Author's Note:*cough cough*: why did i cough? Nothing to say except the
Disclaimer(thingy):Ok I don't own anything remotely related to halo or bungie. I once knew someone who said he owned halo. Shortly after he disappeared, so did his family......his friends.......his neighbours.....his hometown........errrr I never met such a person, no no I never did.
Chapter 2: Laugh with me
America, additional information lost
John-117 "Master Chief" , Jerome-092, Douglas-042 and Alice-130 sat in a car, hosted by the ONI, which was bringing them to the main building of Section I. None of them trusted ONI, they were all aquainted to many of its shadowy operators. Douglas was especially nervous (if such a word even applies for a Spartan), moreso suspicious, twitching from one side to the other, before he finally spoke up.
"I suppose none of you guys know what is going on?"
All of them wore their Mark-VI-Mjolnir armour, with pride no less, after all, after the war many rebel groups reassembled themselves, seeing the Spartans as lap-dogs of the oppressive UNSC. As a matter of fact, all remaining Spartans were in danger on such rebel-infested-worlds, but the danger only slightly subsided on Earth itself, as many rebels saw in the killing of the Spartans an active way to show the UNSC its mortality. An assassin with the head of the Master Chief could gain a fortune from such groups.
"They didn't tell anything to any of us, why should they? After all, our "dear" UNSC is mostly under control of ONI by now, and ONI handles everything the ONI-way, which means: Don't tell anyone anything, especially if one could actually use the knowledge. I am so tired of this cramping bureocracy. All the power they gained, it seems to me that they are playing with it like a child which enjoys its father's flamethrower. Just look at the new laws for the "containment of AI-rampancy" which means: All Ais are to be taken into custody, never to emerge again. This reminds me, John, did they take Cortana too?" asked Alice.
John felt an uncomfortable wave of ice shiver down his spine "Yes, they did. Despite all her services to humanity, she now rots, probably somewhere in Section I. Containment of AI-rampancy my ass, she was always one of the most stable Ais!" his voice was dripping with guilt and anger, pictures of the time they spent together flashed in his mind.
"They did the same with Serina as far as I know. I have no idea why the government lets it happen, after all Ais are real copies of human brain patterns, which makes them actual sentient beings, But i suppose even the government trembles before ONI, these useless scumbags." Jerome was not happy with the situation.
"Are you sure you wanna speak that out loud? They could take everything from you, just to make a point." Douglas' voice was tempting.
"Oh, they really can't detain a Spartan, they would destroy our so-called "Mythic Image". But of course they can slit my throat in my slumber and then accuse the rebels of it. That is one of the many reasons I always keep a gun under my pillow."
After several hours of driving the Spartans finally arrived at the Mainbuilding of ONI's Section I, a skyscraper by the outern looks, and were led into a briefing room. There an ONI operative and Parangosky herself were waiting for the Spartans. More out of common sense than out of respect, the Spartans saluted before her, John visibly more half hearted than the others.
Parangosky, at the sight of these gesture, just replied "At ease."
The operative, a - in comparison to "normal" people – tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes with scandinavian facial features, spoke up: "Greetings Spartans and especially you Master Chief. I am Colonel Arvid. ONI has summoned you here because one of our detainees has escaped, a most delicate situation."
Alice's voice revealed her unbelief "Someone escaped from an ONI-detainment-cell? As much as I know, those cells are located under the earth, one massive steel door, the walls made of thick cement and everything is totally sterile, in addition to all the fancy security mechanisms. How could someone escape from there?"
The Colonel gave an sarcastical grin "Well, it is virtually impossible by any means. In this case, the detainee just took the most conventional one: he dug his way through the cement, another sign for the extreme mental destability and danger of this individual. Appearently the cell was abandoned a long time ago, we just found out that the specific detainee escaped, because of a murder, commited by the specific individual."
Now John took part in the briefing "Define "murder"."
"Well, the former detainee stormed a high security ONI armory, filled with with weapons, conventional and experimental. He most probably killed the whole personal stationed there. What we know for sure is that he tortured the stationed scientists to death. Here is the security footage."
He motioned to the large screen on the other end of the room.
The Colonel turned the screen on and the light off. It showed the observating view of a security camera, in this specfic case the camera overlooked a rectangular room, filled with various lab material, two guards standing before the front door and one female, clad in a white scientist coat. All of them were worried, staring directly at the door, the guards took cover behind a table, their weapons pointed at the door. One of the guards spoke on the radio, while the scientist became seemingly more scared. "I don't care whether he can swim through shadows! Just point a gun at him and shoot! What? Now he is invincible? Keep shooting! Hello? Damnit!" Even more worried the guards pointed their guns at the door, obviousely shaking, beads of sweat running down their hands.
"Can anyone hear me? We are in lab-C, is anyone else alive? Goddamnit guys, not everyone of us -"
Suddenly the door exploded,smoke and metal shreds flying through the room, some hit the camera, striking cracks and jammed the built-in-listening-device. While the guards keept shooting aimlessly at the smoke, an armored figure, standing 2,1 m in height, armed with a sniper rifle in one hand and what seemed like a plasma sword in the other, leaped through the smoke at one guard, stabbing him right through the chest, holding the impaled man high in the air. Using the man as a living shield, the figure approached the other guard, before throwing the impaled one off the sword, leaping at the other guard and swinging the sniper rifle without mercy on the skull, laughing maniacally, reducing it to a composture of liquified brainmass and broken bones, the life fluid gathering on the ground.
Only now the figure became fully visible, revealing what once seemed to be a highly evolved combat armor, like the Spartans wear them. But now it was heavily damaged, revealing countless scars and open wounds. The whole figure was soaked in blood, giving it ironically an even more intimidating look.
While the figure still knelt over the guard, the scientist tried to sneak out of the room, only to be stopped by the thrown plasma sword which sliced a minor wound into her leg. She seemed to scream and sob, then ran frantically to the door, to be stopped by the figure itself this time, standing right in the destroyed door. The scientist ran directly toward the other end of the room, trying to stay as far away as possible, fear having already overriden all rational sense.
It was clear that the figure was enjoying to hunt the scientist through the room, dealing more and more little wounds to her, until the loss of blood forced her to crouch. The figure planted its heavy foot on the scientist, then pinned her against the wall with one hand, while ripping off the white coat with the other. It drew a knive out of its suit, began dancing with the blade on her bare shoulder, before stabbing it slightly inside, tearing off the skin righ to the bone, emphasizing a slow pace. Like a dearing lover, it sheathed the knive back into his suit and slowly began breaking the bone, then took it out piece by piece, blood running in streams out of the horrible wound, the scientist seemingly screaming at the top of her lungs. The figure, obviousely enjoying itself, moved its mouth to the collarbone, drove its teeth deep into the skin, tearing out a chunk of flesh, chewing on it. Then it moved its fingers back to the wounded arm, caressing it gently, before slowly pulling it, tearing it off from the stump sinew by sinew, while still emphasizing a particular slowness. With the arm still in its hand, the figure went to the opposite wall, began writing with the blood spewing out of the dismembered limb:
This is Pair Soldier 1 1 ,
Former Laugh of the Pair "Laugh and Cry" ,
"Laughing Death" ,
I am the momentum to all your sins.
With that the figure went back to the scientist and threw her playfully against the adjacent wall, directly against the camera, which fell down with the scientist, the picture began to flicker due to the massive damage, but the listening device was unjammed.
The figure, or "Laughing Death" as it called itself, stepped to the agonized scientist, held her high with both hands around the neck, speaking with a deep voice, a voice that was rarely in use for a long amount of time
"Laugh with me! Laugh! End my pain and yours! Laugh! Or do you want me to go on dissecting your own body with you still being alive?"
The scientist began to sob through the cries of agony, obviousely not understanding what the man wanted from her
"I want you to laugh, share with me the excitement of dying and I will end all your pain! Laugh!"
The scientist managed to reduce her screams to sobbing
"Laugh!"
She managed to gag, trying desperately to laugh through her streams of tears, sobbing, sweating and pain
"Laugh!"
The woman now brought some kind of laughter into her constant sobbing.
The picture flickered one last time, then turned off.