SCAR: The Rise of Yog Sothoth (NC-17) (H)

[The Comedian]

Ethan limped along, trying to keep along with the group. His skin burned, and his eyesight was never returned. Ethan could see, however, with his power returned to him. The brief time without it, however, he was forced to hold on to someone's clothing. Who ever it was.

He saw the world, now, in a strange way. Everything was blue, with an ominous glow. The sky was black as pitch, all though Ethan didn't even know if there was a sky in the portal. Buildings, different objects, and people all were lit in a different form of the color.

Some were brighter than others, and some strange markings were visible on almost everything. Again, though, Ethan didn't know if that related to the portal. It was like a more powerful version of his former power. Like it unlocked some sort of full potential. Or maybe he's returning to his former self? He still never got a chance to talk to Claire about what was happening in his head...

She felt it, Andrew probably did too. Ethan had the memories, and the eerily obvious deja vu. He had to face the truth; he's not who he thinks he is. He's not a bullied kid, who was pushed into running away and into SCAR. He was special, but not as much as he thought.

Ethan was a burn victim who's body rotted away in a place deep, deep underground. Is that why his skin burned? Would his skin melt away, and turn into what it used to look like? Would Ethan lose his face. So many questions, no time to ask, no time to wait for answers. His scariest thought, who was his family?

The ground pulsed below his feet. A blue circle came from underneath him, and moved across the ground like a sonar. He knew nobody else saw it. There was something large, something massive, something huge holding open a gigantic portal. That was when something unspeakable happened...

Ethan stood before hundreds, probably thousands of demons and monsters who flew from the now-fallen portal. It was him and the operatives, staring at the end of the world. He kind of wished they could see it like him, and he could see it like them.

He raised his gun, and held down the trigger. The small squad started to take down the unnameable's all around. Impossible odds, but incredible determination. Ethan could count the life forces around, and which ones were on his side.

"Twenty-Six." He mumbled, as he dropped his gun. There wasn't enough time to reload the damned thing. He reached to his shoulder, and pulled the Silver Flyssa from it's sheath.

Was it useless? Probably. Did it matter to Ethan? No. He spun around the blade, killing as many of the creatures as he could. He counted the dropping life forces by his hand, "One, two, three, fo-" The Flyssa was shattered, and flung from his hand.

Ethan was knocked back, far from whatever had knocked the sword from him. He wasn't even in the pile anymore; he was away from the fight. He coughed up blood, which was common in his line of work. He watched, as the glowing, blue monster hurriedly sped up to him.

He shuffled, and tried to crawl back. Ethan felt his legs scream in pain, and his ribs tingled. He got hit hard. As the monster closed in, Ethan reached into a pouch on his heavy armor. He pulled out a single Semtex grenade.

The monster just seconds away, Ethan chuckled, "Fucking grenade." He tossed it into the air. High enough so it wouldn't hit the ground, but just right so it would probably take out Ethan and the beast.

It beeped faster, as it dropped finally, and the monster drew closer. Probably just a few feet above Ethan's body, the grenade exploded mid-air.

[Kirra]

His body wouldn't stop shaking. As the demons pored forth and Yog Sothoth grew to astronomic size, the flashes of his past came back to him. A demon was here to take the world into darkness. He knew it was coming. The pieces of the demons history finally started to form properly in his mind. And one name kept appearing in his head. "Cthulu. He has come to devour the world."

He could stop his shaking, and then he went fetal. Curled up in ball on the floor. Chase knew now that the memories he had see, would now happen in both worlds. The world around him falling apart, Chase let his mind slip into darkness. He senses began to shut down. He could no longer hear the cry of the demons. He could no longer voice his own cry. He could no longer see the events around him. He could no longer smell the death and decay. He could no longer feel the world around him. Everything was black.

"It appears I have blacked out." Chase stood up. No longer his normal depressing slouch. An air of confidence seemed to surround him. "Multiple aggressive targets acquired. Attacking clearance not needed." Chase's words had no emotion in them. He no longer seemed to be effected by the situation. "Lethal force acceptable."

Chase scanned over the unnameable. He knew they couldn't take them all, but he would take down as many as possible in the process. He watched for a moment as the other operatives starting killing the creatures. So they do die. That was good news. Chase grabbed his swords.

Chase waited as the disgusting forms came to him. When the first one got in range, Chase shifted his stance slightly. "Killing strokes." Chase swung his blade from beneath the creature and sliced it strait up. Once its body separated, Chase stepped forward and swung his swords. It hit perfectly to decapitate two more of the creatures.

Out of the corner of his eye, Chase saw one of the black forms behind Vee. She didn't see it there. Chase called out. "Vee!" He quickly attached a wire to one of his daggers and threw it at the creature. The blade pierced the creatures head and kept flying. Chase called out. "Run with that."

Vee turned with the knife, watching as it seemed to creep past her face. She didn't waste her breath replying, snatching the knife from the the monsters scull and slashing the nearest throat.

Chase continued to slice down the dark creatures and moved with the attached wire to wrap it around some of them. He knew that once Vee gave it a good tug, it would slice through them. As the creatures started to close around him, Chase took a few steps back. He hated to loose his ground, but knew it was necessary.

Vee jerked the wire, offering a bit of a smile to Chase. She tried not to let the knowledge that was surely about to die weigh her down.

As the cord went taunt, Chase watched as the creatures fell to the ground. Twenty, maybe thirty had been felled by Chase. But for everyone, there seemed to be two to takes it's place. Chase sliced through a few more of the demons. If it where not for is broken mind, he would have wanted to give up. Chase made his way around the demons, wrapping up new ones for each he sliced through. But the numbers only increased. Chase found him self subconsciously moving closer to Vee, trying to prevent more from getting to her.

[Mysteria]

Everything had happened so fast that Shane wasn't even exactly sure what all had happened. She'd no sooner woke up bound in chains in what had appeared to be a dark cave and had been trying to focus her eyes and ears when all hell seemed to break loose. How her hands had been freed or who had freed them she wasn't exactly sure, she just knew that she was free and that she had to do whatever she could to help stop the approaching horde of unnamed.


"Gear up, ladies. Your shit is in the crate. Double time!" Shane dove for the crate pulling out her glock and coming back up in a roll she slammed in the clip and before even coming to her feet was knocking undead down at a furiuos rate. "one, two, three" Fuck! There were far too many to keep count and not near enough of time. There wasn't time for anything.

There was no time to search for more ammo. They'd probably taken it all from her pockets anyhow. There was no time for thinking. Hell, there was just no time at all. Shane had been on many SCAR missions before but nothing had ever been this....STRANGE. All she could do was role with it and hope that they all didn't die but just in case she did the only thing she could think to do. She began reciting Psalm 23 "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." If Shane was going to die, she was going to do it with no fear.

Click. The glock was empty. They'd been told not to use their powers but now it seemed that Kristy knew even if Shane couldn't remember how she had come to know. Things were still so fuzzy in her mind. The only thing Shane knew was how to use her own powers and hope it didn't destroy them all and her along with it. Shane could feel the heat rising in her fingertips as she willed it to begin. Within seconds she felt the flames dancing on the tips and with a forceful blow she pushed it forward into the oncoming unnamed. With small bursts of fireballs being hurled into the advancing horde she kept shooting flames until it felt like her entire body would self combust but she kept going. Even if she had to die, it didn't matter as long as her fellow operatives made it out alive. Shane tried to get in front of the other operatives the best that she could so she wouldn't inadvertently hurt any of them with her flames the way she had that innocent oh so many years ago.

She would literally go down in flames first, if that is what it took.

[Security of Mem]

The minds and events of the situation were merely flashes in Lyrico's mind. He hadn't felt so much lost of control in a long time. And the breathing techniques he adopted weren't exactly helping. Hell he hadn't even tried breathing to calm down. First they were overrun by beast, then they fought cultist, caught, and went to a portal. And now a Goliath was standing in front of them Yog Sothoth. Or whatever the fuck it was.

Monsters galore as if they heard of a great sale at a shopping spree. They had no names and they definitely looked like beast. Lyrico bit his tongue for a moment and found himself licking his lip. As if an animal instinct was awakening in himself. This feeling had been a feeling so gone lost. So gone forever. He had suppressed these urges after leaving the mental ward. He had supressed the jackal that truly bred into his heart and in his desires. Lyrico could barely handle himself. He was finding himself falling off rough edges, edges in his life he had thought he had cleared with a bridge.

As the monsters began to attack so did the operatives and so did Lyrico. But every battle every death was taking great feats. And it was because of the control he was trying to handle in a battle that had no control. He needed to be the leveled and valued object in here. And yet he couldn't. He just couldn't level himself. He shot a creature with his bullet. He shot another and another. But he was getting fed up.

He changed the novel of his shotgun and let the fuels begin to lick the hide of whatever fowl beast these were. He let the flames dance from the metal nib it flowed out of. His mind bending like the flames dancing. And if the beast came closer he ripped the beast in half with his powers. He could feel his mind and everything of his going animal. He may not be transforming into anything, but his mind had no more results of reality.

Trish, I did something bad

That's okay cause someone else will consider what you did heroic

But what if it wasn't heroic

That's okay as well, you're learning, no one should have to blame you

What if I blame myself

You shouldn't though

Why not?

I'm not sure, maybe you can answer it

Should I answer it? I know what I'm going to say.

Is it a bad thing to think that way?

I don't know any more, I think I think...I feel such guilt...no one needed to punish me to know I would feel guilt all on my own

That's cause you're better now

Am I better?

His hand went inside the beast body. He liked to feel if it were cold or warm. But he couldn't put a name to it. He wanted to experiment on the functions of its body. He wanted to know how ever bit of its systems worked. He shoved his shotgun in its mouth. Gave it pleasure before it died. Gave himself pleasure with the blood splattered. He had truly lost himself. And he wondered too. He wondered a great deal.

Trish, am I really here now?

I suppose you are

Then why does it feel so real and yet so unreal

Maybe because you're trying to reject a biological impulse

But the biological impulse is wrong

Is it?

Why are you asking me?

Because only you know the answers

So much for help

I can't help you, you need to help yourself

Trish

Yeah

Am I, is, is everything I'm perceiving my life my world, alive?

Maybe

Lyrico stared at his hands, his shotgun. He stared at the bodies. And wondered he just wondered. He killed and he wondered. And he worried. Was this normal? Or was this wrong? Was what he saw reality or fantasy?

[Cookies Ahoy]

Kristy followed the others into the portal, albeit a little hesitant this time. She was astounded at what she saw. More monsters, Wilbur Whately was still alive for a time, and the squid creature was still alive. Andrew made a valiant sacrifice, and closed the portal Yog-Sothoth was rising from. What was left was an enormous amount of unnameable. Many of the operatives went straight into the bulk of the mob.

Kristy thumbed through her remaining ammo supply. She had a magazine for her M16, the five shells left in her shotgun, and six rounds for the magnum. Things weren't looking good for anyone. Nobody was going to give up though, they were all soldiers and they all had the duty to fight. Kristy started shooting at the stragglers on the sides of the mob, hoping to block the operatives from being flanked. She slowly walked a large arc, trying to shoot as she did so.

A familiar click sound came from Kristy's gun. She dropped it, letting the sling catch the weight while she quickly switched to her shotgun. Sliding the pump arm easily, Kristy began to shoot the electric shells at the mob. The lightning jumped from enemy to enemy. It was effective, but not for long. Another click sound. Kristy yelled in frustration. She dropped the gun onto the ground and pulled out the magnum. Six shots was all she had left. The magnum bucked hard as the high powered round came out the barrel, tearing huge holes into the unnameable. Another click. Kristy threw the handgun at an unnameable in frustration. It was a rather ineffective attack, but she was angry. All the operatives had given it more than one-hundred percent, and it still didn't look like they would make it.

We're not going to make it, Kristy thought, Shut up, don't stop fighting until you can't.

Kristy pulled out her knife and slashed wildly at the first unnameable she reached. The knife sliced through it's skin easily. Kristy saw an arm lash out at her in the corner of her eye. Instinctively she grabbed it with her telekinesis, then quickly spun and cut at the arm. She desperately attacked the enemies closest to her, Kristy stopped thinking about the odds of the groups survival. The only thing that mattered now was to give it all.

[mere]

Yakim pulled his head away from the hundreds of enemies and dropped to the ground. He placed the weapon he had taken off a dead cultist next to him and pulled the trigger. He heard the bullets fly right next to his ear and nearly screamed in pain from the volume. He had no idea if any of his shots where even hitting the enemy, but he kept firing anyway. He soon heard a clicking sound and became even more frustrated. "Damn it!"

Yakim brought himself to his knees and took a deep breath. He realized that the situation was hopeless, and that worrying about the visions was stupid. He stood up and faced the creatures, ready for his final moments at battle.

Are you ready?

"I would shut the fuck up right now," Yakim mumbled.

Lets go through this, Yakim. Do you want to spend your final moments in a battle you know you are going to lose?

Yakim ignored the voice. He knew it would only keep himself distracted and away from the battle. He readied the weapon into a good melee position and ran into the first group of creatures he saw. Their images flooded his mind and he nearly fell back from the activity in his mind.

He swung the weapon and felt it impact with one of the creatures, causing it to reel back in pain. He tried the same move on another creature, but it caught the gun and pulled it away from Yakim. He struggled as more creatures came at him and forced him to the ground.

This is how it ends, Yakim.

Yakim kicked one creature off but more came to take it's place. "No!" Yakim yelled.

Well, this is how it should end.

"Fuck you! Burn in Hell you son of a bitch!"

This is how I save you.

The creatures stopped. Yakim stopped. Time stopped.

This is how I become your allie.

Yakim watched as the creatures around him disintegrated and their ashes fly upward.

This is how I die. Goodbye, Yakim.

The ashes spread out above him and fell to the ground.

See you in Hell, Yakim.

[StormWolf]

Malcolm ran the portal with the rest of the squad. Needless to say, he had a very bad feeling about this. Coming through on the other side, Malcolm's body was wracked by tremors. No longer did the Mark on his shoulder just throb, but his entire body did, as if he was a giant heart.

The Chaplain watched helplessly as Andrew cast himself into the portal, a martyrdom that closed the portal, trapping Yog Sothoth where it belonged. Still, thousands of rabbling unnamable looked at the SCAR operatives like lunch. Malcolm cocked his M4 and brought it to his shoulder.

Chaos engulfed them. The only sounds that reached Malcolm's ears was the sounds of battle; the rattling of gunfire, the zipping of blades through flesh, and the cries of the dying.

There is much death here. I come. that eerily cold voice said in a perfect calm inside Malcolm's head. That voice filled the Chaplain with vehemance and vigor, a will to fight. A will to survive. The M4 made a series of clicks as the clip went empty. Without a sound or a twitch, the Chaplain slung his rifle and pulled out his beretta, since Claire still had his DEagle.

There is too much evil here. I come to cleanse. the voice grew harsh, angry, and hateful.

The beretta went dry and Malcolm dropped the weapon without a second throught. As the Chaplain reached for his combat blade, a mob of unnamable swarmed him, the Chaplain vanishing in a mess of decrepit grey flesh and tentacles. He didn't even scream. Malcolm snarled and fought back with fists and feet while the unnamable ripped at him with barbed tentacles.

"Lord, have mercy on my wreched soul." Malcolm spat through bloody teeth as he pulled all of the pins from the remaining grenades on his belt. The Chaplain closed his eyes and relaxed.

There was a deafening boom as the grenades went off, eradicating the swarm that was surrounding Malcolm. Claire pulled her blades free from a torso of a fallen enemy and stared in horror of the spectacle around her. Malcolm and Andrew where dead, Ethan was down, and the others fought tooth and nail for survival. Thousands of unnamable still thronged around them. There was only one thing left to do.

Claire pulled the intercom device from her belt, her thumb floating over the switch for a moment before activating the signal. It would all be over soon; the nuke was on its way. With a heavy heart and fire in her blood, Claire took up her weapons and began to charge again.

A sharp ring sounded in the air, having no source, like the air itself was making the sound. The ringing only got louder and louder; stronger and stronger. The unnamable screeched in agony at the unbearable sound. The ringing started to tax the others as well, the sound rattling their bones. The ground trembled and the four winds blew with torrential force. The sky went dark with clouds as lightning stuck the same place again and again: the spot of Malcolm's death.

"The time is not right. I am here. All those who hold wickedness in thy hearts shalt cower before me." that cold voice rang out, the ringing unbearable and the very earth seemed to tremble in fear.

A pillar of pure light smashed into the earth, where Malcolm had died. The very air shook as the pure light fell from the heavens. Any unnamable near the light simply blinked out of existance. In that blinding light, a dark shape emerged just before the light went out.

Claire and the others stared in disbelief at what stood before them. Malcolm stood there, bare from the belt up, muscled torso not moving as it should when one was breathing. His eyes were rolled back in his head and glowed brightly. Out of his back, there where two massive angel wings the color of freshly spilt blood. The inochian sigils carved into his bones glowed and shone like hot iron on his skin.

"Unclean." the reconstructed, angelic Malcolm said in a calm and cold voice filled with contempt for the evil spawn before him. He raised his hand calmly, glaring at the unnamable with those glowing white eyes.

"I smite thee in the name of the Lord." he said in a voice that was his, but not his. It was coupled with a deeper and colder voice and a eerie whispers. Malcolm closed his eyes and opened them once more, the glow replaced with holy fire.

With a symphony of shrieks, the legions of unnamable exploded in gory fountains, like waterballoons filled with chunky soup. The screams were not nearly as horrible as the sight. All was quiet now, the unnamable all smitten. Malcolm looked about himself, observing the gore as if he was prospecting drying paint.

"Your brother made a saintly sacrifice, Claire. For that, he shall be rewarded." Malcolm's wings brought him into the air and set him down by where the portal once was. The fire faded from his eyes as Malcolm clasped his hands together and bowed his head. Whispers could be heard on the wind in the dead silence.

Malcolm vanished, then blinked back into existance before Claire. "Your brother has been returned to his body, soul and memories intact." that voice was cold enough to freeze fire. He looked her in the eyes, the blue iris' glowing faintly.

"You all have proven your worth, and you all have caught Father's attention. We have plans for you, Heaven has plans for all of you." A whistling could be heard as the nuke fell towards the earth at alarming speeds. Malcolm's face was relaxed, a small semblance of a smirk.

"You humans are a strange and wonderous bunch, so vain with your claims to power," Malcolm raised his hand towards the approaching nuclear bomb, that smirk, but do not even entertain the thought that you are greater than Heaven."

The nuke was about to reach the proper altitude for detonation when it deconstruct in mid-flight, breaking down to its most basic elements, eventually vanishing. The angelic Malcolm scanned all of the SCAR operatives, his wings spreading wide.

"It is time for you to go home." he said coldly, all of the operatives were consumed by light and transported back to Three Mile Island.

[John]

To say that Claire was astounded, would be understating things. Not only did she have her brother back body and soul, Malcolm apparently was possessed by an angel. And it was because of this, the operatives found themselves back at the base.

They we’re standing outside of the nuclear reactor which housed the base. It was good to be home. Claire silently mourned those they had lost. Thoughts of Patrick and Hywel danced in her mind. They had not come through the portal and were nowhere to be seen now. She didn’t know if they were dead, but couldn’t help feeling that they might still show up later. It was a fool’s hope, but hope nonetheless.

When the angel had destroyed the Unnameable, she saw the Necronomicon destroyed. The mission was complete and successful by SCAR’s standards. And Claire lay on the ground and stared into the blue sky overhead, exhausted and happy.

Epilogue

The room was dark, save for the small amount of illumination over the large round table in it’s center. Sitting around the table were thirteen people, their faces shrouded in shadow. The sounds of murmuring could be heard, and suddenly stopped when the voice of a little girl emanated form one of the corners of the room

“You are fools,” the voice sneered. “Especially you Alastair. I told you that Whately wasn’t up to the task. Once again, you have failed me.” When the voice stopped speaking, one of the men at the table stood up.

“He may have failed Lilith,” Alastair’s voice was confident. “But it changes nothing. In fact, I think it will make things easier for us.”

“You are a fool. Claire Hannon and her pathetic friends will be the death of us all.” Lilith’s voice now echoed throughout the room and a growl sounded behind the voce. “Your over confidence will be your undoing.”

“I assure you Lilith,” Alastair’s voice was wavering slightly. “Claire Hannon will die. And then our father’s son will be free to destroy the world.”

“Still, I feel I must take certain precautions.” Lilith stepped into the light. “I think it’s time for me to have a little fun. And I know Mister Binky wants to have fun too.” The eyes on the teddy bear Lilith was holding started to glow red and a snarling sound emanated from the bear. “

“Yes Mister Binky. Alistair will succeed this time. And if not, you can eat him.” Lilith turned and smiled at Alastair.

“I will not fail you Lilith,” Alastair’s voice became more shaky.

“Oh…I know you won’t.” Lilith smiled


END