Chapter 18- Rebel With a Cause
*NOTE: THIS BATTLE IS TAKING PLACE AT THE SAME TIME AS THE "McNEIL v. GUARD TEAM BATTLE*
Ghost opened the battle by unloading a clip at Raiden's head, squeezing the trigger on both of his PT945s with more than enough force to send a salvo of silver bullets at Jack's skull. Jack was quick to react, however, unsheathing his blade and placing the steel between the slugs and his head. The rounds pinged against the metal as Raiden shifted the angle of his sword, following the bullets. It created a spark show on the sword, small flashes of light going as quickly as they came on the blade every time a bullet connected against the steel. It caused a vibration that went from the blade to the grip and right down to Jack's hands, causing them to go numb for several seconds.
Ghost chuckled at the sight of Raiden's blade proficiency.
"What's so damn funny?" Raiden asked, unaware of the mind games going on between the two.
Ghost refused to answer Jack's question, however. He simply continued his sinister laughter, frustrating Raiden even more.
"You know, Jack, I have a philosophy... one that you might share. I've always believed that everyone that is put on this Earth is put on this Earth... for a reason. This makes for three different types of people.
"Some people find their purpose, their reason for even being alive, and accomplish it. They are content that they can go to their grave knowing that they've done what they needed to for their world.
"Others may find out why they were put on this Earth... but they don't accomplish what they know they need to do for their world. These people usually kill themselves in the process of trying to reach their final destination, that goal... they reach for it, but eventually, finally fall short.
"And still others, Jack, wander their lives, blind as bats, never knowing what they're here for. These people are an obvious waste to society... they disgust me. Nothing but mindless drones... insects, even. They need to be eliminated... they are useless.
"Watch, and learn, Jack..."
Ghost kept his eyes on Raiden but used his left hand to aim a single PT945 at a random guard's head below. Raiden looked on the level below. The sentries, about eleven of them, surrounded Raiden's ally, Jake McNeil, although it seemed that none of them had the intestinal fortitude to make a first move. Raiden also noticed a downed guard; his riot shield was destroyed, in numerous pieces around his body, and was blood leaking from the sentry's neck.
No wonder no one wants to go against this guy... Raiden thought.
Raiden looked back at Ghost, who still had his gun pointed point-blank at the same guard. He pulled the trigger back and the bullet traveled at near light speed towards an unaware guard.
The bullet almost struck McNeil in the back of his skull (though Ghost was not aiming for him; he was aiming for the guard), but he was able to quickly dodge it at the last possible moment. It whizzed by him and struck a vulnerable guard right above his collarbone, blood spurting everywhere from the large wound.
The guard dropped instantly, yet no other sentries made any attempt to help him. If any of them had, they'd be sitting ducks for McNeil. They did conversate among themselves, however, trying to figure out who did it, caught off guard.
Jack looked back at Ghost, mouth agape in shock, anger in his eyes.
"Those people trust you! How could you possibly do that?!" Raiden yelled.
Ghost just reiterated his evil, sinister laugh, the sound echoing all around the room.
"Yes, Jack, they do trust me. But do you know why? Because I'm at the top of the ladder, I am one of the few people who have found their life purpose. People like me are rare in this world.
"But, they... they are the ones who follow people like me. They are the ones who know no life goal, a helpless follower. They are the parasites that infect this society. They have no purpose to me... they have no purpose, except to be killed.
"Now, Jack, you need to ask yourself this question: what kind of person are you? A helpless follower, someone who has no clue why they're here? A toy, a pawn... a puppet, with society pulling the strings.
"Or perhaps you know your life goal. But, if you do, you need to ask yourself something. Have you achieved it? And more importantly, if you haven't..."
Ghost then caught Raiden off guard and pointed the barrel of his gun at his head before Jack could even react.
"...Will you survive to achieve that goal, whatever it may be?"
Jack let out a scream of rage and pulled out his M4 and proceeded to let out a barrage of bullets at his nemesis. Ghost simply smiled that evil smile of his and holstered his gun. He leapt into the air, executing a flawless backflip. The rounds missed him completely, streaming underneath his leather-clad back, hitting the wall directly behind him.
The wall behind him prevented Ghost from completing his back flip (that is, landing on the floor), as the soles of his combat boots gripped the cement. Ghost decided to use this to his advantage, and pushed off of the wall, successfully performing a corkscrew flip over Jack's head. He could literally feel the heat of Raiden's gunfire as it barely missed him.
He landed on his feet behind Raiden, unharmed, facing him. He immediately brought out one of his PT945s and put it up against the back of Raiden's skull, imitating a hold-up. However, Jack did not put his hands up in response. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly in his strong grasp; he had taken it out after putting his M4 away while Ghost was in the air above his head. He turned around with his instinctive quickness, giving a hard upward thrust.
Ghost responded by moving his upper body backwards ad slightly to his right. He fired blindly from his single PT945, letting loose several bullets in Jack's direction, none of which came close to connecting.
The steel of Jack's blade zinged past his collar area, cutting it on Ghost's left, creating a large gap and exposing his neck. Jack took this opportunity to attack Ghost with his close-quarters-combat expertise. He struck his foe's jaw with a double roundhouse kick, both his left and right boot smashing against the bone in Ghost's face, nearly snapping it in two.
Ghost stumbled back, his hand instinctively reaching up to his face where the kick had connected. A searing pain covered the left side of his face; he wasn't sure if his jawbone was in one piece or not. Regardless, he continued the battle like any soldier would, recovering and facing his opponent.
Ghost then brought both of his pistols to bear and fired both guns until his clip the two clips were completely empty. They flew with an intense velocity at Raiden's chest area, most aimed at the left side. He was quick to place his blade near his upper body, rotating it appropriately at a lightning fast speed to repel the rounds. He succeeded, and not a single round got past the steel frame of Jack's sword.
He then attempted an attack on his foe, a hard thrust, a lunge that connected to Ghost's abdomen. He groaned and bent over, nearly dropping to one knee in pain. Jack noticed that he had a strange smile on his face. A sign of satisfaction of his actions. He knew that he was turning into something... something that they wanted him to be.
Nevertheless, Raiden decided to attempt an upward strike with his sword, one from the left to the right. It was an exceptionally hard swing, and Jack knew that he had made a mistake when Ghost suddenly got up from his crouch. He had been playing possum, and Raiden had fallen right into his hand.
He dodged Jack's attack by ducking to his right, and Jack's blade went diagonally to the right, hitting nothing but air. Jack had swung so vigorously that he almost lost his grip on the hilt.
Ghost then, after avoiding Raiden's attack, delivered a series of body shots to Jack's abdomen, finishing off with a stiff right hook to his jaw, sending Raiden stumbling several steps back.
Jack dropped to one knee, the wind knocked out of his system from the fierce body shots. He groaned and held his stomach, a sinking feeling taking over.
"Had enough, yet, Jack?" taunted Ghost, still playing mind games. He slowly walked over to his opponent, arrogance in his stride.
Jack then abruptly charged at Ghost, tackling his foe. They both crashed into the near wall, an intensely loud 'crack!' easily heard when the two collided with the wall. The impact had created a large, crater-like hole in the concrete, thin cracks surrounding it.
Both combatants dropped to the floor; Ghost had taken the brunt of the impact, but Jack absorbed some of it as well. Raiden was face first on the ground, barely breathing, and his adversary laid face up, eyes closed underneath the dark sunglasses.
It would appear that neither one of the fighters would be getting up any time soon. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, Ghost started to stir slightly... it wasn't a bad start. He slowly rose to his feet, breathing heavily, gasping for oxygen. He looked down at Raiden; he wasn't close to standing. Ghost readied one of his two PT945s, prepared to finish the job.
He pointed the gun at Jack's forehead, finger on the trigger, when he noticed that Jack was starting to get up as well. He put his gun away, looking down at Jack, who was struggling to get up.
"This is pathetic, Jack." It was doubtful that Raiden could even hear Ghost's words; he barely knew where he was. He crawled over towards his opponent and then reached out, his hand stretching for some sort of support. He grabbed a handful of Ghost's jacket, pulling himself up.
Ghost looked down at the defenseless Raiden and let out a slight chuckle. He bent over slightly and grabbed Jack's M4, which he'd dropped earlier. He held it above the barrel with his right hand and below the butt with his left. He cocked it back past his waist and slammed the butt into Jack's ribs, dropping him immediately. He fell to the floor, on his already- injured rib cage. A blazing, ripping pain tore through his abdomen as he desperately gasped for air, coughing up blood every time his barely-beating heart pumped.
Ghost threw Jack's gun to his floor and then reached, once again, for his gun, but decided against it, again. He decided to watch the probably pathetic show that his guards were putting on, fighting against McNeil, the one-man army. He was right. His sentries were being dominated by the man codenamed "Hawk".
Ghost scoffed and turned back towards Raiden while silently, and reluctantly, deciding to help his allies... after he was done with his current opponent.
Jack was still helpless on the floor, unmoving, however. Ghost used his left hand to grab him by his long hair and lifted him up. Raiden was no more than dead weight, a limp, almost-lifeless mass. He slammed him up against the wall and the back of Raiden's skull smashed viciously against it.
Ghost stared into the eyes of his former ally, cold hatred in them. He then removed his sunglasses with his right hand and threw them clear across the room. He heard the 'ping' as they bounced across the tile floor, but did not turn towards the noise, keeping his eyes on Jack. He laughed in Jack's face, his voice level growing louder and louder every second until he was almost screaming. It was no "ha, ha," someone-just-cracked-a-funny-joke laugh... this was a chill-runs-up-your-spine-when-you-hear-it laugh. He was demented, ruthless... there wasn't anything that he wouldn't do in this situation.
He took out his own gun, the PT945, and jammed the barrel into Jack's skull suit, on his left. A pull of the trigger would send a slug right through Jack's heart.
"Jack... can you hear me, Jack? Do you know what could happen if I pulled this trigger? All my misery, all my stress that was caused by you could easily be avenged.
"You don't know how long the wait has been, Jack, for this very moment. I need to savor it, value this instant. After all, this can only happen once, right Jack?"
Then, Ghost suddenly heard the sound of heavy footsteps. He turned around and found that the loud, stampede like footsteps came from McNeil's size sixteen boots.
Ghost let go of Jack's hair, dropping him to the floor. He stared at McNeil and vice versa. Both slowly reached for their respective weapons, Ghost for his dual PT945s and McNeil for his medium-length knife.
McNeil charged at Ghost, who stood with an arrogant smirk on his face. He bent his knees, and leapt as the battle began...
*NOTE: THIS BATTLE IS TAKING PLACE AT THE SAME TIME AS THE "McNEIL v. GUARD TEAM BATTLE*
Ghost opened the battle by unloading a clip at Raiden's head, squeezing the trigger on both of his PT945s with more than enough force to send a salvo of silver bullets at Jack's skull. Jack was quick to react, however, unsheathing his blade and placing the steel between the slugs and his head. The rounds pinged against the metal as Raiden shifted the angle of his sword, following the bullets. It created a spark show on the sword, small flashes of light going as quickly as they came on the blade every time a bullet connected against the steel. It caused a vibration that went from the blade to the grip and right down to Jack's hands, causing them to go numb for several seconds.
Ghost chuckled at the sight of Raiden's blade proficiency.
"What's so damn funny?" Raiden asked, unaware of the mind games going on between the two.
Ghost refused to answer Jack's question, however. He simply continued his sinister laughter, frustrating Raiden even more.
"You know, Jack, I have a philosophy... one that you might share. I've always believed that everyone that is put on this Earth is put on this Earth... for a reason. This makes for three different types of people.
"Some people find their purpose, their reason for even being alive, and accomplish it. They are content that they can go to their grave knowing that they've done what they needed to for their world.
"Others may find out why they were put on this Earth... but they don't accomplish what they know they need to do for their world. These people usually kill themselves in the process of trying to reach their final destination, that goal... they reach for it, but eventually, finally fall short.
"And still others, Jack, wander their lives, blind as bats, never knowing what they're here for. These people are an obvious waste to society... they disgust me. Nothing but mindless drones... insects, even. They need to be eliminated... they are useless.
"Watch, and learn, Jack..."
Ghost kept his eyes on Raiden but used his left hand to aim a single PT945 at a random guard's head below. Raiden looked on the level below. The sentries, about eleven of them, surrounded Raiden's ally, Jake McNeil, although it seemed that none of them had the intestinal fortitude to make a first move. Raiden also noticed a downed guard; his riot shield was destroyed, in numerous pieces around his body, and was blood leaking from the sentry's neck.
No wonder no one wants to go against this guy... Raiden thought.
Raiden looked back at Ghost, who still had his gun pointed point-blank at the same guard. He pulled the trigger back and the bullet traveled at near light speed towards an unaware guard.
The bullet almost struck McNeil in the back of his skull (though Ghost was not aiming for him; he was aiming for the guard), but he was able to quickly dodge it at the last possible moment. It whizzed by him and struck a vulnerable guard right above his collarbone, blood spurting everywhere from the large wound.
The guard dropped instantly, yet no other sentries made any attempt to help him. If any of them had, they'd be sitting ducks for McNeil. They did conversate among themselves, however, trying to figure out who did it, caught off guard.
Jack looked back at Ghost, mouth agape in shock, anger in his eyes.
"Those people trust you! How could you possibly do that?!" Raiden yelled.
Ghost just reiterated his evil, sinister laugh, the sound echoing all around the room.
"Yes, Jack, they do trust me. But do you know why? Because I'm at the top of the ladder, I am one of the few people who have found their life purpose. People like me are rare in this world.
"But, they... they are the ones who follow people like me. They are the ones who know no life goal, a helpless follower. They are the parasites that infect this society. They have no purpose to me... they have no purpose, except to be killed.
"Now, Jack, you need to ask yourself this question: what kind of person are you? A helpless follower, someone who has no clue why they're here? A toy, a pawn... a puppet, with society pulling the strings.
"Or perhaps you know your life goal. But, if you do, you need to ask yourself something. Have you achieved it? And more importantly, if you haven't..."
Ghost then caught Raiden off guard and pointed the barrel of his gun at his head before Jack could even react.
"...Will you survive to achieve that goal, whatever it may be?"
Jack let out a scream of rage and pulled out his M4 and proceeded to let out a barrage of bullets at his nemesis. Ghost simply smiled that evil smile of his and holstered his gun. He leapt into the air, executing a flawless backflip. The rounds missed him completely, streaming underneath his leather-clad back, hitting the wall directly behind him.
The wall behind him prevented Ghost from completing his back flip (that is, landing on the floor), as the soles of his combat boots gripped the cement. Ghost decided to use this to his advantage, and pushed off of the wall, successfully performing a corkscrew flip over Jack's head. He could literally feel the heat of Raiden's gunfire as it barely missed him.
He landed on his feet behind Raiden, unharmed, facing him. He immediately brought out one of his PT945s and put it up against the back of Raiden's skull, imitating a hold-up. However, Jack did not put his hands up in response. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly in his strong grasp; he had taken it out after putting his M4 away while Ghost was in the air above his head. He turned around with his instinctive quickness, giving a hard upward thrust.
Ghost responded by moving his upper body backwards ad slightly to his right. He fired blindly from his single PT945, letting loose several bullets in Jack's direction, none of which came close to connecting.
The steel of Jack's blade zinged past his collar area, cutting it on Ghost's left, creating a large gap and exposing his neck. Jack took this opportunity to attack Ghost with his close-quarters-combat expertise. He struck his foe's jaw with a double roundhouse kick, both his left and right boot smashing against the bone in Ghost's face, nearly snapping it in two.
Ghost stumbled back, his hand instinctively reaching up to his face where the kick had connected. A searing pain covered the left side of his face; he wasn't sure if his jawbone was in one piece or not. Regardless, he continued the battle like any soldier would, recovering and facing his opponent.
Ghost then brought both of his pistols to bear and fired both guns until his clip the two clips were completely empty. They flew with an intense velocity at Raiden's chest area, most aimed at the left side. He was quick to place his blade near his upper body, rotating it appropriately at a lightning fast speed to repel the rounds. He succeeded, and not a single round got past the steel frame of Jack's sword.
He then attempted an attack on his foe, a hard thrust, a lunge that connected to Ghost's abdomen. He groaned and bent over, nearly dropping to one knee in pain. Jack noticed that he had a strange smile on his face. A sign of satisfaction of his actions. He knew that he was turning into something... something that they wanted him to be.
Nevertheless, Raiden decided to attempt an upward strike with his sword, one from the left to the right. It was an exceptionally hard swing, and Jack knew that he had made a mistake when Ghost suddenly got up from his crouch. He had been playing possum, and Raiden had fallen right into his hand.
He dodged Jack's attack by ducking to his right, and Jack's blade went diagonally to the right, hitting nothing but air. Jack had swung so vigorously that he almost lost his grip on the hilt.
Ghost then, after avoiding Raiden's attack, delivered a series of body shots to Jack's abdomen, finishing off with a stiff right hook to his jaw, sending Raiden stumbling several steps back.
Jack dropped to one knee, the wind knocked out of his system from the fierce body shots. He groaned and held his stomach, a sinking feeling taking over.
"Had enough, yet, Jack?" taunted Ghost, still playing mind games. He slowly walked over to his opponent, arrogance in his stride.
Jack then abruptly charged at Ghost, tackling his foe. They both crashed into the near wall, an intensely loud 'crack!' easily heard when the two collided with the wall. The impact had created a large, crater-like hole in the concrete, thin cracks surrounding it.
Both combatants dropped to the floor; Ghost had taken the brunt of the impact, but Jack absorbed some of it as well. Raiden was face first on the ground, barely breathing, and his adversary laid face up, eyes closed underneath the dark sunglasses.
It would appear that neither one of the fighters would be getting up any time soon. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, Ghost started to stir slightly... it wasn't a bad start. He slowly rose to his feet, breathing heavily, gasping for oxygen. He looked down at Raiden; he wasn't close to standing. Ghost readied one of his two PT945s, prepared to finish the job.
He pointed the gun at Jack's forehead, finger on the trigger, when he noticed that Jack was starting to get up as well. He put his gun away, looking down at Jack, who was struggling to get up.
"This is pathetic, Jack." It was doubtful that Raiden could even hear Ghost's words; he barely knew where he was. He crawled over towards his opponent and then reached out, his hand stretching for some sort of support. He grabbed a handful of Ghost's jacket, pulling himself up.
Ghost looked down at the defenseless Raiden and let out a slight chuckle. He bent over slightly and grabbed Jack's M4, which he'd dropped earlier. He held it above the barrel with his right hand and below the butt with his left. He cocked it back past his waist and slammed the butt into Jack's ribs, dropping him immediately. He fell to the floor, on his already- injured rib cage. A blazing, ripping pain tore through his abdomen as he desperately gasped for air, coughing up blood every time his barely-beating heart pumped.
Ghost threw Jack's gun to his floor and then reached, once again, for his gun, but decided against it, again. He decided to watch the probably pathetic show that his guards were putting on, fighting against McNeil, the one-man army. He was right. His sentries were being dominated by the man codenamed "Hawk".
Ghost scoffed and turned back towards Raiden while silently, and reluctantly, deciding to help his allies... after he was done with his current opponent.
Jack was still helpless on the floor, unmoving, however. Ghost used his left hand to grab him by his long hair and lifted him up. Raiden was no more than dead weight, a limp, almost-lifeless mass. He slammed him up against the wall and the back of Raiden's skull smashed viciously against it.
Ghost stared into the eyes of his former ally, cold hatred in them. He then removed his sunglasses with his right hand and threw them clear across the room. He heard the 'ping' as they bounced across the tile floor, but did not turn towards the noise, keeping his eyes on Jack. He laughed in Jack's face, his voice level growing louder and louder every second until he was almost screaming. It was no "ha, ha," someone-just-cracked-a-funny-joke laugh... this was a chill-runs-up-your-spine-when-you-hear-it laugh. He was demented, ruthless... there wasn't anything that he wouldn't do in this situation.
He took out his own gun, the PT945, and jammed the barrel into Jack's skull suit, on his left. A pull of the trigger would send a slug right through Jack's heart.
"Jack... can you hear me, Jack? Do you know what could happen if I pulled this trigger? All my misery, all my stress that was caused by you could easily be avenged.
"You don't know how long the wait has been, Jack, for this very moment. I need to savor it, value this instant. After all, this can only happen once, right Jack?"
Then, Ghost suddenly heard the sound of heavy footsteps. He turned around and found that the loud, stampede like footsteps came from McNeil's size sixteen boots.
Ghost let go of Jack's hair, dropping him to the floor. He stared at McNeil and vice versa. Both slowly reached for their respective weapons, Ghost for his dual PT945s and McNeil for his medium-length knife.
McNeil charged at Ghost, who stood with an arrogant smirk on his face. He bent his knees, and leapt as the battle began...