Disclaimer: Metal Gear is still not mine. But it will be. It will be…
Snake was having a bad day. Sure, the ninja, heart attacks, nerds, wolves, guards, sniper, tanks, helicopter, trapdoors, poisonous gas, more guards, cowboy, torture, and the fact that he was freezing his ass off in an underground warehouse were all contributing to this. But as we have noticed, Snake's attention span is roughly that of an ADHD-afflicted guppy, so he was mainly concentrating on the seven-foot-tall Inuit Shaman carrying 500 pounds of gun, bullets, and backpack. Shirtless. In the fucking permafrost.
Yep, as you may have guess, Raven was a wee bit ridiculously tough.
Anyways, Raven had just started his dissertation on how ravens were totally badass and cool little birds, when Snake cut in. "Wait a fucking minute, you're the fucker from the M1 tank! How the hell aren't you, I dunno, fucking dead?"
"That was no true battle…" The Eskimo said as he jumped from his perch on top of a crate to the floor of the warehouse. "…The ravens and I were just testing to see what kind of man you are. The judgment is decided. The ravens say that you are a true warrior."
Snake scowled. "Dude. They are fucking birds. They don't say anything. Except 'caw'. Taking advice from a flock of overgrown, evil-looking canaries is really stupid."
"Hey! Who's the Shaman around here?" Raven monotoned. "Feel the wrath of my wacky birthmark magic!" he continued as his forehead glowed and a Raven seemed to fly out of it. It landed on Snake.
"What the hell? I can't move" Said our hero, noting that he couldn't move. "Oh, and if your bird craps on my shoulder, I am so aiming for the crotch in this upcoming boss fight, got it?"
"The Raven has put the mark of death on you… You know, the Inuit and Japanese share many ancestors. We might even be cousins…"
"Right… so? I fucking set my dad on fire using a can of hairspray. It's not like some distant ancestry's gonna save you…" As the bird on Snake shoulder left him, Snake began to move again.
IN HELL…
"GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING SONUVA BITCH! THE NEXT PERSON WHO SAYS ANYTHING ABOUT MY DEATH IS GOING TO GET AN AMATUER VASECTOMY WITH A SPOON!".
"Wow, calm down zere Saladin." Wolf said, trying to stop Big Boss from shoving a fist through the TV. Big Boss sighed and sat back down on the couch.
"Wait… Wolf's there too? C'mon guys, please let me in?"
"Shut it, Octopus. Don't make me go out there." Big Boss said.
"Suit yourself. Man, I don't even want to sit next to a man killed by his own son… who used a can of hairspray! Hahahaha!" Octopus yelled.
That's promptly when Big Boss bolted off the sofa, tore open the door, grabbed Octopus by the throat, and, as he had promised, began to surgically sterilize Octopus with a spoon.
And Mantis and Wolf could only wince.
"-Kssh-… I think we should keep out mouths shut for the rest of the evening, don't you think so, Wolf? –kssssssssh-…"
"Yes Mantis. Zhat sounds like a good idea…"
"Hold still Octopus! Damnit, come back here! I swear, if you run, I am going to be really angry!"
"Hahaha! You'll never catch me! And guess what? I'm in your apartment now!"
"Maybe ve should leave…"
"-Ksssssh- Right… and miss Octopus getting his ass handed to him by the greatest soldier ever?-hsssssssssssh-."
BACK AT SHADOW MOSES…
"Anyways, Snake, have you heard of the World Eskimo-Indian Olympics?" Raven asked, obviously concerned over whether or not Snake gave a damn about a sporting event.
"Yeah, I know it. You must be a real threat in the Muk-Tuk eating contest."
"Damnit, I'm not fat!"
"C'mon Ravy, we both know that you are. Remember, admission is the first step towards healing…"
"Fine, I won it three straight years in a row. But, nevertheless, I was referring to the Ear Pull, something else I'm very good at…"
WORLD ESKIMO-INDIAN OLYMPICS, 2004
"Okay folks, this is it, the final round of the Ear Pull. Whoever wins is the greatest man in the world at pulling another guy's ears while standing in the middle of a frozen wasteland. And ESPN-17 is bringing you all the action, all the excitement. And here's our challenger, Nightwolf. Yep, he's standing right up to the champion, Vulcan Raven. And there's the bell, the match has gotten under…HOLY FUCK! RAVEN JUST TORE THE GUY'S EARS OFF! JESUS CHRIST! Er… okay. Well then, I guess we have a winner. The champion defended his title, and for the fifth straight year in a row, the challenger has just had his ears torn clean off his head. Jesus Christ. I fucking spill coffee on the producer once, and I'm bumped from covering the NFL to this crap. Seriously. Wait… Raven's coming here? What, we're still rolling? HOLY FUCK!"
BACK AT SHADOW MOSES…
"So, you want to tear my ears off?"
"No, I'm just going to run around and liquefy you with my chaingun."
"Oh."
"Rejoice Snake! Our will be a glorious battle!"
"This isn't glorious, it's just plain killing. Violence isn't a game! Wait… yeah, we are in a game. Oh well, it still sucks!"
The battle was joined. And by that, I mean Raven stomped around the warehouse indiscriminately laying waste to everything he laid his eyes. Which, I have to say, is my kind of battle plan.
As for Snake, his kind of battle plan was simple; don't get shredded into confetti by the 20mm slugs Raven was spraying around. And so, this continued, as Snake dodged, rations were used, Raven stomped, and a bunch of crates that probably might've had something important in them were being torn apart by cannon fire.
Pretty soon, Snake finally had a use for all those claymore mines he took from the genome soldiers. Placing one on the ground, he began to run through the containers, turning at the corners.
Left,
Right,
Left,
Left,
Right,
Left,
Left,
Left,
Right,
Right,
Left…
…Until he stepped on the mine he had placed.
DAMN YOU…uh ME! Snake thought as, yet again, he was sent flying. Getting to his feet, he noticed that he was in the line of sight of our irate Inuit antagonist. And so, he was promptly knocked down by gunfire, again, using up yet another ration.
Ducking for more cover, Snake revised his earlier plan. Having a claymore mine foolishly placed anywhere was not a winning tactic. Having a dozen strewn about the floor? Brilliant! Er, at least to Snake…
And so, armed with this new plan, Snake placed the mines everywhere, and amazingly, for every two Snake stepped on in his indiscriminant running, Raven stepped on one. Sure, this exchange rate necessitated the use of many rations, but hey, Raven's health bar was going down.
And so, once Raven lost half his health, he stopped stomping around and decided to haul ass. And Snake was running low on claymores. He needed help, and fast. So, the call was placed...
"Snake" Nastasha said over the CODEC. "That M61 Vulcan Cannon is usually mounted on F-16 jets. It would turn you to borscht!"
"I know that. Give me an idea to take him out. Actually, don't say anything, I'm just going to shoot this guy with a rocket launcher."
And so, Snake began indiscriminately firing Stingers at Raven. Who managed to shoot some of them down. But still, Snake's running around like a decapitated chicken allowed him to get the drop on Raven once or twice. And so, yet another villain fell to the skill of Solid Snake.
Raven leaned heavily against the wall, breathing hard. "Just like the boss said… I am so fucking dead…". Just then, one of his birds landed on his shoulder. "But… I will not stay in this place… my spirit and my flesh will become one with the Ravens. I will be watching you, understand?"
"Right, something about being one with the crows in their creepy voyeurism or something…"
Raven sighed, handing Snake another security card, level 7, the highest in the base. "Take this card."
"Why are you giving me this?"
Raven could've simply said "Don't look a gift horse in its bleeding, mortally wounded mouth, you jackass.", but he chose to be a little more cryptic. "You and the boss are Snakes not created by nature... you are from a world that I do not wish to know. Do battle with him, and I will watch from above…"
BACK IN HELL…
"Yeah right buddy. –Hssssssssssk- I'm sure you'll be sitting on this couch right next to us. –Kssssssssh-."
SHADOW MOSES…
"And now, I shall give you a hint… The man that you saw die before your eyes…"
"Which one? Seriously, right here alone, I know that at I've killed at least three dozen people, and that is a very low estimate. Not counting the guys who died because of their own stupidity. So seriously, narrow it down a little more…"
"Fine, Ocelot killed the DARPA Chief, so we had Decoy Octopus dress up like him, but while he could fool idiotic black ops soldiers, he couldn't trick the Angel of Death…" As Raven said this, a weird, sepia-toned flashback of said events showed up.
"Why impersonate the chief?"
"You still have a solid two hours of inane banter to go through, Snake. You'll figure it out, when the time comes…"
Sighing, Snake turned and walked away as the ravens began to envelope Raven.
"In the natural world, there is no such thing as boundless slaughter. Everything has a beginning and an end. But you are different." Raven started, as the obligatory reflective music began playing and the Ravens began to eat him alive. And I'd like to mention, he never experienced a single tonal shift throughout all of it. He made getting eaten alive by ravens sound, well, boring. Anyways, Raven continued; "The path you walk on has no end. Each step you take is paved with the corpses of your enemies... They will haunt you forever… You will have no peace… Hear me Snake! My spirit shall be watching you!"
Snake turned to see the ravens depart, leaving nothing of their master except his gun. Wow. A flock of ravens can consume the skin, muscles, organs, and bones of a seven foot tall, immensely muscular guy within the length of one protracted deathspeech. Memo to self: Don't fuck with birds.
And So, Snake's CODEC beeped.
"Snake, it's me…" Master Miller said.
"Dude, I just so totally killed Vulcan Raven. And then he was all like 'You killed a lot of people, and I'll be watching you'. And then he got eaten by crows! It was fucking awesome man!"
"Er. Wait, Raven's dead? Fuck, he owes me money! Curses! Wait, er, I mean, turn your monitor off. There's something about Naomi…"
"Watsh thish about Naomi?" Campbell slurred in.
"Curses! Er, is she there?"
"No, she got shleepy and took a napsh…"
"Good. Okay, Campbell, Snake, listen up. Doctor Naomi Hunter is not Doctor Naomi Hunter. Seriously, there was a Naomi Hunter who went missing in the Middle East. And obviously, no two people can have the same name…"
"Egads! What vile treachery!"
"Holy shtolen identitiesh, Batman! To the time masheen-ah!"
"Er… right. Anyways, she must be a spy!"
"Oh damn! The FOX-HOUND medical expert, spying on us for FOX-HOUND? I never would've guessed!"
"Rightsh! Sho, whatsh should we do?"
"Easy, arrest her!"
"Mansh. If Naomish one of their shpiesh, we are in big troublesh!"
Snake chimed back in. "Why? She's a doctor. I mean, the only secrets she'd be privy to would be things pertaining to medicine. Like heart attacks. Wait a minute! Does the secret involve something about the mysterious deaths of Baker and Octopus?"
"Absholutelysh notsh! Give me shome timesh! We need to figure out what shesh doing!"
"Whatever. Listen lardass, hurry it up, because I think that you are hiding something from me. And frankly, if I find out that my notion is correct, the next time you kidnap me, strip me naked, and tell me that I have to blow up a mech, I might refuse. Got it?" Snake growled, signing off.
So join us next time, when we delve into mayhem, betrayal, and blasting a small mouse to kingdom come because he stole a keycard.
Author's note: Wow. Two years ago, I started on my third fic, after deleting my first two for what could be called a failure of artistic accomplishment, or, as I like to call it, sucking like a hurricane. I never expected that I would get as much positive feedback for this as I have, and I have to thank all of you for it. Without it, I probably would've never gotten this far into the fic. I thank all of you for your support, for making a small hobby I do when I'm bored a hell of a lot more enjoyable. Let's all hope I can finish this before year three. Oh, and Happy Halloween.