The sun had long set on Sector 7 by the time enough people, and functioning batteries and flashlights could be found. Sadly, everything was lacking in numbers. Only four others had shown up to search for the lost children, and amongst them were only three sources of light. It all felt insufficient compared to the overwhelming smell of rust alone, but it would have to be enough. Still, he was grateful.
The first obstacle was getting passed the Shin-Ra troops stationed at the Train Graveyard’s chain linked gate. There were always two, and they would usually keep to themselves, unless people stepped too close, then it was as if someone flipped a switch. The silence would shatter as they barked orders to step away, before raising their weapons to put down the threat of boredom at a stranger’s expense. Leonhardt planned on giving them a bribe, make them feel like all the waiting and standing around was actually worth someone.
“Wait here.”
There were no complaints from the other members of the search party. They waited patiently around the corner, out of view, while Leonhardt stepped forward, hands up and empty, save for a small bag of gil. If push came to shove, he would force his way through, but he would rather not make a bad situation worse.
Post by Theodore Connelly on May 3, 2020 20:14:00 GMT
From the darkness of the parking lot to the darkness of the night, Theo couldn't really say which job was worse. On one hand, he was no longer trapped underground, with the dry air and the smell of car smog constantly prickling at his nose.
On the other hand, he was on guard duty at the train graveyard instead, where children had been reported to have not just disappeared, but to have been bloody possessed.
Needless to say, that was so not very cool. Except for the night breeze, which was far too cold for him. It seemed like nowhere he was stationed could be expected to have reasonable temperatures. It was either sweaty hot or chilling cold.
Man, joining Shin-Ra's forces had been such a disappointment so far... It was all grunt work and little pay. He hadn't even met any SOLDIERs yet- except for the ones that tried to kill him and the Sergeant Oswald the other day at the Church.
Speaking of whom, the man was the only reason Theo didn't dare so much as sigh, not wanting to get reprimanded anymore than he usually did. It seemed that command thought they worked so well together (what with Theo's miraculous survival of the Sergeant's misadventures), they thought the two may as well stay together (until Theo inevitably died- though this part had not been communicated to him) which, don't get him wrong, Sgt. Oswald was, uh, cool and all, but he was such a stick in the mud.
Man, things were not looking up for Theo.
Specially when a large man appeared in the distance, making a beeline for the two of them as if this were his first time on the slums and he had never ran across bored Shin-Ra troopers in his life. Theo could only click his tongue, grimacing.
"Sir, Sir! Stop right there!" He called out, glancing nervously at the sarge before turning his gaze back to the still advancing man. "S- sir! Please! This is a restricted area! Just turn back and- a-a-and... Oh god." He chocked out the last bit, taking a firm step back that immediately drove his back into the chain fence.
"E- e... EEEEK! SAAARGE!" Oh lord, oh god, oh deities- It was him! Them! Him? Ack! One of those guys at the church- not the one who pissed on Theo, but worse yet, one of the two with the massive swords!
Post by Sergeant Oswald on May 3, 2020 21:29:42 GMT
“Whoa man, cool it,” said the voice of the other trooper standing guard with Connely. It was Private Jones, one of the more seasoned security officers assigned to Oswald’s charge, and the one he usually put in charge when he went off on patrol. Ever since Hobbs died at the reactor incident Jones had been acting funny. “You got the gil?” he asked Leonhardt.
Before the transaction could be complete, someone else came running out from behind the gate. It was Private Scott, a shorter private who had gone out to patrol the grounds with Sergeant Oswald. Unlike most of the company this officer had brown hair dangling from the back of her helmet.
“The sergeant needs our help,” Scott said, taking a moment to catch her breath. “We found the kids but…” The sound of gunfire could be heard from afar. Scott spun around and gasped. “Oh, no!” she said and barreled back into the train graveyard by herself. "Damn it man, no I am not doing this $$," Jones complained. "Go help her Connely, and you can just go in too crazy guy. I'm just a guard, i'm not going to get killed today."
Meanwhile...
Deep within the train graveyard, Oswald stood in an awkward pose. His helmet was missing and his curled blonde hairs were standing up on top of his head like a ghoul. His eyes were rolled back, revealing only white pupils, and a devious grin was on his face. He was holding his rifle in the air and holding the trigger, laughing as he emptied the clips.
Around him were others with vacant eyes and strange smiles as well, most of them children. Some giggled at his antics, others ran from train to train rattling old handrails with sticks. In the air around them ethereal figures weaved around in the shadows of the night. Leonhardt
It was to be expected, the orders to turn around and walk away. What Leonhardt did not expect was the lack of confidence and authority those commanded were given with. Stuttered commands had shifted to a fearful screams, shattering the relative quiet, as he stepped into the light, casting deep shadows on his face, giving prominence to the glow of his eyes.
"E- e... EEEEK! SAAARGE!"
Leonhardt couldn’t help but winced, caught unaware by the sudden screams of fear by the cowering grunt, prompting the rest of the search party to round the corner to assist Leonhardt. They expected a fight, to storm the gate in hope of saving children. A tale that would be told around the slum forevermore. Instead they only saw Leonhardt and another trooper staring at a grunt backing into a fence as far as he could. They watched on, confused, as Leonhardt turned his attention to the more accustomed trooper.
“Whoa man, cool it.”
The senior trooper had a more familiar voice. Leonhardt felt he had done business with him one or twice before, though he hadn’t cared enough to ask his name.
“You got the gil?”
This was more of what the search party expected. Leonhardt lowered his arms, comfortable that his chances of being shot at had lessened slightly. As he made the motion to toss the bag of gil, the distinct sound of heavy, rapid footfalls on gravel rang out from the other side of the gate, drawing the attention of all present.
There was a moment of tense silence, filled only by the sounds of heavy breathing and the rattling of the chain-linked fence. Leonhardt had a bad feeling. Something had gone wrong.
“The sergeant needs our help... We found the kids but…”
The sounds of not so distant gunfire cut through the conversation, turning everyone’s head in unison, as if they were all part of the fame flock of bird.
"Damn it man, no I am not doing this $&#$. Go help her Connelly, and you can just go in too crazy guy. I'm just a guard, i'm not going to get killed today."
Leonhardt wasted no time. He turned back to tossing the bag of gil towards the search party and gave a simple order.
“Go back. I’ll bring the kid home.”
With that he jump up onto the top of the fence, and lunched himself up. From the air, he could see the source of the of the gun shots, a series of quick muzzle flashes, and a strange, dark light. Something was very wrong. Theodore Connelly
Post by Theodore Connelly on May 5, 2020 0:06:09 GMT
Apparently, he was the only trooper here who didn't feel safe about having the man before him anywhere that could be considered 'near', because his companion and senior, Jones, could not be assed to even pretend to give a damn about this; either the clear glow of mako in the stranger's eyes, the very genuine fear in his partner's screams, or even the bloody job he had been assigned to do for that matter, literally asking for the gil instead of for, you know- any sort of identification or reason to be here.
"Dude! What the heck?! This guy and his buddies put Benson on the bloody hospital!" Hissed the youth at Jones, though he did very little to actually oppose the oncoming transaction, or get in the man's way, for that matter, making sure to put as much space between the two of them as the chain-fence would allow.
Which allowed the one female member of their unit to scare the crap out of him further when she suddenly popped up with an emergency report.
"LORDS!" Yelped the youth, holding his chest as the chain fence rang, Private Scott leaning against it while panting hard. Even with his heart beating at the speed of light in his chest, he quickly realized that something had gone terribly wrong during her and Sergeant Oswald 's patrol.
"Wait, what do you m-...!!!" His words were cut off by the sound of an automatic rifle emptying its clip into the air in the distance, making a chill run down the youthful private's spine.
Through Scott's words and the sound of the gun, Private Theodore Connelly swiftly deduced that... Sarge and Scott must have run into the scoundrels who had captured the children and had engaged into battle!
Oh no!
"Fudge, we gotta help 'em, du-" Or, he had to help them, apparently. "..."
Theodore's lip curled, but he did not argue with Jones, swinging the fences wide open before charging forward, gathering all of his meager courage.
"Stay strong, Sarge, Scott! The Cavalry's commiiieeeeeEEEEEK!" His battle cry turned into a yelp as a shadow soared above him, realizing the dangeorus SOLDIER-ish like man was leaping high above him into the fray as well. Oh god, not again! "IT'S LIKE YOU ARE BAD LUCK CHARM, SARGE!"
Post by Sergeant Oswald on May 6, 2020 7:31:41 GMT
Private Scott stopped as she turned a corner around two trains. She looked about the graveyard with confusion, it was as if the trains had been moved around. She held her rifle nervously, snapping it towards the source of a sudden snap. She nearly pulled the trigger when a shadow sailed overhead with a resonance of laughter. She fell back and started firing into the air at it, her bullets drowning out the other sounds of the graveyard.
Meanwhile, Oswald’s gun began to click without releasing bullets. His grin turned into a scowl as he threw the rifle onto the ground and abandoned it.
"E- e... EEEEK! SAAARGE!" he said in a scratchy voice. "eeeek! eeek! EEEEK!" he grunted in a low guttural tone. He lowered his hands to the ground and covered his hands into the loose soil, then used it to draw lines under his eyes. He then ripped at the uniform he was wearing, discarding the tunic and leaving only his trousers and the green scarf around his neck dangling loosely behind him. His boots were left behind as well. “...i'm not going to get killed today...” he muttered.
"Going to get killed today..." he recited as he moved towards an old abandoned warehouse, slipping into an ajar hatch dressed in shadows. But for Oswald, there was no change. "Get killed today. GET KILLED!" he said and then burst into a cackle, his walk deranged and clumsy.
He had been in a dark void since he and Scott had heard the sound of a child’s laughter while they were on patrol. When he ran out to try to grab the child, something swept towards him. Since then it had been nothing but pure darkness. Occasionally, the spirits would carry voices to him. Most of the time it was just more of their own cackling laughter, but he soon began to hear more familiar sounds as they poked at the sanity of his trapped soul.
"IT'S LIKE YOU ARE BAD LUCK CHARM, SARGE!" Oswald yelled from within the building as he began dragging himself up a ladder, not even resting his feet on the steps as he went up and instead dragging his shins across each bar. Leonhardt
Little by little the sounds of combat lessened, until only the wind passing by filled his ears. It was over too quickly, and with the peculiar light still shining, Leonhardt feared the worse, but this was a strange enemy. Teenagers could not have done this.
With a heavy, metallic ‘thoom’, Leonhardt landed atop a large, rusted warehouse, barely held together by hope and a dream. The sheet metal roof held a springiness, giving way slightly as he walked across its surface towards what used to be a skylight, now just a way for him to get to the second floor. His attention shifted as the sounds of gunfire came from another direction, closer than before, causing a spike in his adrenaline.
“Clam down.”
Leomhardt closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. In and out. In and out. A yellow orb affixed to the bangle on his left wrist began to glow in response to his focus. The dim light grew and brightened, and at its peak activated a pulse, allowing Leonhardt to better enhance his perception of the world around him. It was brief, instant but for that moment he could sense everything: the movement of the Shin-Ra troops on the ground; the teens dancing amongst the trains; something flying through the night air, laughing at something below it, and something... below!
"IT'S LIKE YOU ARE BAD LUCK CHARM, SARGE!"
Leonhardt recognized the voice, but it was... warped, as if multiple voices were speaking over and under it with the same intensity. Whoever or whatever that was sounded like it was in the thick of all this, whatever this was, and it was getting closer, possibly drawn by his landing. Slowly, steadily, Leonhardt made his way to the broken skyline, taking a knee at its edge to watch whatever was coming.
Post by Theodore Connelly on May 8, 2020 15:58:49 GMT
Theodore's legs burnt as he tried to run faster, the sound of yet another rifle joining the loud chorus of shoots ringing through the night spurring him to action.
He could hear his own words echoed in the distance- distorted and ugly, a mixture of the sarge's voice and some otherworldly creature that sent chills down Theodore's spine. He was beginning to think he may not have quite interpreted the situation correctly...
But still, his legs ran faster and faster, following the sound of the second rifle; if the one in the distance was the Sarge, then the one nearby had to be Scott- and if she was emptying her clip, it couldn't be good!
He reached the spot the other private occupied before dropping flat to the floor, screaming.
"Don't shoot, Scott! Don't shoot!" He begged/instructed her as he crawled towards her, not quite seeing just what she was attempting to shoot down, if there even was anything, but unwilling to leave her alone when so clearly terrified. "It's just me, Connelly!" He said!
The sarge would need to wait- either way, thought not too long. The crazy SOLDIER-ish man was moving towards him... he and Scott needed to be swift!
Post by Sergeant Oswald on May 12, 2020 5:02:15 GMT
Oswald finished his ascent to the second floor. His neck snapped unnaturally as he heard the sound of a thudding against the roof. A grin curled again on his face, and he quickly scrambled towards a door that he violently ripped open, causing a screeching echo throughout the chambers. His eyes fell on a closet full of wrenches and old train parts, with a large spiked maul mounted on the wall. He stepped forward and grabbed the maul with both hands. Holding it up and slowly spinning the point around watching it as if it were a holy symbol.
Suddenly he released a hand and let the handle slide down the other, catching the head with his wrist. He then ran the spike over his barren chest in a diagonal line from his right upper pectoral to his lower left drawing blood. He then tilted his palm and let the spike fall to the floor, and he exited the closet dragging it across the floor.
“Get… on… the… ground…” Oswald muttered as he wandered the upper floor. A bangle on his own wrist was glowing yellow and so were his eyes.
Scott had dropped to one knee, and was still firing at shades overhead. When Theodore came into view the shadows quickly scurried off and away from them. She spun around her fellow officer’s direction and let out a cry while still holding the trigger. Click. Click. Click…
Luckily, her magazine had run dry. “Oh! Connely…” she said, still shaking as she reached to pull another magazine from a pouch on her uniform. “Sorry about that,” she said as she loaded it again. “Oh gosh, Connely, the sergeant…”
A childish giggle interrupted her and she spun around. From the shadows of the train cars children and teenagers alike began to emerge and peak their heads from the windows. Laughter erupted from all of them like a chorus.
Then in unison they stopped. Dead silence filled the air as they stared at the troopers. Leonhardt
The sight of a human scurrying, jerky and unnatural, towards a door left Leonhardt with a sense of confusion. It was wearing most of a Shin-Ra security uniform, but moved like an animal. It was all strange. The sudden ear-piercing screech made by metal yielding to brute force made him wince as it tore through his thoughts like a brick through a window.
By the time Leonhardt could compose himself, the thing was walking away while dragging a metal spike driver along the ground. He could tell that was going to be a problem later. He sighed and contemplated his next move. Maybe he should cooperate with the Shin-Ra troops on the ground? That one troop did say they found the kids. The distinct sound of a cachinnated crowd rang out from across the graveyard, originating different source of eerie light. It dawned on Leonhardt that he would never finish a complete thought without some sort of interruption. That’s where he needed to go.
With another breath, Leonhardt leapt into the air, leaving a dent in the sheet metal roof, in the direction of whatever that light was. He grabbed a hold of The hilt of his sword and prepared for the worst. No matter what, those kids are coming home.
Post by Theodore Connelly on May 17, 2020 13:49:24 GMT
From the trains, and the wreckage, and the shadows, the children poured out, looking upon them like hawks glaring down upon sparrows.
The chill crawling upon Theo's spine froze him in place, half-knelt behind and looking at Scott's frame.
The chorus of creepy children's laughter to the heavens rose, before sudden silence befell the hellish troupe.
And now this writer will stop trying to verse, having realized his rhyming ain't well-versed.
"Oh god." Muttered Theo lowly as his body slowly regained a measure of its mobility, his hands slowly reaching for the rifle at his side.
Sure, you might say they were just bloody children and he should never even think of possibly using his medium caliber arm on such innocent creatures of god.
But here's the thing:
This looked like it came straight of The %#@$ing Exorcist.
Screw this.
"Scott... I need you to come here." Time to Jump the fudge out of here.
Post by Sergeant Oswald on May 19, 2020 5:43:05 GMT
Scott began moving towards Theodore, reaching out to put her arm around him after seeing the yellow materia he had slotted. But then there was a sound nearby that caused her to jump back.
As Leonhardt landed nearby, the silent stares of the children ceased. In a split second they all began to scurry away in different directions deeper into the graveyard. Scott was quick to react to the man, pointing her gun up towards him, though she was secretly relieved that the kids had run off.
“Halt!” she yelled, though as she got a somewhat better look through her scope she let it rest a bit and looked towards Theodore. “Do you know this guy?” Scott asked with a hesitation in her voice.
Back at the gate, Private Jones was enjoying a cigarette when he heard some laughter from behind him in the graveyard.
“No. No no no,” he said as he took a few steps away from the gate. “You just stay in there with all the crazy people,” he said as he took another drag.
He had Scared them away. Or maybe this part of a larger game. Leonhardt was often called when the Neighborhood Watch needed kids to be disciplined. Maybe this was related to their running away? Or maybe a larger predators as coming?
“Halt!”
The sudden bark of an order interrupted Leonhardt’s thoughts. He was getting tired of unpleasant sounds and voices.
“Do you know this guy?”
There was reluctance in the order. She was scared. Fine. Leonhardt would let it go. Leonhardt turned around slowly, disliking the thought of being prone while surrounded by madness. And he had a gun pointed at him. Again. He’d be lying if he said this wasn’t the easiest way to disappoint him. At this point, he was convinced this is just how Shin-Ra said “hello”.
“I saw your Sergeant.”
His spoke in a deep, monotone voice, refusing to let the two grunts before him see or hear any kind of reaction to the firearm.
“He is on the move. He will likely hurt whoever he finds first. We can either work together to clean this mess, or we can fight. Choose.” Theodore ConnellySergeant Oswald
Post by Theodore Connelly on May 23, 2020 17:13:05 GMT
It certainly was how they liked to say hello to known criminals. Theo had his gun pointed squarely at Leonhardt's face, and if Scott looked scared, then Theo looked both scared and very unhappy to see him again.
“Do you know this guy?”
"Unfortunately." Was the young trooper's dry reply, slowly stepping closer to Scott. He didn't trust this guy one bit! He sullied SOLDIERs name by going around attacking Shin-ra grunts with that sword and those shiny eyes, and making a mess, and...! and... What had he done again at the Church again...?
His memories of it were very foggy and messy. Something about Benson getting split and a crazy man peeing on him... and sharp pain on his skull...
Whatever!
"I saw your Sergeant."
"Hah! Try again! You don't look anywhere near sweaty enough for that!" Not enough to be someone who had to dodge constant rifle fire! If the Sergeant was anything, it was a shining example of Shin-ra Grunt trigger happiness!
"He is on the move. He will likely hurt whoever he finds first. We can either work together to clean this mess, or we can fight. Choose."
Having not seen Oswald being, well, crazy, Theodore really didn't have much context for how serious Leonhardt 's words were- or how to properly interpret them.
"Sergeant Oswald is incapable of hurting anyone but a criminal! ... Probably! ... maybe! You are not making any sense, old man!"
Post by Sergeant Oswald on May 25, 2020 20:44:49 GMT
“Oh Connely, that was what I was going to say,” Scott said as she eased her grip on the weapon only slightly. “One of those… things…. that were floating in the air, a particularly bad looking one, jumped… into Sergeant Oz. He started trying to hurt me after that, Connely, I don’t think he’s himself.”
In the distance back towards the warehouse there was the sound of cackling and the sound of footsteps as children started to migrate towards it. In the air several ethereal figures churned through the air above it. Among those wayward souls coming to join Oswald at the warehouse was none other than Jones, who must have fallen pray to one of the ghosts. He had abandoned his rifle in favor of a belt full of hammers and other tools strung across his body.
“Whoever he is, let’s just try and get the sergeant out of there and knock him back to his senses, and try to help those kids too...” Scott said. “We can let the sergeant decide after that."