hadn't changed any. Snapping out of his daze, Snake realized he'd slumped down onto the ground, and quickly stood up.
"Snake? Snake?!" Otacon's concerned, insistent voice repeated in his ear. He'd probably been calling for Snake for a minute or two already.
Remaining silent, Snake quickly sent the picture off to Otacon. Just as well... his tongue was still stuck to his dry teeth. He wasn't sure he could articulate at the moment, anyway. This seemed to silence the hacker, at least until the photo was done uploading.
"This looks like-" Otacon trailed off, seeming just as astonished at the picture as Snake. "But, she died..."
"She's still alive," Snake nearly growled, furrowing his brow as a wave of anger flowed through him. She was alive all this time, and never even tried to contact him...?! Snake, calm down... she's alive, isn't she? That's all that matters, right? Nodding faintly to himself, he tucked the camera away.
"It may be her... or may not. Just be careful, Snake..." Otacon warned Snake, always the more sensible one. But his advice was rewarded with the soft beep and click indicating the Codec connection had been closed... he sighed and removed his glasses carefully. Snake probably hadn't heard anything he'd said...
I don't need a damn lecture from him... what does he know about love...? Snake sneered to himself, then shook his head. That's not right, no, there was Wolf, and... A small animal slid over his boots suddenly, snapping him out of those thoughs. "Gah..!" Snake grunted, glancing down in time to catch some sort of long, hairless tail sliding under the pallet. That was one big rat... No, that didn't matter now. Not at all...
He paused a moment longer, closing his eyes... then stepped around the pallet of boxes, in plain view of the woman.
"Meryl..."
The redhead startled, jumping back defensively. She landed neatly, her feet spread, looking ready to fight back or run, if necessary... she hadn't changed any, it seemed. He noted she had a hand already tucked in her coat, ready to draw her gun...
Snake smiled faintly despite himself. "Meryl."
The woman stared at him blankly for a moment, a clump of messy hair falling over her right eye, then suddenly grinned toothily. A bit uncharacteristically for the novice soldier he'd known just months ago... "So, you remember... Solid Snake." She spoke softly.
"I could never forget..." Snake furrowed his brow, his hand slowly trailing down to his gun. This was wrong, all wrong... shouldn't she be happy? She thinks I abandoned her to die... That wasn't right. She'd know better than that...
Right?
Before he could answer his own thoughts, Snake suddenly jumped to the side out of pure instinct. He felt the bullet zoom past his shoulder as the gunshot registered fully in his brain... if he hadn't moved, it likely would have gotten him in the neck. "What the hell are you doing?!" He snarled angrily, drawing his Socom, again out of reflex.
The woman had her arm raised, clutching a Beretta 9000 in her right hand with the ease of an experienced gunfighter. A thin trail of smoke was still rising from its barrel. A faint smirk curved her lips as she made a soft, whispering hiss through her teeth.
Before Snake could wonder just what the hell she was up to, low-slung creatures slunk out of the shadows of pallets and boxes and scuttled across the floor, clustering at the woman's feet. The rats! She was... calling the rats...?
No, those were too... long... for rats...
One of the animals raised its upper body off the floor, flaring out a patterned hood, a threadlike tongue flickering out of its scaled lips.
Snakes.
Cobras.
Snake counted six of them, their mottled bodies writhing and slithering around the woman's ankles and boots, twining amongst themselves like living, flexing rope. Then he proceeded to state the obvious: "You're... not Meryl..."