Disclaimer: See the foreword.

Author's Babble: I'm really sorry this took so long. It was more work than I expected, and a lot of stuff is going on in real life that's slowing me down. I made the chapter a bit longer than usual to compensate. Nothing else to say but read and review.

Metal Gear: Bloody Hands

Written by Tempest Dynasty

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Chapter 7: Dangerous Lives

An icy blast of cold air rushed into the heated room as the door slid open. Mercenary and Special Forces operator stepped through the threshold to enter a dark, bone-chillingly cold glacier populated with several wolf dog hybrids. Other than the danger of being mauled by the animals, all they needed to do was get to the other side—easier said than done when it was dark enough to require night vision goggles and you had to crawl on your stomach to get through. Luckily, Garland's "ODIN" headset was still intact, so he could easily see with either night vision or thermal vision.

"Damn it, I can't see a thing!" Thompson complained as she peered into the dark.

"I'm seeing everything just fine," Durev said with a grin.

"Oh shut up."

"Looks like I'm guide again."

"Whatever. Just lead, damn… it…" she trailed off as something caught her attention, something dark, yet light; evil, yet good; haunted, yet satisfied. Even in the darkness her necromancer abilities gave her an extra sense in finding a spirit. There, in the corner, surrounded by ice and rock; a dead man, but well preserved by the temperature and the material he had been wrapped in. A quick delve into the area brought back foggy scenes of battle. Two men, one with a gray-blue thermal sneaking suit that FOX-HOUND used in artic missions (Maggie wondered why they didn't issue her a suit like that), the other in a skin-tight leather-like body suit that left his shoulders and upper arms exposed, as well as his head, but his face was covered by something; it appeared to be a gas mask. On the ground lay a young woman with fiery hair, a temporary FOX-HOUND tattoo, and a .50AE Desert Eagle magnum handgun on the ground next to her. The two men were locked in combat, a battle of wills and psyches. In the end, the spy had won.

Yes, this was one of them: the former world's most powerful practitioner of telepathy and psychokinesis, the Dream Robber, Psycho Mantis.

With a quick motion of her hand, she placed a very small device upon the ice. It was a beacon transmitter, delivering an encrypted signal to her HQ that told them of the device's location. She made it look like she was using the rock wall for support, making the placement as subtle as possible. Fortunately, Garland was looking away from her, more intent on finding an exit from the glacier. Even if he had been looking at her, the night vision would not have picked up the blurry and obscured corpse of the former FOX-HOUND operative, and the body would have been so cold thermal vision would not pick it up.

She sighed quietly, thankful that a part of her mission was finally complete. There may be more bodies to find, but at least she would not return empty-handed. The soft padding of small feet alerted her to another presence, most likely the wolf dogs that inhabited the area.

With an angry bark, one of the larger animals lunged at Garland, its hungry jaws aiming for the mercenary's neck.

Garland grunted as the animal's tackle and weight caught him by surprise, pushing him off balance and onto the icy wet floor. He could easily hold off the grasping bites and lunges of this particular wolf dog, but more may be joining the party soon. If there were anything that could defeat a martial artist, one of them would be overwhelming numbers attacking at the same time.

"Piss off!" he hissed at the creature while whipping out his pistol. A quick double tap sent two 9mm "shredder" rounds into the dog's face, killing it instantly. Throwing the corpse off of him, he got up to see the shocked face of his ally.

"You… you just…" she stammered.

"Stow it. It was the dogs or me; which would you prefer?"

"The dogs. They're not as ruthless or cruel as you," she spat. Obviously, she was a dog lover of sorts.

Ouch.

"I see. Come; let's continue. I see a hole at the bottom of the wall—we'll have to crawl to get through," he dropped to his stomach and pulled himself through the opening. Immediately after he was halfway through, a second wolf dog clamped its jaws around Garland's armored gauntlet.

"Aaagh!" he cried out in surprise, and tried to wrestle his arm out of the dog's maw.

"Hmm… looks like you're having some problems, merc," spoke a feminine alto above him. She was around already?!

"How…?" his attention was diverted to the commando before him.

"There's a hole in the wall near the commander's room entrance. It's too big for you to fit through, but I'm small enough," Maggie grinned as she stepped by. "I'll be waiting for you at the door. Don't hurt anymore dogs now, you hear?"

"Damn it!" Garland grunted out as a third dog came around and bit down on his other gauntlet, and began pulling the opposite direction of the second dog. How was he going to get out of this mess without injuring these stupid animals?!

…

…

…

"Screw it," the mercenary muttered as he brought his arms together, smashing the dogs against each other. With a yelp of pain, the animals released their grip on the mercenary, giving him time to pull out of the hole and sprint to the next. Rather than crawling, Garland opted to dive instead, sliding rather roughly across the snowy ice. Another bark greeted him, and as he jumped up to prepare a strike, the soldier-for-hire blinked in surprise. Unlike the previous wolf dogs, this fourth one was a puppy, and did little but bark and growl.

"So you're resorting to beating up puppies, merc?" she smirked, but without the usual softness or playfulness.

"Um… I uh…"

"Whatever. Let's go."

Colder than ice... ouch.

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The moment Garland and Maggie stepped into the long underground tunnel they were assaulted by a flash of light. Unlike the dark and clammy glacier, the tunnel was well illuminated by rows of florescent lights. Garland's "ODIN" goggles had automatically shut off at the sudden influx of bright light, leaving him with a black screen. Although the room was already cold from the local climate, the mercenary could not shake the feeling of dread welling up in his chest.

"I have a bad feeling about this…" he muttered as he tried to focus his vision down the path.

"Ah! So the mercenary has feelings now? He appears to be more human than ever before!" mocked the younger commando next to him.

"Look, what the hell is your problem? Is it that big of a deal that I shot that dog?" Garland whirled to face her, gray-blue eyes flashing in the light.

She looked back at him with equal intensity, "Not just the dogs. Those men you've been killing ever since you got here!"

"What the hell is this about? Because it's my job to clean out this island?"

"It's a choice! You can choose not to kill these people!"

"Damn it, girl. This is not the time for ethics or morals! Both of us are in enemy territory. They will shoot us without remorse, and then boast about it until later American black ops come through and clean it out in its entirety!"

"Shut up! You're doing this for the money; I know it. Killing without remorse is your specialty, not these men and women stuck here for a year already!"

"Will you stop it with the insults?! It's bad enough I'm always reminded of the things I've done. I don't need another person to rub it in for me, especially not some pacifistic wench that works for an assassination squad."

"Wha?"

"Every night I dream of the people I've killed, their blood splashing onto my uniform. The life fluid of countless men and women forever stains my hands; their faces haunt my vision and their terrified screams echo constantly in my ears. There is a demon inside of me, one that relishes violence and death. A monster of relentless anger and hatred, his hands are my own, the blood he spills I smell and taste.

"There is nothing else in this world I can do right but kill. FOX-HOUND should know this better than anyone, as they are basically an overly glorified death squad consisting of masters of killing. How can you, a FOX-HOUND commando, deny that you've ever killed a person that was not in self defense? I've seen you fight, not half bad considering your ideals. What's your confirmed kill count? Twenty? Thirty?"

"…Sixty-seven," she whispered.

"HA!" Garland barked out a laugh. "Four hundred, seventy-two confirmed kills. I have many more unconfirmed kills as well. Though I outscore you considerably, you have as much blood staining your soul as I do. Do not call me a murderer, because we all are."

A dead silence split the air, so quiet that it deafened the two soldiers to the rest of the world.

"Let's go. You need to finish your mission, and I mine. Enough of this crap," Garland had quickly calmed down and used his soft voice, but it no longer had that soothing quality to it. Quietly nodding, Maggie stepped forward to take point again.

They had walked several feet before Garland grabbed Maggie and threw her to the side, placing her behind a corner and into cover.

"Son of a bitch!" the girl cried as she landed hard against the wall, surprised by the sudden action. Her FA-MAS was in her hands at the time, and she had dropped it when she got pushed. She could only watch in horror as her rifle suddenly exploded in a burst of torn metal.

"Son of a bitch!" Garland shouted as he twisted his body in an attempt to dodge a rather large and heavy bullet zipping by. It impacted on the door behind him.

"Son of a bitch!" cursed a man behind a 14.5x114mm NTW-20 anti-materiel rifle. He recovered his sights, loaded a round, and squeezed the trigger once again.

A second anti-tank round rocketed down the range, heading straight for the male's chest. If it impacted, it would easily tear through armor, bone, flesh, and exit out of the back, leaving either a gigantic hole in the abdomin or rip him in half.

The man cursed again—that mercenary was dodging the damn bullets! How the hell do you dodge a Russian 14.5mm round?! The bullet had a muzzle velocity of 1000 meters a second, with over 31000 joules of kinetic energy in it!

(---A/N: For those who don't know, it basically means it's really freakin' fast, and hits REALLY freakin' hard. The average M-16 has a muzzle velocity of 975 meters a second with about 1700 joules of energy---)

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In Garland's eyes and mind, everything seemed to slow down. He could see the muzzle flash, the distortion in the air as the huge bullet tore through the air, and he could tell where the projectile would go. Although his movements seemed sluggish, it was simply an optical illusion—his body could simply not move as fast as his mind reacted, a common issue with combat-hardened and instinctive senses. At the same time, his "danger sense" was screaming at him where the bullet might impact, and moved his body accordingly.

The first bullet zipped through the space Maggie had previously occupied, ripping through her French weapon and continuing into a heavy metal door. Garland had to shift slightly backwards to avoid the shower of flak. Air pressure and the wake created by the bullet pulled at his suit sharply—had it not been for his suit, the sheer vacuum created by the round would have ripped his flesh to ribbons. The shift slid into a full backwards lean, avoiding an anti-tank round that would have ventilated his chest. The lean transformed into a back flip as a third shot pierced the air, sailing harmlessly through the space Garland was in moments before. The maneuver brought him behind cover, opposite of Maggie. During the brief "dance," Garland had managed to pinpoint the sniper's location using the vapor trail left behind by the huge bullet.

"You doing alright?" he asked, not even fazed by the two attempts on his life.

"What the hell was that? Sniper?" she asked back, still bewildered at the sudden change.

"Yeah, with a huge rifle, most likely anti-materiel. I think he's reloading now," the mercenary said as he brought out a mirror-on-a-stick. Though it would be ineffective in this situation, he was curious as to…

BAM! The mirror instantly became dust the moment he stuck it out. Yep, the sniper was a decent long-rifleman, and he was waiting for them.

"Jesus, that guy wants us badly…"

"He's probably with another guy, a spotter for him. We'll have to disorient them," Garland searched through his collection of grenades. "Ah, I got a few! Odd colors though." Indeed, in his hands were three cylindrical grenades, each of them capable of spewing out a thick opaque cloud of colored smoke. These three grenades would spit out yellow, cyan, and magenta, respectively. He pulled the pins on each grenade and threw them at different distances, one close by, the second around the middle of the path, and one near the end. The last two grenades were problematic to deploy, since each time he threw them out, a bullet whizzed by in retort.

"What the hell are you gonna use them for? Cover? You don't even have a sniper rifle!"

Garland's M8 rifle suddenly appeared in her arms, "You provide sniper cover—that scope is 3.5x. I'm heading in."

"But that's crazy! You'll get blown to bits running down there, even with smoke cover!"

"I'll be fine. Besides, who would care about what happens to the heartless mercenary?" a bitter grin adorned his face as he waited for the smoke to build a bit. When the clouds of multi-colored smoke reached a reasonable thickness and size, he flipped out and tore down the path.

"Argh. Crazy merc, he's gonna get himself killed!" Maggie said to herself, but brought the rifle up and peered through the sight. Although it was not powerful enough to get a good shot, it gave her a better view of the second floor. She fired off several shots, more for suppressive fire than precise shooting.

------------------------

"Damn that mercenary! Where the hell is he?" the sniper grunted as he searched through his scope. His partner was equally confused, having abandoned his binoculars for good ol' naked eyes.

"He's coming this way, I know it! Just fire into the smoke!" the spotter said as he raised his FA-MAS for a full-auto burst. He was unable to when return fire came tearing through the air around him. Suppressive fire it may be, there was still a chance for a bullet to hit him. As a result, both Genome soldiers scrambled for cover.

Just as they recovered from the initial spray, a blur flew over the railing and landed several feet in front of them. Their looks of shock turned into looks of absolute fear as they took in the new arrival. Crouching before them, ready to spring into action, was the mercenary. A look of sadistic glee was on his face; the Genomes had very little time to react before he pounced on them. One was thrown off the second floor, landing face first into the cold concrete floor. The second man, the sniper, was subjected to a single blow. While the mercenary's back was facing him, he was slammed by a double elbow smash. So much force was in the blow that a crater was formed in the metal and rock wall. Soon to die from severe blunt trauma and a broken back, the sniper did nothing but gurgle in pain.

As the spotter lay on the ground, trying to regain his bearings, a huge weight suddenly crushed his back, squeezing all the air from his lungs and shattering several ribs. No doubt his spine was ruined as well, the Next Generation Special Forces member welcomed the darkness that accompanied the bullet piercing the back of his skill. At last, he was free…

After the smoke cleared away, Maggie met up with Garland at the staircase next to the security door. He was sitting on the third to last step, staring listlessly onto the ground. Though he was not injured, he appeared to be in shock.

"…Garland? Are you alright?" she asked.

"Guess what? I killed two more guys. One's right there," he gestured to a corpse. "The other is upstairs, embedded in the wall."

"Ah. I see."

"Shall we go, ma'am? There are still two towers to get past, and we must still infiltrate REX's chamber. We're on a time limit, aren't we?

"…Yeah… Let's go," she responded with a small voice. Although Garland hid it very well, Maggie could still see that he was holding back a calm anger.

------------------------

Haa… haa… haa… haaaah

Her breath was slowly catching up to her. Although she prided herself at her level of fitness, climbing so many stairs took a lot out of her.

"Are we there yet?" Maggie managed to gasp out as she leaned against the cold tower wall.

"Almost. There's a few more stories, then we'll be at the top," Garland responded evenly. The guy did not even look to be tired, his breaths slow and even, and his heart rate was still brachycardic (slower than average heartbeat; common in athletes).

"You're not even tired, at all?" she said with disbelief.

"I run a lot for training. My stamina's pretty high," the mercenary shrugged. "You done resting yet? We still have another tower to climb down."

"Yeah, yeah. Give me one more minute, then we'll go," Maggie sucked in several more lungfuls of air.

Several seconds past in silence, until Garland spoke up,

"Do we even have a rope to rappel or climb down on?"

"…We realize this NOW?!" the girl snarled at him.

"Considering I am not familiar with this facility, I was hoping you had planned for this."

"Well, I don't have a rope on me. I doubt you would have a coil either."

"Actually, I do," he reached into the small rucksack he had on his back, barely visible but evident. "I have a one-hundred foot coil of super-high strength fiberwire, strong enough to hold three people including myself. My suit can double for a harness, so you just need to hold on to me."

"I don't know if I should hate you or love you."

"Hate me, love me; do as you wish. After all, I'm no better than the dogs that I killed. In fact, I think I'm worse."

Garland missed her wince, since her hair blocked a portion of her face.

"…Alright. I'm ready.

When they finally reached the top, few words were exchanged as Garland set up his rappel system and began the climb down the tower wall. Maggie held onto him by wrapping her arms around the mercenary's broad shoulders and neck, hanging on tightly for fear of falling. Cold winds whipped by as they slowly descended in silence, the harsh hiss of escaping steam and water vapor from the tower's pipes was the only sound other than whistling winds.

Thirty feet above the connecting bridge however, more obstacles got in the way.

Several assault rifles clacked up in ready, taking a moment to aim before releasing several bursts of hot lead.

Bullets pinged off the pipes and wall around Garland and Maggie, sending them into a slight panic.

"Damn it! There're guys down there…!" Garland yelled out as he locked his rope into place and rotated to face the danger. "Move your legs and curl up!"

Maggie's legs suddenly wrapped themselves around Garland's waist, but he was too busy to notice. Bringing his arms and legs up while ducking his head down, his gauntlets and boots made a rather effective bullet shield, protecting a good majority of the two of them..

"Shoot back!" Thompson's muffied cry could be barely head over the pinging of bullets.

"I can't! My hands are full! Get your pistol and take them out!"

"But—"

"But nothing! You shoot or the two of us die! If you hadn't noticed, I'm your shield here!" Garland snarled as several rifle rounds bounced off the gauntlets. Although the bullets could not pierce the armor, as it was made of a rather strong material, the transfer of energy was still relatively painful. It felt like paintballs being fired at close-range, but at least it never got through. He could barely hear over the screaming winds, the gunfire, and the pinging shots, but he heard the girl hanging on to him draw her pistol and cock it. Several suppressed shots spat out, but Garland could not see their effectiveness.

"I can't hit them! They're too far away to aim right!" Maggie hissed into his ear.

"Alright, we'll do this the hard way. Disconnect the rope—we're going down. Don't argue with me! Just do it."

She did not say anything, but placed her trust in him, and detached the harness.

Thirty feet they dropped as bullets pinged off Garland's armor and the area around them. They slammed into the ground; the mercenary grunted as he landed on his feet. Normally, Garland would have rolled into the fall so as to absorb the fall, but with Maggie on his back, a roll would not be good. As a result, his legs and back took all the force of fall. Dropping back into the protective hunched position, the two soldiers were now closer two the gunfire. Through the snow swept winds and gunfire, Garland could see three soldiers, military rifles up to bear. If he was lucky, these guys would be inexperienced enough to not understand the concept of assisting fire, that is, covering your buddy while he reloads, and he does the same to you.

A lapse in the gunfire soon came, as all three of the soldiers dropped an empty clip and reached into their vests for a fresh clip.

"Now!" Garland shouted as he bolted forward, accelerating at awesome speeds to bring him (and Maggie) into close quarters combat. A fierce left hook sent one soldier over the railing, screaming as he fell. Moving with his momentum, a reverse right heel smashed the soldier in the middle onto his back. With one target left, a quick upward palm strike sent the nose bone into the brain, killing the man instantly. The second soldier was still alive, something that was swiftly remedied with a 9mm "shredder" round to the skull. And amidst all that, Maggie still held on strong.

"You can let go now. It's all on foot from here," his voice broke the trance the FOX-HOUND soldier didn't know she was in.

"Ah, yes. There's still the second tower, next is the snowfield…"

"We'll deal with things as they come. You're point, ma'am."

Maggie sighed as she got off the mercenary, once again taking lead. The mercenary had become distant, cold, detached from her. Was she being too harsh on him? Forcing her ideals on a professional soldier that has probably been doing his job much longer than she has, and with much more experience to his name, it seemed rather childish of her. Maybe she should…

A metal encased hand on her left shoulder stopped her thoughts and her movement.

"Wha…?"

"You were about to pass the elevator. Unless you want to hike down the stairs, I would suggest using the elevator," Durev's deep and dark voice sent chills down her spine. No longer did it hold the usual softness or warmth, but rather a bone-chilling indifference.

"Ah. Right," Maggie muttered as she stepped into the elevator compartment.

The ride down was in total silence, neither of the soldiers having anything significant to discuss. When they reached bottom floor, however, Maggie spoke up,

"Garland, wait a moment."

"Hmm?"

"I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't be forcing my beliefs and ideals on you. It's obvious you know what you're doing, and I shouldn't be tell you how to do things."

"What brought this on?"

"It's nothing. I just wanted to apologize…"

"Apology accepted, Maggie Thompson. I'm glad to hear that from you. Now, let us continue on," he was still rather distant from her, but his voice was much warmer compared to his previous tone.

There was more silence between them, but it was no longer of the awkward type.

------------------------

"I knew it. More snow. Great," Garland deadpanned as they stepped onto a large snowfield. The snow had worsened into a mild storm, and the falling flakes obscured visibility to around twenty feet.

"I don't like these places. Large open fields with reduced vision, it's easy to be a sniper target."

"Hmm… didn't Solid Snake have his final duel against Sniper Wolf here?"

"How did you know?"

He shrugged, "I read the book. I'm not totally lost here, just missing many details. Allow me to take point this time, since there's a danger of snipers."

"I can handle myself, thank you."

"Of course you can, but can you read the direction of a bullet and react in time to avoid it?"

Maggie did not respond, since she had experienced enough proof that Garland was more than capable of combating a long-rifleman. One thing did gain her attention. There was something here, a spirit, overwhelming with the satisfaction and content. Her necromantic powers gave her a brief vision of a memory, one that had this very snowfield as the setting. Much of it was through a black tunnel, with two intersecting lines meeting in the center. A rifle scope, no doubt, and it was centered upon a single man in dark clothes. It was the same man as Maggie saw in Psycho Mantis' dream-memory, Solid Snake.

So, Sniper Wolf's body must be nearby…

"Aaaugh!" a cry brought her out of the vision and back into the real world. Snapping her head to the direction of the outburst, the look of worry on her face immediately contorted into that of amusement and humor. A soft giggle escaped her lips as she watched the rather entertaining ambush upon a man she had believed to be nearly invincible.

A young, energetic, and cheerful wolf dog had successfully tackled Garland Durev to the ground.

"Ah ha, so the legendary Bloody Hands is defeated by a simple wolf dog once again," the girl teased as she walked away.

"Quiet you," Garland managed to grunt out as he struggled with the animal. Unlike the previous encounters with the hybrids, this particular creature had much more energy and strength. As a result he and the wolf dog rolled merrily in the snow covered fields as Maggie watched.

At least, that's what he thought she was doing. Although she was staring at them, Maggie had her mind elsewhere: finding the burial site. It was somewhere in this snowfield, she knew that much, but finding it in such a large area was much easier said than done.

…

…

…

There! The source of the emotions was strongest at the storage room to the left of that half-track. Approaching it under guise of exploration, she was dismayed to discover the security level of the door: level seven. Her card was only level six, and she was sure Garland had a level six card as well.

Damn it. At least the body was in there, so the beacon transmitter could be placed on the door. The black ops that would come later could break through with special tools.

There, another portion of her mission had been completed, and step closer to home…

A gasp escaped her lips as a burly arm wrapped itself around her neck, squeezing tightly to reduce airflow and keep her steady. A knife was pressed lightly against her neck, right up against the carotid artery. Maggie did not need to do anything to realize that she had been captured again. Where was Garland?

"Walk with me," a voice hissed into her ear, and pulled her into motion.

Garland had managed to throw off the vigorous wolf dog and got up to chase after the FOX-HOUND operative. He stopped in midstep as he discovered half a dozen rifles and shotguns pointing at him, manned by snow-covered Next Generation Special Forces commandos.

Damn it! They were hiding under the snow and waiting to ambush him! Where was Maggie? Did she get away?

The mercenary was about to blur into action with a Bolt Dash until two figures approached from his left. The white back of a soldier was approaching him slowly, and he was holding a small figure in his arms. A lock of short blonde-streaked brown hair fluttered in the wind.

Oh God. That was Maggie, and she was being held at knifepoint.

Durev bit back a curse. He could not do a single thing, lest he seriously endanger the life of his ally. The martial artist could not neutralize the seven enemy soldiers while protecting the girl at the same time, not even with his incredible combat skills. There was no choice. Garland raised his hands into the air to show compliance, sighing as he did so. Next to Maggie he could see what he believed to be an officer chatting with Maggie's capturer, discussing in tones too low for him to hear clearly.

The officer looked at the mercenary, back at the soldier, and finally one last look at the male captive. At the wave of his hand, the FOX-HOUND agent was taken away by the knife-wielder and a second shotgun-armed soldier, followed by the officer. Five men stood encircled around Garland, their weapons trained solely on the mercenary's head. The man holding Maggie was dragging her, so she could still see Garland being held captive. His eyes said goodbye for him, a final farewell as a loud rifle report echoed through the relatively empty snowfield.

Garland jerked as a sharp pain lanced through his chest, followed by a gout of blood and finally, an explosive flower as a 7.62x51mm armor piercing round tore through Garland's protective vest, ripped through his heart, and exited out the back.

He stood there for a moment, a look of shock etched upon his face as he slowly looked at the wound above his chest. His heart was shot, no doubt, and he would die very soon. His vision blurred and his body lost strength; lifeless gray-blue eyes glazed over as Garland dropped to the ground, first to his knees, then his body. Bright red blood pooled onto the snow, the warm fluid staining the white snow crimson.

Garland Durev died the moment he hit the ground.

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No… no, it can't be! He's dead. Oh God he's DEAD!

Maggie Thompson looked on in absolute horror as she witnessed Garland's execution, from the impact of the sniper's bullet to his final breath.

Speechless and numb from shock and terror, she allowed herself to be dragged away by her captors.

He's dead… after all he's done, he's dead. Dead, just like everyone else. Gone, never to speak to her ever again, never to gaze at her with those frighteningly beautiful gray-blue eyes, never to catch her the next time she fell.

Good bye, Garland…

I'm sorry I couldn't say…

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The five soldiers and a sniper shared a laugh as they sauntered away from the mercenary's corpse. They had finally gotten revenge on a man who had killed their friends, and now they got first dibs on that cute girl.

"Haha! Finally, now we can relax a bit with that bastard dead!" the first one chortled.

"Hell yeah! That was a great shot too. Did you see his face when he ate it? Kodak moment!" a second one agreed.

"Now, for some ass and food!" the third soldier shouted.

As the fourth and fifth soldier laughed in agreement, the sixth man did not respond. He couldn't, not with a metal hand suddenly embedding itself into his back. The sickening crunch was heard as his spine was shattered, and caused the other fighters to whip around in surprise.

He was lifted into the air slowly, blood slowly dripping from his back. The blood suddenly erupted everywhere violent as the horrible and revolting sound of tearing flesh replaced the bone crunch. The man didn't even get a chance to scream as he was ripped in half from head to crotch, a bloody wet and violent end for such an individual. As the two halves of the former man dropped to the ground with a wet splat, the remaining soldiers looked up to see the devil himself, drenched in the blood of their former comrade.

Let the bodies hit the floor…

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A/N: One down, about three more to go. I'm almost done with this, and with that, the beginning of my next line of work. What it is, you may ask? Wait for it. It may seem silly and weird because of the title, but trust me, it's got stuff everyone will like. Oh, did anyone catch the Red VS Blue tribute? If you did, you get a cookie. See you around folks.