Oh well! Whatever pain he must be going through must really suck! What? What else am I supposed to say? Even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to be his therapist when the dude can't even talk?
Anyways. Wait I feel like I've been saying "anyways" too much huh? I need a fucking thesaurus or something if I'm gonna keep talking to you guys, like fuck. Who knew this was gonna be so hard?
Moving on from that, I just sorta sat in the car for a bit staring that the storage house our car was parked in front of. It was eerily quiet, like a calm before the storm. A really bloody, fucked up, bullet condensed storm. Listen, we all know what's gonna happen. Our squad was formed to kill large amounts of people. Everyone inside that building is going to be murdered via gun, knife, or bone.
Kind of an odd thing to say but it's true. But when you think about it, if all the people I kill are fucked in the head enough to follow that candy-offering, white van-driving adjacent harasser who should lowkey be in some form of psych ward, maybe they deserve to die. Makes it feel all the more satisfying.
"Hey, are we done over there? We were supposed to have those twins' brains splattered on a wall like, yesterday."
"Just a sec, honey! You never know when you need more guns!" The dumb blonde says before walking into my field of view, the previously forementioned knives and Uzis now accompanies by two automatic assault rifles hoisting on each of the top shoulders and the barrel of her sniper rifle pointed up at the sky on her back.
"Ain't that shit heavy? You have six limbs like a fucking insect. You're no where near Drain 'The Cock' Johnson over there." I jam a thumb over at Pavul who seemed to already be prepared with his shotgun and riot shield accompanied with several flash grenades, extra shells and body armor. He didn't seem to be listening to our conversation because I know for sure his ass would've yelled at me for what I said. If he did, maybe he just doesn't give a fuck anymore.
"Oh, it's fine, don't worry, sweetie! It may not look like it, but I'm pretty strong myself!" She says crossing her left arm over her chest and placing her hand on her right bicep.
I click my tongue and avert my gaze over to our boss. "So are we like, gonna go in or what? I'm getting antsy over here and at any rate, that guy is gonna have a heart attack before anything." Motioning my head over to Drake, he seems to have broken off some of the bones that sprouted out of him, rib-shaped spikes laying in a pool of blood on the ground.
"Needed to make sure you were awake fully." He says walking up to the entrance which was a tall set of gray double doors. Chrissy and I follow behind him with Drake dragging himself not too far behind.
We all look up at the doors. I grip my pistols, ready to rush in and take a detour to our main target. Chrissy cracks her neck, her lower hands on her hips, prepared to scale up the ladders on the sides to the roof. Drake hunches over, spikes slithering out from underneath his sleeves and past his hands, barely able to contain himself.
"Team 13."
I hear his voice echo next to me and through my earpiece I put in prior. He presses the tip of his foot against the crack of the two doors. Time stops for a moment as we all stare at the door with open eyes as if already seeing the people inside. I inhale.
Exhale.
"Shoot to kill."
As if those words being the cue for time to move once more, Pavul pulls his leg back and kicks the doors, forcing them to swing open and causing a loud thud to sound in the whole building. The people inside turn away from their assembly stations and look towards the door, a few of them tightening their hold around the guns they were assembling but all of them looking at us knowing that whether we like it or not, only one party is going to be leaving this place alive.
One of the goons in front of us gets her head blown off, some chunks of flesh I'm unable to identify flying away in the opposite direction of me. After her body collapses on the floor with a loud and wet splatter, my head turns to our boss who had his shotgun pointed straight at the now dead woman. Triggering the oh so steamy mood of tonight, some of the soldiers scream, a few panic, a couple grit their teeth, but all of them pointed their guns at us and opened fire.
A loud voice on one of the intercoms fill our arena. I see Adam and Steve hold onto a microphone that dropped down from their ceiling as they open their mouths to talk.
"Welcome Team 13!"
Adam's bright and excited tone exclaims before they start alternating who speaks into the microphone.
"I hope you are all prepared and ready to go."
Steve's Eeyore sounding ass echoes before Adam snatches the mic from his brother's hand.
"Cyrus sends his regards!"
After the split second I'm distracted by them, I see a person aim their rifle at me. I then dive for cover behind a workstation to the left of me and...
Death 18.
I... Huh? I squint as I find myself with the others behind the door.
"Team 13."
"Fuck!"
Everyone shifts their attention towards me, Pavul looking annoyed as always with Chrissy and Drake looking more puzzled than anything.
I suck on my teeth and pinch the bridge of my nose. Major aura loss on my part.
"My bad, my bad. You were gonna say this super cool thing and I fucked that up. I take full responsibility." I press my hands against my chest as I look up at Pavul. He rolls his eyes.
Seriously though, what the fuck happened? Let's see here... Near instant death, didn't see it, and a sharp hot pain before I got here. What did those twins specialize in again? Traps, right? Well shit. I just did a full ass swan dive onto an armed mine. Y'know what, I couldn't care less. Honestly a little funny when I think about it.
Pavul kicks down the door and 200 pumps that lady again. Blood and guts spatter in the same exact areas as last time and hell breaks loose once again with Adam and Steve's words ringing on the speakers.
This time, I look before I fucking leap! And yeah, there's a mine right there. Let's just...
I duck down behind the table as several rifles begin to fire at our direction, avoiding the explosive as much as possible. In the corner of my eye, I see Drake full-on sprint into the fray. Before I knew what he was capable, I'd tell him to stop acting invincible, but honestly, I couldn't give not one, not three, but not two shits about his safety.
Looking over the table after realizing the fire was drawn away from me, I see him impale a guy's neck and push him on the floor, the bone stabbing into the ground and breaking off Drake's wrist as the guy gurgles on his own blood. Don't expect it to stop there though, because he lunges towards the closest person shoot at him and stabs them repeatedly in the chest. Gritting his teeth, the guy getting stabbed pulls out a knife from his vest and tries jabbing it into Drake's head. Surprise, surprise the knife seems to take more damage than that absolute unit. Who even approved this guy of existing at all? I mean sure, less work for me, but the fuck? He's tanking a knife and not to mention, hella bullets coming at him.
"Wulf!"
I get broken out of my trance as I hear my boss yell over at me. He shouts over the blasts of his shotgun while kneels behind his riot shield.
"Go! Now!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it!"
Standing up, I see a soldier slide into my row of desks. They draw their pistol and aim it at me before Pavul blows off the arm that was holding onto the gun. Amidst the guy's scream of agony, I get on my feet and take equip a pistol on my right hand. I spin it around my finger and hit the side of his head while spinning it, causing their dome to bang against the desk. I pull my arm back and hit a right hook while holding the pistol in the same place I hit him. His skull cracks and his eyelids come to halfway-shut. Dead I think? It's that or comatose. Either way the dude is out of commission.
"Y'know, what? Not too bad! Thanks, Lola!" I stand up and run towards a door right in front of me, but before I even take two steps I get shot in the head.
Death 19.
"Go! Now!"
I groan and roll my eyes before murking that one guy again. So fucking annoying hearing him scream, like come on! Do me a favor and shut your trap when you get your arm shot off pretty please.
Also, note to self: don't randomly stand up in a crossfire.
Abiding by that mental note, my hand presses against the side of the desks while crouch-walk past all the gunfire. Gunfire and lots of screaming actually. I get that when you're reading this, it's probably to some music or some shit but I don't think you realize HOW LOUD IT IS HERE. It sucks even more that I still fucking flinch sometimes at gunshots! You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but you know what? When all this noise is super similar to what I heard when my college got shown some pumped up kicks, it doesn't exactly help my performance issues!
As I try to get to the door while all hell breaks loose, my foot suddenly presses against something thin. A trip wire. I look to my left and see a fat load of dynamite attached to the wall with some clay before I take said fat load to the face.
Death 20.
"Go! Now!"
"I heard you the first time, you straight-out-the-womb gym rat!"
Okay! Backtracking. I kill that guy again and try to heave ass towards the door. I step over the now very obvious trip wire and reach the door. Thankfully, I open it just in time for it to block some bullets. Stepping inside, I find myself in a way different place than before. It feels really similar to a hospital with the walls and floor tiles being a dull white compared to the gray rusting metal walls, stairs, and railings outside. As I close the doors, the sounds of the ceiling lights buzzing almost overpowers the sound happening out there. Only almost though. I can still hear some gunshots and yelling, but it's a bit more bearable now.
I take in a long inhale through my nose but sneeze due to the sawdust in the air.
"Shitass."
Sniffling, I wipe my nose with my forearm as I start to walk down the hallway. Supposedly there's a large vent grate around the bottom of one of these walls. Kinda forgot where though. We're always given some details on paper that we're supposed to read before missions to get our act ready for the stage, but I never look at those. Too much work.
Oh look there's a turn up ahead.
Turning my head to the right I spot the vent thing at the end of the hallway. Pfft. Score.
Honestly this bit of the job is pretty easy! Just play spot the vent. Of course, there's the whole going inside the vent thing and actually jumping into a window to get to those two fuckers in their little cuck box but I'll take a break any day of the week.
A gunshot suddenly fills the halls.
Death 21.
I blink and turn around quickly. Just before I get shot I spot a guy with a buzzcut holding their pistol.
Death 22.
Okay. No problem. Just gotta kill him before he kills me.
I reach for one of my pistols and quickly point it at him.
Death 23.
Bro, come on, Vivian! This can't be that hard!
I try to do the same thing quicker this time.
Death 24.
Dude. Oh my lord. Alright. Just gotta try again.
...