Disclaimer: See the foreword
Author's Babble: First off, I want to apologize for the extra long delay between updates. Things got really slow after break, and I suddenly found myself bogged down with unbelievable amounts of work from my classes. Thanks again to those that reviewed. And now, something… supernatural.
Metal Gear: Bloody Hands
Written by Tempest Dynasty
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Chapter 5: Exorcism
A Mossburg 590 combat shotgun came up to aim, and with a deafening roar, spat out a lethal cloud of flechettes. At point blank range, the small steel spikes easily pierced protective armor and ripped apart the soft flesh underneath. In moments, the man died, his lifeless hands dropping his rifle. Even before the guy began his slump to the ground, the shotgun cocked another shell, and unleashed its load on another stunned soldier, ripping the head apart into bits of flesh with a shower of anti-personnel flechettes. Two dead, in a surprise attack that shocked all.
There were still four to go.
Maggie didn't understand it, what she saw was a feat of inhuman speed and reflexes. Although busy with laying cover fire, Garland had kicked backwards at the moment the shotgun fired, changing the aim to hit the Genome soldier next to the gunner. In a blur, Garland had dropped his rifle and appeared next to the shotgun soldier and took control of the weapon. Garland's hands were covering the Genome's, bypassing the DNA restriction and letting the mercenary use the gun at will. Cocking the gun and facing the next soldier, he fired again into the man's face. As brain matter and skull fragments blossomed out the back of the man's head.
To Garland, everything seemed sluggish: the soldiers moved in slow motion, Maggie's head was turning towards him slowly, and the overall response time was gradual. By the time the three remaining men shook off their shock and entered close-quarters-combat, the mercenary was already into his attack. While still holding on to the shotgun, he stuck the enemy soldier's chest with a fierce elbow strike, twice, three times, until the gun slipped from numb hands. Spinning to face the staggering soldier, Durev swung the shotgun like a club, knocking the poor man's head to the side with enough force to snap the neck. He stayed in the spin, increasing the velocity of the dented shotgun as he flung the broken weapon into the second to last Genome. The attack impacted on his face and crushed his nose, effectively stunning him as Garland faced the last man. With a low kick, the martial artist knocked away the NGSF soldier's footing, sending him into a free fall. As he floated in the air momentarily, a ridiculously strong punch smashed into his sternum, crushing the ribs and sending the fragments into his heart and lungs, while simultaneously launching the dying man into the elevator wall.
The FOX-HOUND commando thought she saw flames encompassing Garland's fist. She was bringing her rifle up to aim at the bloody nosed soldier when a blur entered her field of vision once more, a metal reinforced fist driving itself into the bloody man's gut. The force was great enough to lift him off the ground, an uppercut that held the man several feet off the ground.
"Sayonara," she heard the mercenary whisper before he pivoted to face out the elevator door and unleashed a devastating punch, smashing the unfortunate soldier across the room and impacting heavily into the concrete wall, forming large cracks in it as well.
Six genetically modified soldiers were neutralized in less than a minute.
Garland threw the corpses out of the elevator and bowed to the bewildered FOX-HOUND agent, gesturing for her to enter.
"My lady, your transport as arrived."
My God… that's over fifty confirmed kills already… Why isn't he in FOX-HOUND? She kept the thought to herself, her mouth shut but her eyes betraying her awe.
The elevator doors closed, leaving behind fourteen dead or dying bodies.
More blood upon already bloodstained hands.
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The elevator ride up was silent, Garland looking calm while the young woman seemed uncomfortable, as if her mind was muddled with many thoughts.
"Something wrong?" Durev's bass voice caused her to jump.
"Err… no. I-I'm ok."
"You sure? You look like you have a lot on your mind."
"More than you realize…" she said, quietly to herself.
"I see. I'll leave you alone, then."
Needless to say, she was amazed that he was able to hear her whisper so low.
As he stepped out the elevator when it reached the tank room, she called out to him,
"Durev! Wait."
"Hmm?" he turned to face her.
"What was that, downstairs? You timed that shotgun so well, you became a blur and struck those men with great force, and I thought I saw your fist on fire. What was that?"
"I think I'll answer those in opposite order. I'm currently an unofficial master of Jeet Kune Do, as well as numerous other styles. I've put myself on a very strict and grueling training program, pushing my body to the limits and beyond. What you saw was my chi encasing itself around my fist to strengthen the attack—I call it "Demon Hand." The training program not only boosts my strength, but my speed as well. I've been able to utilize short but incredibly fast dashes, "Bolt Dashes", if you will, to dodge attacks, close distances, stuff like that. I see everything in slow motion, as a side effect. The sixth sense is a side effect of extensive training, experience, a sharp eye, and a quick mind. I'm not only a mercenary, but I have a Master's Degree in modern biology, including post-Second Impact biology."
"…Wow. Why are you telling me all this?"
He shrugged, and began walking to the garage doors that lead to the snowfield.
"I trust you. Don't ask why, I'm pretty good at judging people. By the way, how did you get into FOX-HOUND? Most members have some sort of unique ability or skill," the large garage doors opened slowly, revealing an empty passage.
"It…it's the reason why I have stuff on my mind right now. Currently, I'm hearing the last thoughts and visions of the men you killed."
"Whoa. ESP?"
"No… Necromancy. I can speak to and hear the dead, as well as summon them momentarily."
"That's a nifty skill. I'll have to ask you to call my parents… they died during Second Impact," he snapped on his thermal imaging goggles, scrutinizing the hall.
"Many people did. I still remember all the cries and screams of the dying…"
"I'm sorry. You must be very sensitive to it."
"Only to large concentrations of death, such as recently."
Though she couldn't see it, Maggie was sure Garland had winced.
"Is that why you aimed for neutralizing shots?"
"You knew?"
"They did scream loud, rather than a death gurgle."
"They don't deserve death. None of these men and women do."
"What's your mission, anyway?"
"That's confidentiAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!"
Garland had grabbed the young woman and cradled her in his arms, while jumping quite suddenly into the hall. He flipped over the first laser Whoa!, kicked off the wall to dodge the second Yow!, slid under the third Eek!, and dove and rolled past the fourth and fifth laser Holy crap!. The final laser was bypassed when Garland tossed Maggie into the air to sail over the laser, while he slid under the beam Yaaaa!.
"Idiot! Next time, warn me before you do something that dangerous!" she bonked him on the head.
"Sorry, didn't have time to tell you, or I would have missed my window."
"Whatever."
The second garage door opened, letting in the artic winds. It had stopped snowing, the moon shining brightly against a starry night. The lack of light pollution allowed the two soldiers to see the night sky perfectly. A gust of subzero temperature wind blasted past them.
Maggie shivered in the cold,
"Damn it. They took my artic gear back at REX's nest! This BDU doesn't do much for cold weather," she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, while bringing her body closer together.
Durev stood serenely in the cold; his combat suit's layers of super-thinsulate did wonders in retaining body heat. His ears and nose were freezing though, but he could ignore that. He looked down at the shaking girl, then back into the tank room.
"…Let's head back. I'll find you a winter suit for you, and you can change in a heated room."
"What? But what about—"
"The lasers? We'll just walk under them as they pass by."
"Then what about those fancy acrobatics?"
He shrugged, "I was impatient, and felt like showing off."
Ignoring her glare, he took her hand to guide her back into the tank room.
"So where are you going to get me a winter suit?"
"There's a bunch of dead bodies outside. We just need a parka, so we'll borrow one from a corpse."
The necromancer did not say anything when they walked to the helipad, and wordlessly accepted a white parka Garland had pulled off a body. She was sad, seeing and feeling all this death. Their doom bringer was Garland Durev, the very same man that had rescued her and now worried for her safety. Her thoughts and feelings were mixed: he was polite, kind, and thoughtful, and yet he was also a ruthless mercenary that had been paid to kill everyone on the island… A burden or a boon, was his presence?
The girl didn't have time to finish the thought, as her head suddenly exploded with piercing pain. She gasped as she felt her head blow up in the worst pain she ever felt. Her powers allowed her to hear a gut-wrenching moan echo loudly throughout the area. Malicious and dark thoughts filled her very being, as her headache doubled in strength. Dropping to her knees, the FOX-HOUND agent dropped her rifle and gripped her head, crying softly out in pain.
"Miss Thompson! What's wrong?!" Garland was immediately by her side, holding her shoulders and looking intently into her tightly shut eyes.
"W-w-wraith! Evil spirit here…so strong! He wants to kill the both of us so badly!" she gasped out, tears now forming from the incredible pain and discomfort.
"Who? Who is the evil spirit?" his voice was calm and soothing.
"I don't know—it's coming from over there!" Maggie managed to point to the balcony, where an empty Stinger launcher leaned against the rail.
"Parris…"
"Ahh! It hurts! My head… so powerful!"
"What?"
Suddenly, Garland found the young woman in his arms, hugging him tightly.
"Make it go away," she whispered, barely heard over the wind.
"I…"
"Please," she buried herself deeper into the mercenary's embrace, finding comfort in the larger man's arms.
"Alright," tentatively, Garland wrapped his arms around the frightened girl.
He failed to see the smirk adorning her face. Slowly, the girl pulled a knife from its sheath. Gently, so that its owner would not feel the weapon being drawn.
But Durev did feel it, and the moment the knife was free, he jumped out of the deadly embrace, barely dodging a stab to the kidneys.
"Thompson?! What the hell?!" Why had this woman suddenly attack him after luring him into her embrace, and with his own blade even?
"RAAAAUGH!" a guttural roar came from the necromancer's throat, as her small body tackled a surprised Durev the moment he landed, knocking him onto his back. Wrapping her hands around his throat, the deranged girl began to squeeze with superhuman strength.
"Damnit, girl!" he managed to get out has he tried to pry her hands off his neck.
"Stupid mercenary dog! I'll kill you!" her voice sounded different from her usual melodious alto. It was harsher, with a deeper and throatier tone. Her eyes no longer had that soft green-blue color, having a darker and malicious black shade to it.
Parris?! Durev stuck his arms between Maggie's, and pushed outward. As her arms were knocked away, a double open palm blow pushed her entire body back to her stomach. It did not hurt much, as it was more of a pushing force than attack. Jumping to his feet, he faced the girl getting off the ground.
Damn. Can't hurt her… Garland unsnapped the latches and clips that connected his gauntlets to his combat suit, and let the armored handguards fall. The weapons hitting the ground with a heavy thud, the martial artist flexed his naked hands several times as he waited for the attack.
Rushing towards him came a possessed girl, her attack lacking elegance and finesse, but packing raw power, at least, as much power as her 5'4" frame could provide. Wild punches and claws stuck air or were deflected easily, Garland appearing as if he was dancing around the girl. She was like a raging fire, uncontrollable and feral, whereas Garland was like a flowing river, graceful yet forceful.
Tai Chi Chuan, while primarily used as a relaxation and meditation art, was also excellent in defense. Deadly blows could be pushed aside easily or dodged with a simple flick of the wrist or twist of the body. Maggie's attacks were rendered ineffective by that impregnable defense.
"Thompson! Get a hold of yourself!" he yelled out as he dodged a knife slash.
Maggie stabbed forward, placing all her body weight into the thrust. Although powerful, and Garland's knife a deadly weapon, it lacked balance and coordination. So as she zipped by, she was thrown off balance by a simple nudge, and the girl went tumbling down. As the veteran combat specialist waited for Maggie to get back up, he was thinking of a way to incapacitate her. How could he get that ghost out, lacking the proper tools for an exorcism? He needed a priest, or maybe the Ghostbusters. Angry spirits and ghosts were way over his head, something Garland never experienced until now.
The FOX-HOUND commando charged blindly again, only to have her arm grabbed and flipped over Garland's extended knee.
"Damn it," he cursed. His hands were getting numb very quickly—his gauntlets were also insulation to the cold, and completed the barrier from the gusting winds. Already he could feel the icy air crawl up the sleeves of his suit. "Better end this now…"
The stubborn female soldier shakily stood up, tired and hurting from the former Special Forces soldier's counters and throws. Most likely, the next strike would render her unconscious. But what of Parris' ghost? Would he stay in her body after she lapses into unconsciousness? Or would he stay, taking her mind and body forever?
He wasn't able to answer his question, as Maggie attacked again, still sloppy and blind with rage. Sidestepping her initial attack, Garland grabbed her weaponless left arm and pulled her close. Before the ghost could force the body into action, large cold hands wrap around her neck, and forcibly pushed back and down. Garland had pulled most of his power in the throw, but left enough to knock the air out of the smaller woman and possible knock her out. Slamming into the ground by her shoulders and head, Thompson's crazed rage faded into unconsciousness.
Fearing he had used too much strength, the mercenary dropped to one knee and checked her vitals. Strong pulse, although tachycardic; expected, because the girl had exerted herself. Still breathing too, just gulping air rather than slow natural breaths. He was about to scoop her up into his arms when a sudden and severe feeling of nausea overwhelmed his senses; the need to puke was overpowering, and the sick back flips of his stomach did little to calm his queasiness. A chill penetrated him to his core, as if his suit had suddenly become useless in the arctic weather. He had the mother of all headaches as well, feeling as if something was being forcibly jammed into his mind. Emotions of hatred and anger invaded his thoughts, as the urge to kill and well-known tinge of wanting revenge crept into his mind. So surprised and weighed down by these abrupt feelings that he nearly succumbed to the approaching darkness.
That is, until another voice appeared, a great howl from within his very soul. A voice that he was familiar with yet still remains a mystery. A dark and malevolent tone, one that would terrify anyone that heard it.
YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!
BEGONE!
And as if a piece of him was ripped away, a shrieking thought disappeared, as well as the nausea, coldness, and headache. His senses cleared gradually, as the near possession was driven away by something within the martial artist's soul. Shaking his head to clear away the residual discomfort, Garland retrieved his gauntlets and scooped up the out cold girl.
He brought her inside, where they could warm up a bit.
"…Damn it. When is she going to wake up? No time to wait for her," he muttered as he checked his watch. Sixteen hours remained, and he still had more than three-fourths of the facility to explore. With nothing to do until the Special Forces girl woke up, he sat down next to her and started a meal. Feeling a bit peckish himself, he rummaged through the pouches along his belt for some rations, until he came about a half-foot long roll of aluminum foil.
Ahh… the turkey club he had been saving. Excellent. Amazing that it survived more than three combat situations, a dunking into Alaskan waters, and icy winds. The bacon wasn't even frozen! Mmm… bacon…
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***Thompson's mind, during the fight***
"Ahh! My head… so powerful!"
Stupid mercenary, I will kill him!
Who… who are you?
Shut up, FOX-HOUND bitch. I will use your body to kill this man!
What?! No! I won't let you!
How do you propose on stopping me, little girl? I've already invaded your mind, soon I will take your body!
Don't underestimate me, spirit, I'm a—
Oh, I know all about you, Maggie D. Thompson. Height: 5'4", weight: 99 pounds, blood type AB positive. Born on August 29, 1980. Your mother and father, while loving, could not spend much time with you because of their careers. You were so sad and lonely, until you discovered your rather unique ability of necromancy! Suddenly, you were not alone anymore. You could speak with ghosts and spirits, even call some back from the afterlife. Yet not all spirits were kind. One particular ghost tried to rape your mind, and then your body. He was repelled when your nanny came in to check on your screaming. She saw nothing and so scolded and beat you for fooling around. Your life continued until both your parents went overseas to Germany… Stop! I don't want to her this anymore!
They died during a terrorist attack, their bodies riddled with bullets. The KSK Special Forces were unable to save them, as they were the first to die. You saw them, on TV as they were executed on their knees. You saw their tears, the fear and terror on their faces, and how they remained that way after five terrorists fired their AKs on full-auto. And yet, you felt sorry for the terrorists, as they were repressed for so long, living in hardship and poverty. With nothing left for, the military was your next step, which leads up to you joining FOX-HOUND. No one understood why a pathetic little soldier girl like you could have joined the ranks of FOX-HOUND, so you were ignored and shunned by the members. Now, you are here, captured by Genome soldiers then rescued by a mysterious mercenary, Garland Durev. Ahh… so you find him cute, yet frightening.
Shut up! Get out of my mind!
These memories, feelings, how they're all opened to me now. First your mind falls, then your body.
Stop it! STOP IT!
Images and memories flooded her being, forcing her to relive the pain and agony of her youth. The barrage never stopped, her psyche unable to handle the entire mental trauma. Suddenly, she saw the phantom in front of her, a severely burnt face twisted in revulsion and rage. A blackened grin adorned his face, while two equally scorched hands wrapped themselves around her head, the entity coming closer and closer, until they became one.
Now…to kill Garland Durev
Though she could still see, feel, and hear, the necromancer could not control her body, as if she were a puppet. With horror filled eyes she watched herself draw in the concerned man into her arms, and she felt her hand closing around the knife at Garland's back.
Garland…I'm so sorry…
Elation filled her corner of her mind as the mercenary jumped out from her body's grasp, avoiding the knife attack. The young woman became worried when she saw the gauntlets fall off, but she knew the damage the metal gloves could do. She had a frown for every attack she made, a smile for every counter, and a grimace because she could feel the pain of falling down. Hard. The pain and throws did their job, as exhaustion from the wild and energy-wasting charges were quickly draining what energy her body had left. As she felt his hand wrap around her neck and push her down, she smiled inwardly. Garland had done everything to prevent injury to himself and to her. This would be the strike that knocks her unconscious. Hitting the ground with such force that her vision swam and all the air in her lungs forced out, she barely felt the supernatural entity leave her being. Now free of the possession and her body returned, she whispered in her mind with heartfelt gratitude.
Thank you…
Darkness enveloped her vision.
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A moan escaped Maggie Thompson's lips as she came to, her head still reeling from the ghost attacking her. Warm and comfortable, the only that retracted from her current position was the unfamiliar surroundings. Her blurry vision immediately locked on to the closest object, a large dark shape. What was, she didn't know, but something tasty smelling wafted from its direction. Actually, it wasn't that great of a scent, but she had not eaten in several days, so anything remotely close to food was appetizing.
"Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling?" a deep dark voice emanated from the dark shape.
That's right, she was at Shadow Moses, with a mercenary named Garland Durev…
"I'm alright. Killer headache though. Pretty hungry too."
"You're in luck! I have some food cooking—it should be done soon. Tell me, hot or cold?"
"I don't care, just give me anything. I'll take anything…wow."
A six-inch roast turkey BLT on whole wheat was suddenly thrust in front of her. Despite the weather and beating, the lettuce and tomato still looked fresh, the turkey moist, the cheese good, and the bacon crisp.
"Take it. You need it more than I do. I got some grunt food for myself."
"Grunt food? Ugh." Her response was not surprising. Grunt food was something everyone learned in survival school, that is, a meal by mixing everything you got together into a single slop. Good taste not guaranteed.
"Yeah. But it's energy. Ahh, it's ready," he picked up a plate of… something, and took a bite. Garland didn't visibly flinch, but his taste buds and stomach swore to kill him with indigestion. The combined flavors of orange juice, barbeque chicken, pineapples, tea, cookie dough, and garlic mashed potatoes (for texture) did not bode well with his palate.
"Good?" Maggie asked as she took a bite of the turkey club. Mmm…bacon…
"I've had better. Want a taste?" the plate with the offensive foodstuffs was held in front of her.
"No, thank you. I'll take the sandwich."
"Suit youself."
…
…
An awkward silence ensued. At least, awkward for Maggie. The mercenary looked peaceful and content with his grunt food. She had to say something.
"Garland?"
"Yes, Miss Thompson?"
"You can call me Maggie, you know."
"But it's so… familiar. I'm a complete stranger to you."
"Am I a stranger to you?"
"No, I trust you. You're calling me by my first name, after all."
"Then call me Maggie! I dislike being called by my last name."
"Very well, Miss Thompson."
"Arrgh. You make me feel old! I'm only 26!"
"Sorry. Force of habit."
"Then break that habit!"
"It's difficult."
"It can't be THAT difficult."
"Yes it can."
"No it can't."
"Yes it can."
"NO IT CAN'T!"
"…"
"…"
"…Yes it can."
"My God. I've never met anyone so stubborn."
"Nyah."
"What was that?"
"In the end, we are children at heart."
"You calling me a kid?!"
"Oh, yes. I'm telling a young woman a few years younger than me that she is a kid. Wonderful tact I possess."
"I sense sarcasm."
"Wow, you got ESP too?"
"Fucker."
"Nyah."
"Nyah, back at you."
"Madam! You hurt me so!" Garland's arms were waving around dramatically, the plate of food nearly spilling.
"So it's madam now?! Jesus, now I feel like I'm 70!"
"Heh heh. Come now, no need to be dramatic."
"…"
"Did I go too far? My apologies, Miss Thompson."
"Maggie, God damn it."
"Of course…"
"C'mon, let's hear you say it."
"Can't. Eating," more the disgusting slop was shoveled into Garland's mouth.
"Ugh. Remind me never to ki—" she stopped short.
"Urmph?"
"…AAAHHH-CHOO!" somehow, the sneeze seemed forced.
"Blrush ouu…"
"Don't talk with your mouth full!"
He swallowed, albeit hesitantly. "Sorry."
"As you should be."
"My, aren't we just high and mighty today?"
"Shut up."
"Nyah."
"You done with your food?"
"Yes…?"
"Good."
With that, she tackled him.
And started beating him with a conveniently placed wooden stick.
"Ouch! Hey quit it! Ow ow ow! Stop! Owww! Not the head! Owie!"
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A/N: Well. That one's over with. I'm thinking that this story will continue on for two to four more chapters, depending what my messed up mind can think up. I got finals all this week, so I doubt I'll get much work done. Oh yeah, I'm also making a swords-and-sorcery type fanfic, most likely to be posted at fictionpress.com rather than here. See you around guys.