Hey guys. I didn't intend for the last chapter to be so strange - it was a bit of a spur of the moment idea, and I guess I found it more amusing in my head lol. Regardless, I hope this continuation is a little more entertaining! If not, then don't worry, because there's only one more part after this and then I'm going to do another "arc". Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
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"Can someone please explain vhy I vas held at knifepoint by a lunatic?"
Medic grimaced and tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder, where Engineer was currently applying pressure. Ever since the strange woman had ran off into the base, the team had crowded around their injured doctor, yet only the Texan made a move to help. He held both hands over the bullet wound, bare one over his bloodstained gloves, frowning with furrowed eyebrows.
"Sorry, it was my fault," lamented Heavy, standing behind Engineer, eyes averted. "I was trying to help."
"Mercenaries don't help," barked Soldier, shoving his way past the rest of the team and sticking a finger in Heavy's face. Although the shorter of the two, he managed to make the Russian slink back a bit. "We shoot, decapitate, set on fire, bomb, berate, and possibly collect heads, but helping was not in the manual. You've doomed us all, maggot!"
"I agree with Soldier," nodded Sniper, crossing his arms as he glanced down at Medic. "We have a crazy person running around our base with delusions of grandeur." The Australian shook his head - all he wanted to do was drink his coffee, relax in his room on base, and maybe have a nice chat with his mum.
"Not just a crazy person," interrupted Spy, leaning against the hall wall. He ominously pushed off, and reached for a cigarette to light as his group members turned attention to him. The Frenchman took time to slowly brush his thumb down the lighter's wheel, having to do it twice as he let the tension grow in the hall.
"...well?" snapped Scout, one foot tapping against the floor. "You gonna go on or just stand there lookin' like a smug asshole."
"I believe-" Spy stopped to take a drag of the cigarette and blow out smoke. "We are being targeted."
"It's BLU, isn't it!" jumped Soldier, throwing his shovel up and nearly hitting Pyro across the head. Spy shook his head.
"Non. It is revenge..."
"Boy, you better hurry up with your revelation 'cause the doc's losing an awful lotta blood here."
"Don't mind me, I'll just be down here trying not to die."
"...revenge for the wolves."
All eyes were on Spy, and the only sound in the hall was the heater running from the basement.
"Revenge of the wolves? Is that a French thing?"
"The wolves," started Spy, sidling up to the group and tapping the edge of his cigarette off on a scowling Scout's shoulder, "that attacked us say...a week ago?" Realization slowly dawned across the rest of the mercenaries faces.
"I knew it!" blurted out Demo, one eye wide as he cradled his ever-present Scrumpy bottle. "When I saw that lass, I swear I got a crawling feelin' in me stomach. And not just 'cause she's mentally deficient."
"Mmphut mpht mphas mphelf mphnss," Pyro reasoned, hands together in worry, attention moving from Medic to Spy.
"I do not think crazy lady cares," responded Heavy, frowning in guilt. "We hurt her wolves. She is mad."
"Wait just a bloody second," interrupted Sniper, uncrossing his arms and moving past his coworkers to take center. "Are you telling me, those wolves I threw piss on, the ones that attacked us in the middle of a forest, had a mum?"
"Yes. A crazy one." Sniper stared at a casually smoking Spy, face blank.
"And now she's running around, doing God knows what to our base, because we killed some of her lunatic babies?"
"Yes. Crazily."
"Well ain't no big deal, fellas. We just gotta catch her and uh...send her on her way, I suppose. I don't think it'll be too hard.," reasoned Engineer, glancing down at the tight-lipped Medic. The hardhat slowly lifted his hands from the bleeding wound. "And look at that! Doc, I think the bleeding's better. See fellas, things ain't so bad."
Suddenly, the lights went out in the hall, and the sound of the heater running puttered out. Only a second later, the base's emergency lights came on, bathing the hall in red.
"Uh, what da hell? What's goin' on with the lights?" asked Scout, glancing overhead at the bulb in the wall above the infirmary. The light tapered off into darkness, only to be met with light from an equally distanced bulb. Without the hum of the heater, the hall sounded unnaturally quiet, and Scout's boyish voice seemed to echo.
"That witch must've messed around with the electricity usin' her black magic!" responded Demoman, backing into the hall wall and holding out his alcohol as if it were holy water.
"Or," started Spy, completely unperturbed by the light change," She pulled out some random wiring in the fusebox outside."
"I know black magic when I feel it!"
"Alright men!" barked up Soldier, stepping into the middle of the mercenary huddle. "Let's get armed and-"
"Woah, hang on there," interrupted Engineer, hands pushed firmly on Medic's wound. "Now, I hate to say it, but I'm not sure this base's respawn system runs on the emergency generator." Just as everyone opened their mouth to complain, Engineer held up his bare hand, now peppered with blood, to silence them.
"I know it's completely stupid, but I'm not sure and I need to check. So, I'd suggest we do this without weapons. We don't need someone dying before we can get the medigun on them, and we definitely do not want a coupla' new holes in the roof," explained the Texan, shooting a look at Soldier and Demo at the latter claim.
"Mmphy mphink mph mmic mphis mmying." Pyro pointed at the now pale doctor on the floor, who's eyes were wavering between open and close. The pyromaniac reached down to help Engineer lift the physician and lead him to the infirmary door.
"Pyro, you get the medigun on the doc. I'll go to the basement to check the generator. The rest of ya'll best go look for that lady," Engineer ordered, uncharacteristically taking the lead. Pyro nodded and pushed the door open, dragging a mumbling Medic at his side. Soldier appeared next to Engineer, shovel held stiffly at his side.
"I'm going with you, maggot," the patriot then glanced back at the rest of his men, "Crouton, you ghost around and see if you can catch the intruder. Boy, you go with the Irishman and check the north and east wings of the base. Commie and Bilbo Baggins got south and west. Are we clear?"
"Which one of us is Bilbo Baggins?"
"Okay then," ignored Soldier, pumping his shovel in the air. "Let's go catch this dirty civilian!"
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"Man, I am gonna waste this chick," Scout boasted, holding up his pistol. Although Engineer had been adamant about avoiding firearms, the Bostonian had the pistol at his hip and saw no point in not using it. Next to him, paranoid with shoulders hunched, was Demoman, his Scrumpy bottle as his only weapon, brandished like a sword.
"Dark things are afoot lad, don't ye feel it in the air?"the Scotsman whispered, knuckles white as he clenched the bottle's neck. Scout just rolled his eyes, bravely leading the two into the common room. It was a moderate size, with ratty couches and a small television set. A fire place was set in one wall, unlit and surrounded on both sides with two long windows that had curtains drawn. Bookcases lined the wall, but most were filled with little trinkets the group found around the base, or the standard Mann Co. instruction manuals. Just as the hall, this room too was bathed in red light from the emergency bulb above the doorway.
"Guess the Crazy Soup Wolf Bitch ain't here," mumbled Scout, fingers brushing the dust along the fire place's shelf. Demo stood at the doorway, eye moving from each dark corner of the room, feeling the hair on his neck stand up.
"Something ain't right, I swear on me-holy hell!" Demo jumped as a foot swept out from behind the curtains to trip Scout. In surprise, the young man pulled the trigger, firing into the ceiling. Another kick across his side sent him rolling into one of the couches, pistol sliding under the furniture.
"The end is near, human scum!" The Crazy Soup Wolf Bitch leapt onto the dazed Scout, literally clawing at his face.
"Agh, get 'er off!" screamed Scout, arms waving as he flailed underneath the blond woman. She was straddling his waist, holding him down with her weight as her nails dug into his skin.
"I'm comin' lad!" cried Demo, holding his trusty bottle up and rushing to the struggle on the ground. "Freeeedooooooom!"
The glass bottle shattered upon impact with Marisoo's head, alcohol coating her hair and shoulders. Immediately, the Crazy Soup Wolf Bitch let out a roar, swinging an arm around to backhand Demo. The Scotsman stumbled back in surprise, wondering why she was still up and conscious. The blond snarled, whipping around to face Demo, blood under her nails.
"Yoo dare attack me?"
"Die ye witch!" Demo made a cross with his fingers, holding them up to ward off the crazy. He was met with a kick to the gut, followed by a roundhouse in the face. The cyclops landed on the wood floor, and clumsily crawled away from a furry boot slamming down where his head was. Just as Demo got to his feet, Scout had regained his dignity and launched himself at Marisoo, literally landing on her back and yanking at her hair.
"Mess up my good looks, huh!" The Bostonian's face was littered with fresh scratch marks, some bleeding. "Let's see how ya like ya hair!" Scout pulled, legs wrapped around Marisoo's waist as she tried to throw him off her back. If Demo hadn't just been assaulted by what he believed to be a witch, the scene would have almost been funny.
"A lil help here?" Scout called out, glancing over at the Scotsman. The dark-haired man nodded out of his stupor, making his way over with fists raised. Marisoo let out a howl, fingers curling into Scout's wrists. Then, as if mustering up the strength of a humpback whale, the woman ripped Scout off her back by his wrists and threw him over her head at Demoman. The cyclops had barely a chance to catch the flying runner, only to be thrown back to the floor by his momentum. Pushing aside Scout, Demo saw Marisoo approach, dragging the red curtains she ripped from the window. The Scotsman threw up his finger cross once again, eye wide, and looking about ready to piss himself.
"Get back ye demon spawn, get back I say!"
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"Ach, I guess I vill be stuck with zhis bullet..." Medic patted his bare bloody shoulder, completely healed without any scarring. He pushed the nozzle of the medigun away from overhead, the red beam now uselessly pointing at the floor. On the rolling chair next to the cot, Pyro sat with a lollipop between scarred lips.
"Does it bother you?" Pyro pulled the lollipop out, and held it in a gloved hand. "You okay Medic?" Medic waved his teammate's worry away, sitting up shirtless in the cot, and throwing his legs over the side. He rotated his left shoulder, wincing a bit.
"I vill deal vith it lazher. Grab me a new shirt from zhe closet over zhere, bitte." The German dropped to the floor, and reached up to turn off the medigun beam. He heard Pyro humming behind him, sifting through his small infirmary closet next to Archimedes' cage. The dove was perched on the swing in his cage, quiet as he watched the familiar scarred face shoot him a smile.
"Here you go." A moment late the white button up settled on his shoulders, and Medic felt Pyro move to help him put it on. The doctor turned around, shrugging the shirt on and starting to button it, watching Pyro step back a bit, once again removing the lollipop.
"Sorry," the short mercenary apologized. Medic shook his head, pulling his suspenders up.
"I'm fine, liebling." This earned a small smile from Pyro who tossed the rest of the lollipop in the trash. As Medic buttoned his white coat and reached to unlatch his medigun from the ceiling, Pyro snatched up the rubber mask next to the doctor's bloodstained shirt.
Just as Pyro secured the gas mask, there was a thumping sound from the vent in the corner of the room. Medic glanced over at his teammate, and they both turned to metal grating near the ceiling, nearly shrouded in shadows due to the insufficient emergency lighting. Likewise, Archimedes turned his attention to the vent, letting out a soft coo, dark eyes staring staring in anticipation.
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Heavy and Sniper snapped around, looking into the darkness of the hall behind them. They had been searching the kitchen and dining hall, the latter of which didn't even have an emergency light, making it extremely difficult to move about. Regardless, the two had not found a single clue that the woman had even been through there, and were just about to head to the south wing when they heard some shouting in the distance.
"Scout?" Sniper asked, glancing over at Heavy. The Russian nodded, squinting into the red light that blended into black.
"Scout." The two turned and ran down the hall, Heavy trailing after Sniper. They took the north hall, heading toward the common room.
"You betta' let me outta' here you Crazy Soup Wolf Bitch!" The two tallest mercenaries entered the room, surveying the destruction. The wooden coffee table was flipped over with a shattered rum bottle nearby, and one of the windows missing a drape, but otherwise the room looked relatively undamaged. In front of the couch was a moving bundle covered by the missing curtain, tied with the gold cords. A pair of red feet and black boots stuck out, undoubtedly belonging to Demoman.
"Did ye just fart, lad?"
"What? No! Get your face outta' my ass, cyclops!"
"Why don't you get yer arse outta' me face instead!" Sniper shot Heavy an amused smile and the two walked over to the bundle.
"Well lookie wot we have here," Sniper laughed, crouching down to undo the cords. Heavy moved around the red-lit room, checking to see if the intruder was hiding in the shadows.
"Who's there? Is that you Snipes?" Sniper whipped the curtain off the two, revealing Scout and Demoman falling apart. Apparantly, Scout had been tied upside down, cheek plastered to the floor and knees hanging above him. Unfortunantely, that left Demo with a butt to the back of his head. Scout fell over, letting out a groan as Demo scrambled to his feet, throwing his fists up.
"Where did that demon go!" the Scotsman exclaimed, scanning the room. Sniper raised an amused eyebrow.
"Demon? Last I remember, we were lookin' for a lady. And looks like she did a number on you," the Australian snorted, gesturing at Demo's black eye. The demolitions expert huffed.
"This ain't nothing. Just looks painful, is all."
"When I get my hands on that psychopath..." Scout made a grunting noise, hands out as if strangling someone. The scratches on his face had stopped bleeding, though Sniper could tell they must have been painful to receive.
"I think she went this way," Heavy called over his teammates, gesturing to the vent in the corner of the room. The panel was pulled open, and the square crevice led into darkness. Sniper crouched down to peer in, raising his aviators from his eyes.
"That's an awfully small space...ya really think she could fit through?" Demo scoffed, crossing his arms.
"Of course! She probably used some bloody magic and whatnot, remember Merasmus?" Sniper looked ready to counter Demoman and bring up the ridculousness of such an assumption and then paused. He blinked, then shook his head. He's seen enough weird shit at RED to actually believe Demo might be on to something.
"Scout, you can fit, da?" Heavy brought up, glancing over to the thinnest of the four. The runner was searching for his pistol under the couch, frowning.
"No freakin' way. That's way too much of an enclosed space for me, okay?" His frown grew as he slid onto his stomach to look under the couch with narrowed eyes. "Where da hell did my gun go? Aw cripes..."
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Hopefully you guys found it mildly entertaining lol. Next chapter is the last part, so if you're not too into this arc, don't fret. Looking forward to feedback!