Horrors of War(9)

Inside the apartment building, Ramsey and Simmons hurried along the third-floor corridor, searching for an exit as the fire spread, and smoke began to cover the ceiling.

"We need to get out of this inferno," Ramsey said, coughing.

"From where exactly?!" Simmons asked loudly, both stopping suddenly as they noticed an elevator at the end of the hallway with its lights still on.

"That might work," Ramsey said as they rushed to the elevator and closed the doors behind them.

Simmons leaned against the wall, finally taking a moment to rest after hours of being chased. "God, I've never felt this relieved," he said, catching his breath.

"There's no time to relax, Simmons," Ramsey cautioned. "You should know that there are enemies everywhere. You either stand your ass up or you'll die in this warzone."

"Oh, come on, Ramsey. We're in an elevator. No sign of enemies for a second," Simmons said dismissively.

Ramsey gave Simmons an annoyed look. "There could be. You've been with the Foundation for a decade, you should know better than to drop your guard and-" she began to say, but she was startled when the elevator doors opened to reveal a machete swinging down at her.

She instinctively stepped back, avoiding herself being decapitated but tripping in the process, only to have Simmons caught her just in time.

They turned to face the attacker, and their eyes met the undead stare of Jason Voorhees.

"..."

"Oh my God, it's the legendary Jason Voorhees himself." Simmons murmured in disbelief.

"The slasher?! Here?!" Ramsay exclaimed in shock. Having watched many Friday the 13th films, she didn't expect her favorite serial killer would be here standing before her.

As Jason approached, they quickly regained their footing and fired their handguns at him, but the bullets had no effect due to his undead and immortal nature.

"Of course, bullets won't work," Simmons muttered.

Jason swung his machete horizontally at Simmons and Ramsey as he reached them, but they ducked and slid between his legs before sprinting down the corridor as Jason followed them, his pace unrelenting.

"Looks like we'll have to take the stairs," Ramsey said, opening a door in front of her that led to a flight of stairs descending to the ground floor.

As they rushed down the stairs and reached the ground floor, they opened a door to the ground-floor corridor, only to find Jason had somehow already reached there as he swung his machete again. The two dodged, but Simmons received a deep slash mark on his shoulder.

"AHH!" he cried out.

In response, Ramsey swiftly drew a combat knife and stabbed Jason through the chin, momentarily stunning him. Taking advantage of the opening, Simmons and Ramsey dashed down the corridor, only to find the exit door blocked. Spotting an open window, they jumped through it and landed in an alleyway outside the building.

"Hey!"

Hearing a familiar voice, they turned to see Rip, Carson, and Zorin strapped to Rip's back.

"Come on! We're leaving!" Rip called out.

As the group regroups, they attempt to leave the alleyway but halt when they see Project Jaeger standing in their way.

"This guy just won't quit!" Simmons shouted.

As Project Jaeger slowly approached the group, he simply removed his tattered leather mask to reveal his face.

It has a massive, imposing stature with a muscular build with deathly pale skin and had the CI logo tattooed on the back of his head. Its appearance is terrifying and grotesque, featuring a partially deformed, scarred face with glowing, intense blood-red eyes. His most distinguishing feature was from its lower jaw which is made of complete metal to its body beneath its large black trench coat that exposed its advanced cybernetic parts that were interspersed with grayish, marred flesh, stitched and stapled together. It is equipped with heavy weaponry such as a rocket launcher or flamethrower, and it possesses a large tentacle that could extend longer from its body.

(A/n: Yes, this is a Chaos Insurgency nemesis and SCP style humanoid Bio weapon fueled by two biohazard SCP's (008 & 610) and one other non-biohazard SCP which will be revealed later)

"F O U N D A T I O N!"

"So he's basically the Chaos Insurgency's version of Nemesis, who knew," Simmons remarked.

Carson added, "Mixed with two biohazard SCPs like 008 and 610. Gotta admit, it's kind of creative."

"I don't think those are the only SCPs involved in creating that thing," Ramsay said, examining the monstrosity.

As Project Jaeger prepared to approach them with the intent to tear them apart, Jason suddenly appeared behind Jaeger out of nowhere and stabbed him in the back with his machete.

Jaeger roared in pain and tried to retaliate, but Jason grabbed his arm and judo-slammed him into the ground.

"Jason?!" Carson exclaimed in surprise.

"Let them duke it out, we're leaving," Ramsay ordered, and the group ran away from the scene.

With a powerful blow, Jaeger punched Jason in the face, launching him crashing into a distant wall and trembling the building upon impact. Picking up the machete from the ground, Jaeger proceeds to impale Jason to the wall with it.

Jaeger then turned his attention back to the group, but found they had already fled. As he searched for them, Jason struggled to remove the machete from the wall. Once he freed himself, he saw that Jaeger and the group were already gone.

"..."

There is no frustration nor any sound emanating from Jason as he simply walked off to search for them again.

———————————————————

Ramsey, Simmons, Carson, and Rip, who was still carrying Zorin's head, continued running down the streets, trying to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the two monsters they had encountered earlier. After long minutes of running, everyone stopped to catch their breath, all of them feeling exhausted except for Rip and Zorin, who barely felt fatigued due to their vampiric nature.

"Well, *pants* Jason's here, and big boy Jaeger there like a new model of Nemesis," Carson commented with a light chuckle. "Kinda cool, not gonna lie."

"Will you just shut up?" Rip snapped.

"Guys, stop for today!" Simmons interjected. "Your little arguments are what attract them to us!"

"No! I've tolerated him enough, Simmons! He's nothing but a jokester and a coward!" Rip said, jabbing her finger into Carson's chest. "I'm surprised your organization even keeps this buffoon around."

"..."

Carson stayed silent, but Rip continued, "So, Carson, before I decide you're not worth keeping in this war, tell me why you act like such a fool!"

Grumbling beneath his breath, Carson couldn't hold back his confession any longer.

"I'm afraid damn it!"

As he spoke, the overcast sky opened up, and the rain began to pour down on the group, punctuating the heavy silence that settled around them, creating a dramatic and somber backdrop for his confession.

Rip raised an eyebrow, puzzled by his outburst. "What?"

"I am what I am, because in reality, I'm afraid," Carson said, his voice full of frustration and vulnerability, "The first time I joined the Foundation, I expected a bit of adventure, laughter, and enjoyment with guys I'll be working with, but let me tell you it was no adventure but more than a nightmare. My first mission ended up in a bloodbath and I ran, ran like a damn coward because I couldn't face the horrors I encountered. It was nothing like what I was hoping for."

"..."

He paused, letting his words sink in as the rain continued to fall. Rip listened, surprised by Carson's admission and the raw honesty in his voice. The group, too, seemed taken aback by his sudden openness, perhaps realizing that his lighthearted demeanor was a mask for deeper fears.

After a pause, he continued, "After that mission my fear stricken was the only thing I came back to the Foundation and others started calling me a coward, so I wore this helmet to hide my shame ever since and tried to mask my fear by making jokes and puns in serious situations. It became a coping mechanism, but it also helped me gain acceptance as someone who laughs in the face of danger."

"But the truth is, the tension when dealing with an SCP never left me. When I left Lawrence on the iceberg, I was giving in to my cowardice. I let him face the Sleep Killers alone to make a flashy entrance for the MTF crew and hide the fear in my eyes. As for that fox bitch, SCP-953, during her capture with Ramsey, I made jokes and kept my helmet on so no one would see my fear, even though it pissed her off because of her grudge against the SCP for her boyfriend's death and the gravity of the situation."

As Carson poured out his heart, the group listened silently and absorbed his words. His confession painted a picture of vulnerability and self-doubt that clashed with his usual jokester persona. This revelation marked a turning point for Carson, as he confronted his fears and insecurities in front of his peers.

"..."

"I'm just trying to hide my fear, insecurities, and vulnerability because in the world of SCPs, there is no joy or happiness, only fucking fear, death, and bloodshed but I treat it like a damn joke. I mask my fears with jokes and puns, even though it annoys others. I know it makes me seem weak in their eyes, but I can't help it. I'm a coward who runs away and leaves people behind, cracking jokes to hide my fears even when I shouldn't, knowing full well this organization brings nightmares on your face on a daily basis."

After finally sharing what he had kept hidden for so long, Carson sat down on a nearby bench as the rain continued to pour down around the group, who absorbed Carson's confession and watched him sobbing behind his helmet. His vulnerability and raw honesty took them by surprise, revealing a side of him they had never seen before.

Rip, who was incredibly annoyed and angered earlier, softened as she processed what Carson had said. Seeing him break down and express his fears brought a sense of empathy to her. Ramsay also took in his words thoughtfully, looking down and felt a pang of sympathy.

Simmons and Zorin exchanged glances, both taking in the raw vulnerability Carson had expressed and realized that they hadn't fully understood the depth of his struggles. His humorous facade had hidden his true fears and insecurities.

Rip removed her helmet and took a seat next to Carson on the bench. The cloudy sky meant the sun wouldn't burn her, and she took the opportunity to show her face.

"Go on," Carson said, sobbing. "Yell at me. Tell me I'm pathetic. Why did you stop?"

Rip sighed. "It's okay to be afraid."

"Hm?" Carson looked up, taken aback by her response.

"Fear is part of being human. It's just one of the many emotions we all experience. Being afraid doesn't make you weak or a coward. It's a natural reaction. If you hide your emotions behind a helmet, no one can understand what you're going through, Carson. I know fear too, and do cry especially when Alucard suddenly went kamikaze on the ship I was on. But I didn't hide my emotions behind a mask. I faced him anyway, knowing full well my fate was sealed from the beginning."

"..." Carson remained silent, absorbing her words.

"Carson, you can make jokes, puns, and one-liners when the moment demands it, but you can't hide your emotions forever. Doing so will only harm you mentally and physically, and it may cause friction with those around you."

Ramsey walked over to Carson and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "Rip is right, you know, even though she used to work for the worst scum on the earth."

"No, no. You two have every right to call me either a Nazi bitch or a racist whore."

"Oh right, you just said something racist to me." Ramsay recalled.

"My apologize, old hobby of mine," Rip said apologically with a grin, "But still, calling me a fag was not nice."

"I'm sorry," Carson said.

"Don't be," Rip replied, her tone softened, "But we have to hold together in this war because if we fall apart now, the Forsaken wins and we lose."

Carson took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Good," Rip said. "Now let's-"

"Uhhhh Guys, I found Delta-4," Simmons called out from the end of the street.

The group hurried to Simmons and saw the sight he had found, which was that the members of the MTF team and their commander they came with, were lying dead on the ground. The scene was sobering, bringing the gravity of their situation back to the forefront.

"You think Jason or the Jaeger got them?" Ramsay asked with concern.

"Maybe," Simmons replied, his tone equally somber. "So, what do we do now?"

"We're on our own I guess," Carson said, looking around. "Contacting reinforcements is a no-go, given the disrupted signals."

Rip nodded in agreement. "That's true, which means we'll have to pave the way for reinforcements to arrive ourselves."

"You got a plan?"

"Its simple really. First, we need to take out the anti-aircraft positions and use anything to realign the radio frequencies," Rip explained, "Once we've secured San Francisco, we'll head to Santa Clara Valley and reach Site-15 for additional support."

"Let's get moving, then," Simmons urged, and they set off.

As they walked along the deserted street, Rip glanced at Carson.

"Hey, Carson," Rip said.

"Yeah?"

"..I want to apologize for being a dick to you in some scenarios."

Carson shook his head. "Nah, you were just being serious. I've been through a lot, so your apology is accepted."

"Thanks," Rip responded with a nod.

"I'm surprised you spoke to him that way," Zorin whispered from her position on Rip's back.

"Humans are fragile creatures, Zorin. They can make or break easily. We need to maintain order rather than fall into disarray," Rip replied.

"But we're not human," Zorin pointed out.

"True, but our emotions are proof, I guess that we have some humanity left within us even after 80 years."

"...Perhaps," Zorin mused.

"But our purpose remains the same: a meaningful death."