Shadow looked at Java as he stood over him, smirking. Suddenly, a hail of bullets thudded into the side of him as Chris opened fire.
He came down the hall firing like crazy. An unrelenting stream of fire pounded into Java. Empty clip. He went for his side arm, walking as he dropped his rife?
?only to be caught up in a writhing mass of tendrils slithering forth from Java's outstretched arm.
Jack knew Bravo 1. He had been friends with him. They had been friends ever since childhood. He knew Java?
?and this thing wasn't Java. At that moment he felt the hate well up inside him. Bravo lead had just been walking through the halls, clearing out the building when some detestable class 6 anomaly had come upon him. The crew was outfitted for class 3, meaning that they'd been expecting no more than light resistance from territorial beings. Class 6 hunts for enjoyment.
He went for his weapon, desiring nothing more than to put all of his bullets into this? this thing! But he stopped himself and took a deep breath. Anger would only cloud his judgement, and right now Hawk was MIA and Chris was under attack. He had to think clearly.
What made a class 6 anomaly so dangerous? Their evil nature. They were dark creatures. The dark protected them from most normal attacks -- to an extent -- and resistance was almost always futile. In order to fight these monsters, the MK 3 would need to be deployed.
Jack reached into his pocket and produced a small cylindrical object. he purred the pin on it and held down the trigger. it wouldn't detonate until he was ready.
He got to his feet, drew his Israel Military Industries Desert Eagle and walked towards the beast, firing two rounds as he walked. Java turned his head and raised his arms. The next thing Jack knew, he has up in the air being squeezed by the tendrils. He had dropped his gun as a reflex, and now looked for it, seeing it about a meter behind him. He dropped the grenade.
A white flash invaded the room, stunning everyone momentarily. A hundred voices screamed out as one as Java's shadowy body burned and melted from the light. Jack swept his hands across the floor, looking for his Deagle. He found it, spun -- having no idea where he was or what position he was in -- and fired thrice at the source of the screaming.
The screaming abruptly stopped and Jack knew that the thing was dead. That was why Hawk had only spotted some Class 2s outside -- The Class 6s would never go out in the light.
As the vision returned to Jack, he recoiled at the sight before him. Java's twisted, burnt face was stuck in a look of absolute agony. Black liquid seeped out of the bullet holes in the chest. He couldn't believe the situation he was now in. He, Java and Chris had been best friends for as long as he could remember. And now his body lay still in front of him.
He bent down and picked up one of the Deagle's shells from the ground. It was an SOU tradition to, at the funeral of a dead soldier, leave the case of the bullet that killed whatever killed the soldier in the coffin. This was not a revenge thing -- it was a reminder that the sacrifices that they make are not for nothing, that despite the fact the soldier is dead, they played a part in bringing down something dangerous. Something that needed to be destroyed.
Chris came in through the door, weapon up. His jaw dropped when he saw Java's body. He hadn't realised.
"Oh, no? those things? they're Bravo team?" he asked. Jack just nodded. It was on now.
"Come in, tailgate. We've encountered a nest. Multiple Class 6s. We need immediate re-supply. Rendezvous Charlie for ex-fil," Jack said over his radio. His earpiece crackled to life and a woman's voice came over it.
"Roger that, Shadow. Tailgate is en route.
Both men checked their weapons.
"Hawk, come in. This is Shadow. Do you read?" Silence. "Shredder, Moretz? Alpha team?" he said, getting desperate.
Silence.
Dread loomed over the two men as they pressed their weapons into their shoulders and moved out towards the roof.
He came down the hall firing like crazy. An unrelenting stream of fire pounded into Java. Empty clip. He went for his side arm, walking as he dropped his rife?
?only to be caught up in a writhing mass of tendrils slithering forth from Java's outstretched arm.
Jack knew Bravo 1. He had been friends with him. They had been friends ever since childhood. He knew Java?
?and this thing wasn't Java. At that moment he felt the hate well up inside him. Bravo lead had just been walking through the halls, clearing out the building when some detestable class 6 anomaly had come upon him. The crew was outfitted for class 3, meaning that they'd been expecting no more than light resistance from territorial beings. Class 6 hunts for enjoyment.
He went for his weapon, desiring nothing more than to put all of his bullets into this? this thing! But he stopped himself and took a deep breath. Anger would only cloud his judgement, and right now Hawk was MIA and Chris was under attack. He had to think clearly.
What made a class 6 anomaly so dangerous? Their evil nature. They were dark creatures. The dark protected them from most normal attacks -- to an extent -- and resistance was almost always futile. In order to fight these monsters, the MK 3 would need to be deployed.
Jack reached into his pocket and produced a small cylindrical object. he purred the pin on it and held down the trigger. it wouldn't detonate until he was ready.
He got to his feet, drew his Israel Military Industries Desert Eagle and walked towards the beast, firing two rounds as he walked. Java turned his head and raised his arms. The next thing Jack knew, he has up in the air being squeezed by the tendrils. He had dropped his gun as a reflex, and now looked for it, seeing it about a meter behind him. He dropped the grenade.
A white flash invaded the room, stunning everyone momentarily. A hundred voices screamed out as one as Java's shadowy body burned and melted from the light. Jack swept his hands across the floor, looking for his Deagle. He found it, spun -- having no idea where he was or what position he was in -- and fired thrice at the source of the screaming.
The screaming abruptly stopped and Jack knew that the thing was dead. That was why Hawk had only spotted some Class 2s outside -- The Class 6s would never go out in the light.
As the vision returned to Jack, he recoiled at the sight before him. Java's twisted, burnt face was stuck in a look of absolute agony. Black liquid seeped out of the bullet holes in the chest. He couldn't believe the situation he was now in. He, Java and Chris had been best friends for as long as he could remember. And now his body lay still in front of him.
He bent down and picked up one of the Deagle's shells from the ground. It was an SOU tradition to, at the funeral of a dead soldier, leave the case of the bullet that killed whatever killed the soldier in the coffin. This was not a revenge thing -- it was a reminder that the sacrifices that they make are not for nothing, that despite the fact the soldier is dead, they played a part in bringing down something dangerous. Something that needed to be destroyed.
Chris came in through the door, weapon up. His jaw dropped when he saw Java's body. He hadn't realised.
"Oh, no? those things? they're Bravo team?" he asked. Jack just nodded. It was on now.
"Come in, tailgate. We've encountered a nest. Multiple Class 6s. We need immediate re-supply. Rendezvous Charlie for ex-fil," Jack said over his radio. His earpiece crackled to life and a woman's voice came over it.
"Roger that, Shadow. Tailgate is en route.
Both men checked their weapons.
"Hawk, come in. This is Shadow. Do you read?" Silence. "Shredder, Moretz? Alpha team?" he said, getting desperate.
Silence.
Dread loomed over the two men as they pressed their weapons into their shoulders and moved out towards the roof.
