djtenku | [writing] Project Chaos

Title: Silence
Word Count: 2083
Summary: Anger. Cards. Freefall.

“Talk, you piece of shit!”

The rain of blows echoed down the hall and even outside of the small building; the helpless cries and pleas were now whimpers of pain. Every once in a while there was a yelp but that was swallowed up by the thick cold walls.

Roya watched, silent. She was crouching, hands lightly pushing against the glass door. Her emerald eyes gazed at the constant punishment for the past two hours, impassive; her pure white gown and sabre hair pooled around her frame. How can anyone take this?

“Please,” Racre Xander managed, gasping for air when breathing through his nose didn’t suffice; blood seeped out from his nostrils. His blurred vision swam more when he tilted his head up, seeing the dark shadow that was attacking him. Any slight movement caused searing pain to rack his body, right down to his fingers. He could not defend himself; his hands and arms were binded tightly together behind his back by rope. “Stop!”

Lang gazed at the skinny man tied to the chair questionably. “Are you going to tell me how to work Chaos?” he growled.

“N-no, I...” Xander hollered as a sharp sudden impact connected with his jaw, causing his glasses to fly off and land somewhere in the darkness. He could’ve sworn he had some loose teeth.

“This’ll be a lot easier if you would tell me, Mr. Xander,” Lang continued, “This hurts you way more than it hurts me.”

Xander glared at his torturer, working his jaw. Just as Lang raised up his fist for another strike, he spat a wad of phlegm out, landing squarely landing on his face. Xander smiled in triumphance as he wiped away the spit, emitting a feral growl, but at the same time, smiling fiercely.

Lang glanced over his shoulder, seeing Roya. She’s still here? “Roya, go make yourself useful and get Sol.” He faced Xander again, who in turn, gazed up at him with fear and uncertainty.

Roya stood up, brushing her clothing diligently, and paced down the hall, feet barely touching the ground. She passed by the many unmarked doors that lined the steel hall, and crossed to the short flight of stairs, entering into the lobby, welcoming her by the smell of caffiene; even the faint aroma of petroleum, and the sounds of talking.

Some guards were huddled around the heater, desprerately trying to warm themselves, others appeared to be patroling, or at least appearing to, and the remaining were on break. She approached one sitting on the edge of the steps, and tapped his shoulder, startling him. She whispered in his ear; he nodded, stretching as he rose, and disappeared from the lobby before coming back at a rushed gait, wheezing. “He’ll...be here...ma’am.” The guard huffed as he sat down on the steps.

A few moments later, the guards complained about the sudden onset of the strong petroleum smell; two gagged from lack of oxygen, others scrambled towards the door, including the guard who sat at the steps. Only a few were left, taking space around the heater. Roya turned up her nose at the sharp aroma, constantly blinking to keep her eyes from watering.

A stocky man wearing a blue flak jacket and green camoflauge pants came into view, just from the hall next to the door, scratching his ruddy hair and mouth wide open, yawning loudly and stretching. He glanced over to the lone group of guards; another gasped loudly before collapsing to the floor.

“And you call yourselves men,” Sol muttered. He turned to Roya, who had her scarf wrapped around her nose, bright green eyes staring at him fiercely. “Lemme guess, he ain’t breakin’.”

Roya shook her head “no”, trying not to breathe or do anything to inhale the toxic air. Sol sighed and muttered, “Should’ve gotten Taka to do it.” He pulled on his red fingerless gloves and brought out a lighter from his pocket, and began to flick it on and off. “Alright, I’ll get there in a sec. Coming with?”

Again, she shook her head “no”, pulling her shawl on. “No thanks; I’ve seen enough,” she said coolly and quietly. “Burn him if you like, but he won’t give. There’s something haunting him.”

Sol watched her as she exited the lobby, head tilted in bewilderment. He scratched his scruffy beard. What did she mean by that? “Oh well,” he said to himself, taking off his gloves as he made his way up the stairs. Sol brushed the side of the wall with his finger, making a line of melted steel behind in his wake.

-

The wind whistled as Roya journeyed outside in the arctic weather; the sky was clear and bright. Her footsteps barely made an impression as she neared the forest. She felt at ease in the trees’ presense, instead of being surrounded by metals and unfamiliar materials.

It was a mile in her walk that she stopped at an old tree with wide snow covered branches. Effortlessly, she jumped up, latching onto the above branch, and swung up, landing solidly on her feet. She continued, mindful of the twigs and snow; not to disturb them in any way, until she landed on the highest branch, enabling her to peer down into the forest and have a clear view of the sky. She leaned against the trunk of the tree and sat down, placing her thin legs ahead of her.

Roya sighed, releasing forth a small puff of frozen, condensed air and gazed up at the sky, watching the faint aura that surrounded the full moon. She wondered what will happen to the Black Wolves when Lang gets a hold of Chaos, if he ever gets it. What will happen to her? I can easily walk away from this...but where will I go? This place is Hell, even if there is peace. But why am I here? A inhuman howl from the direction of the base dispelled her thoughts.

She sighed again as she began to think about the man she saw two nights ago. She felt as she met him once before already at that point. She tried to ponder on it some more. A chill ran down her spine.

-

The cargo plane sailed high above the Earth, blending seamlessly into the black night sky. The turbine engines sang an low, droning note, almost serving as a ambient noise. An oily aroma filled the double deck plane; the smell of not being used in a while. Ration bars and wrappers were strewn about, ranging from chicken teriyaki to beef stew in near the storage space.

Kento glared at the stack of cards before him, furrowing his hidden brows, occasionally glancing up to Shin, who sat across from him, and looking at him with a amused smile.

“You’re going to lose,” she said. “I’d quit if I were you.”

“You’d like that, huh?” Kento retorted with a smirk. He glanced over to her card that laid beside the deck of cards; a king and a ace – Blackjack. In his hand was a ten of clubs. He swiped the top card and tilted his head slightly with a frown.

Shin leaned forward. “Well?”

“It’s a push,” he said, sighing as he brought the cards down. “Still fair play though.”

“Hmm. How about this?” Shin shuffled the cards, springing them from hand to hand before splitting them into even stacks close together. “Highest sum for a pair of cards wins; values are still the same, but Jokers are auto zero. But,” she interjected as Kento reached for the cards, “same stack only.”

“Fine,” he said after a moment, letting his hand retreat. Hastily, he chose the right stack. Shin chose the left stack and her sapphire eyes widened.

“You don’t have much of a poker face. What d’ya get?”

“Six,” she said as she turned the cards over.

Kento bowed his head and showed her the cards. Shin sat back with a wide smile, pleased.

“Don’t worry, Ken. I’ll go easy,” she said, picking up the cards again. She started to shuffle them again, but stopped as she heard slow, deliberate footsteps ring above. “Is it time yet?” she asked, looking up at the ceiling to see a rather tall black-camoflauged man standing some ways above the two, looking down grimly.

“Yes, it is time,” Michael replied.
“Gear up.”

-

“We’re approaching the drop-off site; the weather is clear so you all don’t have to worry about being struck by a stray bolt of lighting, god forbid. However, there is an off chance of catching frostbite. You will be performing a Halo jump, the thirteen in the whole regimen. It’s the only way to infiltrate SrØkus; in addition you’ll have to take a little scroll. The base has an advanced security system installed in a six mile perimeter and anything beyond that will set it off.

“This is a stealth mission and you must find means of getting by without detection; engaging is the last option available. If you are captured by the enemy, you’re basically SOL, and thereby dead. Expect no rescue on my behalf, and don’t expect one from your fellow squadmates either. The mission comes first.

“Your mission is to rescue Racre Xander, neutralize the Black Wolves, find out anything on a new Project, then destroy it. As to my knowledge, there are no civilians with the sole exception of Mr. Xander. There is quite possibly a good chance that your current weaponry will not be enough, so I am allowing OSPs. Also, there might be working prototypes as well; consider yourselves honored to be among the first to use them.

“Good luck, and godspeed.”

-

“Cabin pressure stabilized,” Zigor announced. “Three minutes till the hatch opens.”

Kento tugged at the harness straps and checked the meters; granted the tiny glass that covered them was cracked and the pointer kept fidgeting. So much for that, he thought, frowning. “Hey Shin, make sure your meter is right,” he warned. “You too, Rowan. Ro?”

In a curious gesture, he looked over towards the back of the lower deck, almost obscured by the vertical rows of seats, to see Rowan reaching up for tiny fingers through the grill.

“Are you absolutely sure that you have it under control?” Meeko asked cautiously.

Rowan nodded slowly. “It hasn’t gotten out of hand.” Not yet anyway, he added silently.

“Well, just take this.” Meeko fished through her pockets to produce two blue pens marked with a tiny white caudues on the sides of each, and slid them both through the squares. “They’re stabilizers, just in cause you do have an episode, but you’ll have to be in range of an artery. It takes approximately thirty seconds for it to take effect, depending on circumstances; I only made two for the entire length of the mission, so please use them sparingly.”

He tucked the pens into his pocket and gazed up. “What if I’m...?” Rowan started.

Meeko shook her head. “It’ll still work; I’ve tested about a hundred times.”

“One minute left!” Zigor warned. “Wrap it up, Meeko!”

“Alright,” she called back. “Guess this is goodbye then. Good luck.”

Rowan nodded and made his way to the front, quickly donning the helmet and mask, and holstered his rifle to his back. “How long do you think this mission’ll take?” he asked.

“If all goes right, about three hours,” Shin answered,” One hour to save the guy, one hour to neutralize the terrorists, and one hour to destroy whatever the hell is down there. Besides, what can go wrong?”

A claxon squawked, drowning out the turbine engines and any other possible sound. The hatch at first popped open, taking some of the pressure away, before groaning as the door slowly crept down, letting arctic air race in. The door revealed a cloudless black sky dotted by stars stretching for eternity, showing the spherical shape of the Earth; the solid white ground shone from the light by the moon. It almost gave a feeling of no gravity and breathlessness despite having oxygen at hand.

“Holy hell,” Shin muttered as they approached the edge. “It’s beautiful. It’s almost like a dream.”

Oh, how I wish it was, Rowan thought as he gazed at the moon. He sighed.

“Alright, squad,” Kento said. “Let’s go.”

In unison, they leaned forward, and sprang from the edge. For what it seemed like an minute, they were suspended until gravity took over, pulling them down to the white Earth.