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Full Version: Comrade Kommrad vs Sir Piskat: Close Quarters Hardcore 24/7
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Alpha, Omega is clear.
Alpha copies, Omega is go for breach.
Omega breaching!
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With a muted bang, Omega enters the apartment block.

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"First floor clear!"
"Second floor clear!"
With the first two floors cleared, a calm voice chimes back into the PMCs communications network.
Affirmative Omega, relinquishing control to Omega 1-A. Good hunting.
  Setting his foot on the door, which is surprisingly in one piece, the small squads leader directs his charges. He sends a man to secure the door at the far end of the lobby as his mission details present themselves to his now conscious brain.
Nodding to himself, he lowers his rifle and waits for the Déjà vu to pass. His conscious and sub conscious thoughts finally meeting up always took a bit to get used to.
  The squads employer,Maleic inc.,had an interesting way of doing things. En route to a target, the missions details and all pertinent information would be uploaded to the brain, to be mulled over by the sub conscious mind. Upon arrival, the employees mind would be given back to him and he would be able to go on with the details of his mission imprinted deep in his mind.
Whilst the squad enters the building from downstairs, within an apartment room a rather brutal scene is unfolding behind close doors
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''I'm going to ask you nicely and maybe you'll live to see your pathetic 'family', now what's the name of the drug lord smuggling the chemicals into the country?''
''I'm not telling you, you vigilante piece of shit''
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''Where is he?''
''Fuck you, I spit on you''
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''O-Oh god ah! Oh god fuck you!''
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''TELL ME!''
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[Image: 379106d890.png] ''Pathetic...''

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''Well then, now onto the next lead...''
With the wailing cries of the bloodied corpse now silenced, Scott pulls down his hood as his arm slowly begins to shift in form yet again as he begins to leave the scene of the crime to continue his pursuit of the drug cartel that was plaguing the streets, HIS streets.
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The squad leader pauses and listens.
"Was that the target?"
"Scans showed there were only few living in this complex. Keep moving, floor by floor. Next live one is on the eighth floor."

Overlaying his current vision is a long scrolling screen, filled with what appears to be old newsclips and various notes.
It appears this area has been in the decline for years. All the well to do tenants have either moved out or been murdered after the local trade collapsed. This neighborhood seemed to run by a large crime syndicate.
Hoping today isnt 'tax' day, he checks his carbine and gets ready to climb more stairs.
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Scott continues down the hallway oblivious to the now advancing squad down below, who soon shall be pitted against him.
Spoiler :
Sorry the gif looks fairly choppy, next time I create a gif during a match I shall make sure to use more frames within it. This gif was more of a tester to see how it would look.
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'Here we go, heartbeats on the last few floors."
"ROE, on civvies?"
The squad leader pauses and shivers.
"Command says guns are free, ghost the rooms with extreme prejudice."
"Just what I wanted to fuckin hear, goin' live."
"Oorah, lets dust some junkies."
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Scott continues towards the staircase when he hears the chatter coming from down below, swiftly and silently he peers over the edge of the stairwell to see two heavily armed soldiers.
And with a quiet 'snikt' a small organic blade slides through his forearm just in case these strangers turn violent towards him.
Knock knock.
"Who de fuck is 'dere? I paid fiddy fer dis blow so yall better have a reas-"
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Two short, loud bangs.
"Room eleven cleared, movi-"
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The door down the hall opens and a man peeks out, steeping into the hallway.
"The fuck is with the nois-, HOLY FUCK"
The squad leader puts his rifle to his shoulder and squeezes the trigger twice. One in the groin, one in chest is enough to put most anyone down.
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He collapses into the door frame with a squelch.
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"Alright boys, lets move quick, doubt any of these junkie fuckers care about the noise but Ill hazard our contract does."
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Deciding that facing a group of heavily armed soldiers wouldn't do well to help his criminal record if they turned out to be some kind of police, Scott decides to head down the corridor to use a less conventional way of leaving the building.
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"Footsteps, next floor!"
Coming up to the top of the stairs, the squad leader sees a dark jacket.
Target. Contract. Preferably alive. 1.1 Million.
He is brought back to reality with the scream from one of his men.
"Runner, eight floor!
"Two, with me!Three, drop that fucker! This is our target!
Two of the mercs sprint after the running figure, with one trying to get a bead on him.
"No shot! clear yourselves and ill cap the fucker!"
"Negative, we need to keep after him!"
"Hes gonna run out of hallway!"
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With sweat dripping from his forehead and with a succession of rapid breaths, Scott's skin begins to tear as new flesh rips on through and with tremendous force scott bursts through the solid concrete wall with a loud bang. And as he realizes he's going to have to do something to stop his hulk from plummeting to the ground he simply utters ''Shit...''.
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Panting, the mercenaries reach the end of the hallway.
"Son of a bitch..."
Looking down on the plummeting shape, the squad leader catches his breath.
"Holy fuck, did he just..break that fuckin wall?"
"Calm your shit, lets get down there and help five out."

Meanwhile, five kicks that piece of shit door that refuses to open. Damn doors.
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Whilst Scott rapidly descends towards the cold concrete street floor his primal instincts quickly set in motion.
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'This better work...'

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And with a loud smash that echoes throughout the urban scene, Scott smashes into the glass window of the parallel building, leaving the cord of hardened flesh to hang on the side of the apartment.
Meanwhile, the remaining pieces of debris and flesh that were previously falling with him slam into the street with several thuds.
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With a final kick, the door opens.
"Dont make em like they used to-"
Fives rantings are cut short by smashing glass as something crashes through an above window.
"Son of a bitch!"
Five backs into the lobby, rifle pointed towards the street as gore slaps into the ground.

From across the street, four gestures with the barrel of his rifle.
"Four, the fuck are you doing?"
"The floor above you dumbass!"
"We're not spec ops, talk like a normal fucker!"
Four sighs and keeps his rifle trained on the window.

Meanwhile, upstairs.
"This shit is getting crazy one, the fuck is with this guy?"
"Yeah bro, you got any info on this fucker? He just turned his arm into a huge fuckin...fuck."
The squad leader pauses and points his blue 'eye' at his his two men.
"First, three, start makin some sense. English aint that hard. And second, I dont care who this asshole is, we're gonna kill the fucker and get our money, not care if he has grade A herpegonasyphilaids. We are gonna take him down, got me?"
His men nod their assent.
"Fuckin A, lets get up and across and see about coming down on this asshole from above."
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As Scott staggers to his feet, exhausted and weak from his full form, his hardened flesh begins to slowly unwind itself as a 'newborn' Scott slowly emerges. And as the final pieces of flesh slowly unwind he lets out an agonizing scream which echoes through and through the tall apartment complex.

Whilst Scott is transforming, his unattached pieces of flesh slowly begin to turn to ash alongside a bellowing cloud of steam which rises up releasing a strong odor of rotting flesh.
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The scream is amplified by the Mercs helmets, and they react accordingly. 

"Jesus FUCK"
"Awright, now I'm gonna kill that sonofabitch and use my pay to get me a new set of ears!"

In the upper part of the apartment building, the three mercs increase their pace.
"Aw shit, we gotta move now. Im gonna hazard that creepy fucker aint too happy about being chased."
"Lets go get this fucker, oorah!
The second merc stays silent, leading the way with white knuckles keeping the rifle pointed ahead.

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the second apartment the fifth merc pushes ahead up the stairs. This door didnt give him any trouble.
"I dont get paid enough for fucked shit like this."
The fourth hired man pounds across the street, deftly avoiding the steaming piles of...ash? He doesn't care, he has a job to do.
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Panting and dripping with a cold, thick sweat Scott stands in the corridor simply waiting.
And as he hears the footsteps of the approaching soldier, he slowly lowers a long spine of the thick, oddly coloured bone out of his wrist and hides it behind his back in case he can't talk his way out.

''I can hear you coming up those footsteps you fucking jarhead, and you better be ready to pull that trigger because if you think I am going to come quietly, you are so dearly mistaken!''

And with a brief snap and a disgruntled gasp of breath the long spine made out of the thick bone is now wrapped firmly in Scott's enclosed fist.
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Spoiler :
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5eRyzZJML78[/youtube] First 19 seconds is the magical musical accompaniment.
A slightly metallic voice, tinged with atleast a pack a day worth of smokes crawls out of the helmets speakers, hurling abuse.
"Motherfuckin' jarhead. Nice chap like me,a motherfuckin jarhead? Marines aren't my thing, pretty boy."
He says mockingly while advancing, he throws the last fail safe on his rifle off and aims.
"Now motherfucker, how you like the idea of a cap in your fuckin pretty face? Huh? How bout that?"
Five tightens his well used trigger finger.

Meanwhile, four charges through the lobby, wondering why five has to be such a dumbass.
Floors above, the rest of the squad continues to sprint to their payout.
"Its been a bit, how is five doing?"
"Gun is live and hes muted his channel. Fucker is in for it when we get down there."
"Goddamned dumbass, our squad cohesion bonus is going to be shit if he caps him!"
"Thats why we gotta move the fuck out. Keep this channel clean until you have something useful to say, hoorah?"
Two hoorahs and they continue.
Spoiler :
Mm, dat music
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Scott simply smirks and begins chuckling slightly.
''Jesus christ you sound like you're fucking gargling marbles you old fool''

Scott's smirk then slowly turns into a frown as he looks directly into the glowing visor of five.
''And now I'm guessing your client's briefing didn't quite sink in did it you inbred piece of shit. Because if it did you and your comrades would've went with a different tactic rather than rushing in guns blazing...''
Scott then points a firm finger at five and begins threatening him.
''Now you're going to turn around and call your squad mates off, or I'm going to feed you your own heart''
Spoiler :
for the music, just use the rest of the song :D
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"I might just tell them to back off, I want you for my fuckin self."
An evil smirk passes across fives scarred face.
"Ive had enough of your pretty boy ramblings, time to eat shit, MOTHERFUUUCKER!"
Five pulls the triggers, sending hot lead down the hallway. One round goes through his marks lower chest but he really doesnt seem to care. Good thing five brought a lot of bullets.

The rest of the squad hurries down the stairs, and they increase their pace when they hear the gunshots.
"That dumb motherfucker really screwed the pooch this time."
"Amen sarge, can I kill him when we get there?"
"If hes not dead already, go for it."

Four hurries up the stairs.
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Scott grunts in pain as the bullets enter his stomach, and as he slowly gains his posture, his fleshy tentacles slowly wrap around the wounds and smother them in a thick overlaying skin stopping most of the blood-flow.
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Scott then continues his gaze into five's visor as a deeper and more disgruntled voice utters from his lips.
''Well then, my abusive friend, I guess now it's my turn...''
And then, with a swift and unexpected movement he throws the long spine hurtling towards five...

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And Slice, the spine tears on through five's armour as he staggers backwards, shocked.
''Why can't you people just leave me be...''
Spoiler :
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Five looks at the spike in his chest. He notes that it went all the way through his chest armor. That's interesting.
He looks up at his target. That son of a motherfucking bitch just put a spike in his chest.

And with that he falls flat on his face, blood trickling out of the hole in his chest.

The rest of the squad link up and push through the doorway.
"Holy fuckin' christ, that dumbfuck is dead!"
"I dont give a shit about him, I give a shit about that fucking payday at the end of the hall!"
"Amen brother, lets pop this fucker and go home."
A small light appears on the squads displays.
They raise their rifles and activate the rifles laser sight. Three dots dance around on the marks body. One is right between the eyes.
The squad leader moves through his men, his weapon slightly lowered.
"Im going to be blunt. Motherfucker, there is a chance you will be having a very,very bad day in a few short moments. However, there is a chance you could have a pretty okay day if you let us take you. No fight, no problems, no more ventilation holes in ya. Now, I dont really give a single fuck about this douche you just wacked. So thats the only reason I'm not scooping you into a fuckin bucket right now, catch me? Now come on, lets go all nice and peacefully now."
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Scott straightens himself up as he begins to consider their offer. Maybe taking him to their employer may not be such a bad idea after all?
''Hm, well fine. But before I even consider coming with you, I'd like some thorough answers. Firstly- Who are you working for?, and secondly- If I do come with you I presume you are taking me to your employer directly?''
There is an awkward silence as the squad leader tries to figure out  what his mark just said.
Did he just agree to being captured? The fuck is up with this guy.
"Thank fucking god, you're worth more alive than dead."
For dramatic effect, he makes a crushing motion with his hand.
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Scott looks like he is going to say something, but then three large farts filled with some viscous black fluid are shot from the under barrel mounts of the rifles and thump into his body. His eyes widen with shock as he plumets to the floor.
"That was the most beautiful thunking noise ive ever heard, I love this thing"
"I knew you were fucked two, but come on man."
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"Holy fuck this bastard is heavy, whats this guy fucking eat? He weighs more than me with full plate!"
"Oh really? I didnt have a fucking clue after metric fuckton of whining that spilling out of your shitty face while we went up those stairs."
"Fuck you too, now where to, homeward bound?"
"Nah, the pilot says we're going to meet the contractor. Deliver this fuckhead right to him."
"Just what I wanted, more upper class rich assholes to talk to. Hoo fucking ray."
"Just get him in the Oppressor and we get the fuck out of this shithole."
"Oorah, could I get a little help?"
"Nope.Cant get no body stank on me."
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As Scott's body is dragged and slumped into the aircraft it slowly arises into the air and blasts off with a thunderous roar into the distance.
But what was to become of Scott as he was held willingly in the clutches of the mercenaries?
And just who was this mysterious contractor?...

All shall be revealed soon enough dear Picture-warvians.
Is this finished? Can we finally add something to the finished matches forum?
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