Chapter 84: Night Raid - Part 3

Chapter 84: Night Raid - Part 3

3-2 entered a corridor illuminated by the flashing alarm lights. He and his team moved carefully along the hallway. They stopped at an intersection, and 3-2 heard some noise. Turning his head, he spotted several guards standing in front of a door.

3-2 looked at his two teammates and whispered, "Five hostiles. We go in with a flashbang." He pulled out a flash grenade, pulled the pin, waited two seconds, then threw it into the middle of the group of guards. The grenade exploded in the air, blinding all of them. The trio emerged from their cover and opened fire.

The five guards dropped within seconds. They quickly advanced toward the door. 3-7 searched one of the fallen guards and pulled out an access card, handing it to 3-2. The team took their positions around the door.

3-2 counted down, "3, 2, 1," then swiped the card through the scanner, and the door slid open. They entered a room filled with computers, researchers, and a few men in suits. The trio aimed their weapons at them, and 3-2 barked, "Everyone, hands in the air! Move to the center of the room, get on your knees, and keep your hands on your heads!"

The people in the room scrambled to obey their orders, quickly gathering in the center. Some were crying, while others wore grim expressions.

3-2 spoke, "3-7, cover the entrance. 3-8, search them and interrogate."

Then, 3-2 walked toward the suited men. He grabbed the first one within reach and punched him in the nose, causing it to bleed. Pulling the man by the collar, he snarled, "You son of a bitch, where are the chemical weapons?"

The man stammered, "What chemical weapons?"

Without hesitation, 3-2 drew his pistol and shot the man in the temple, killing him instantly. He turned to the rest of the group and said coldly, "If anyone else doesn't know what chemical weapons I'm talking about, step forward so I can remind you, just like your friend on the floor."

The prisoners trembled in fear. Finally, one of the researchers spoke up, "Alright, we'll talk! There's a map of the complex on the admin staff." He pointed toward the remaining men in suits.

3-2 grabbed one of them and struck him hard with the butt of his pistol, knocking the man to the ground.

3-2 searched the man's pockets and found a map of the complex. He noticed a section labeled "C-W Storage" to the north, and another room marked "Lodge Leader." Furrowing his brow, he turned toward the group of admin staff and flipped the map, pointing at the label. "What's this?"

One of the younger members nervously responded, "It's… it's classified… you can't know about it."

3-2 shot him in the head, leaving a noticeable red mark on his forehead. He then turned to the remaining survivors and said coldly, "Well, by my own authority, I'm declassifying it now. You talk, or you die. Your choice."

One of the others stammered, "It's… it's the leader's room for the Lille Lodge."

3-2 grabbed his radio, "Hunter-3-2 to Site Command, we have a potential Person of Interest on-site. Do you have any intel on a 'Lodge Leader'?"

Site Command responded, "Hunter-3-2, SAPPHIRE is an organization made up entirely of Lodges. These Lodges are semi-independent cells, each led by a Lodge Leader."

3-2 replied, "Understood. We may have located the Lille Lodge leader in our operational area."

Site Command answered, "Your priority remains the chemical weapons. If possible, capture or eliminate him."

"Roger that," 3-2 responded.

3-8 approached him, saying, "I've searched all of them. Here are several more research documents and secondary intel. I've also collected all their access cards."

3-2 said, "Alright, let's move." After the trio exited, 3-8 asked, "3-2, what do we do with the hostages?"

3-2 thought for a few seconds before responding, "Grenade." Both he and 3-8 pulled the pins from two grenades, tossed them into the crowd, which erupted in screams, and then closed the door. BOOM—a loud explosion followed.

3-7 stared at them, completely stunned. 3-2 noticed his look and asked, "Got a problem?"

"I've got a problem with my conscience," 3-7 replied.

3-2 slapped him and said, "One more insult, and I'll file a report against you."

3-7 looked at him, speechless. "But… that's not exactly supported by the Geneva Convention…"

3-8 laughed, "What's the Geneva Convention?"

Both 3-2 and 3-8 chuckled as they continued moving forward. 3-7 followed them in silence.

The team advanced quietly until they reached the target room. Upon entering, they swiftly secured the area, scanning every corner. What lay before them sent a chill down 3-2's spine—an empty room. Panic crept in as 3-2 grabbed his radio, his voice urgent, "Hunter-3-2 to Site Command. The chemical weapons are not here. I repeat, the chemical weapons are not—"

A brief silence followed, broken by a sinister laugh echoing throughout the room. The team quickly formed a circle, weapons raised, covering all sides.

Suddenly, with a deafening BOOM, a wall exploded. Dust and debris clouded the air as something massive emerged from the rubble—a grotesque, green monster, its body oozing with thick, putrid pus. The creature's malformed, swollen limbs twitched violently, and it let out a guttural roar that shook the room.

"OPEN FIRE!" 3-2 shouted as he unleashed a barrage from his modified Gilboa Snake, the rounds ripping into the creature's diseased flesh. 3-8 and 3-7 followed suit, their rifles spitting bullets in a constant stream.

The monster staggered but didn't falter. It lashed out with one of its massive, slime-coated arms, sweeping 3-8 off his feet and slamming him into the far wall. He groaned in pain but managed to roll to the side before the creature's next blow crushed the ground where he had just been.

"Flank it!" 3-2 barked, keeping his aim steady. 3-7, despite his earlier doubts, moved swiftly, darting around to the side as he fired in short bursts, aiming for the monster's joints. Thick globs of pus splattered from the wounds, hissing as they hit the ground and ate away at the floor.

The creature let out a roar of fury, its yellow eyes locking onto 3-7. It charged, but 3-7 was ready. He lobbed a grenade directly at its path. BOOM—the explosion rocked the room, sending chunks of flesh flying, but the creature emerged from the smoke, enraged and charging faster.

"Fall back!" 3-2 ordered, firing into the creature's head as it bore down on them.

The creature barreled forward, eyes glowing with rage as its bloated, pus-covered body slammed into the walls. 3-2 gritted his teeth and called out, "3-8, do we have explosives left?"

3-8, still recovering from being thrown against the wall, checked his vest quickly. "Two more frags!" he shouted over the chaos.

"Use them! Aim for its legs!"

3-7 and 3-8 took position, pulling the pins from their grenades. 3-8 tossed the first grenade, but the creature reacted faster than expected, swiping at it mid-air. The explosion still went off near its arm, tearing into the thick flesh and spraying pus in all directions, but it didn't slow down. The monster howled, turning its focus onto 3-8 with a maddened fury.

"MOVE!" 3-2 roared as the beast lunged. 3-8 barely rolled out of the way, the creature's heavy fist smashing into the floor where he had just been, cracking the concrete and sending debris flying. 3-2 emptied another burst of rounds into the monster's chest, aiming for its center mass.

"Take the legs out now!" 3-2 barked again.

3-7 threw the second grenade, this time more precisely. The explosive landed just beneath the creature's knee, detonating with a violent CRACK. The explosion severed one of its legs, sending the monster crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar. It writhed, slamming its remaining arm into the floor, trying to pull itself forward, pus leaking from every wound.

"It's down!" 3-7 yelled, but the monster still thrashed, dragging itself toward the team with horrifying determination. Despite the heavy damage, it was relentless, its grotesque body continuing to regenerate at a shocking rate, pus-filled blisters already forming over its wounds.

"Finish it!" 3-2 commanded, switching his rifle to full auto. He unloaded into the creature's head, aiming for its exposed, pulsing eye. 3-8 and 3-7 joined him, their rifles roaring as they poured every remaining bullet into the beast's skull.

The creature twitched one last time, its movements slowing as it collapsed fully, its massive body deflating in a pool of foul-smelling fluid. Its head, now a mangled mess of flesh and bone, stopped moving entirely.

3-2 took a step forward cautiously, gun still trained on the creature's corpse. Silence filled the room, save for the dripping of pus onto the cracked floor. He exchanged a glance with 3-7 and 3-8. "Secure the area," he ordered, voice steady but tense. "And check if there's any sign of those weapons. This isn't over yet."

Suddenly, an unsettling, low chuckle began to emanate from the fallen creature, barely audible at first but quickly gaining momentum until it escalated into a grotesque, fanatical cackle that reverberated through the walls of the chamber. The guttural laughter was so unnerving that the operators found themselves instinctively tightening their grips on their weapons, glancing at one another, uncertain of what would happen next.

And then, in a voice dripping with malice, the monster spoke, its tone heavy with the weight of malevolent satisfaction. "HAHAHAHAHA… You think you've defeated me?" it sneered, the voice warping as it echoed through the empty room, as though it came not just from the beast, but from the very walls themselves. "You fools, you pathetic dogs of the Foundation. My mission… my glorious mission, has already begun."

The operators stood frozen, a cold dread creeping up their spines. They knew something worse was coming. They could feel it. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of an impending revelation, the kind that makes even battle-hardened soldiers question if they've ever truly faced real danger before.

With a slow, deliberate breath, the monster continued, its voice rising with glee, "You want to know about the bombs, don't you? HA! They're not chemical weapons like you've been told, you fools. They are far, far worse. Biological weapons… something beyond your comprehension." It paused, letting its words sink in, savoring the growing terror on their faces.

The creature's swollen, pus-covered form seemed to pulsate with every word it uttered, as though feeding off the operators' growing sense of unease. And then it said the one thing that made the blood of every man in the room run cold. "These bombs… they carry Singularity-002. You know it by a different name—SCP-008."

A sharp intake of breath could be heard from 3-2, and his mind raced as the implications hit him like a sledgehammer. SCP-008 "Zombie Plague", an anomaly known to be one of the deadliest virus the Foundation had ever contained. A virus with the potential to ravage humanity, turning anyone infected into mindless, violent zombies with no way to cure it, in the crudest of terms. The kind of weapon that would ensure absolute chaos.

"You dogs of the Foundation," the monster hissed, its voice now dripping with venomous triumph, "My sacred mission… the purge… is already underway. Even now, the bombs are being prepared to unleash death upon the world. You have failed! HAHAHAHA! I WISH YOU ALL TO DIE IN HORRIBLE, AGONIZING SUFFERING."

As if to punctuate its deranged monologue, the monster's grotesque, bloated body began to tremble violently, spasming in unnatural convulsions. Pus oozed from its ruptured skin, and its veins bulged, dark and throbbing with whatever grotesque fluid pulsed within. The operators stood rooted to the spot, bracing themselves, knowing something terrible was about to happen but unable to predict what.

"Get back!" 3-2 barked, his voice sharp, commanding, trying to snap his team out of the trance of horror they'd been lulled into.

But it was too late. The creature's body, now grotesquely bloated, convulsed one final time before it exploded with a sickening BOOM, a blast of noxious gas and corrosive pus spraying across the room like a grotesque storm. The explosion sent a wave of foul, infected fluid in all directions, splattering the operators' protective gear and covering the walls in the vile substance. The room reeked of decay, a nauseating odor that clung to their nostrils even through their breathing masks.

"Fall back!" 3-2 shouted as he wiped the goo from his visor, trying to regain control of the situation. He clicked his radio in desperation, "Hunter-3-2 to Site Command, I think we've got a bigger problem than we anticipated. We need immediate decontamination procedures in place. This thing just exploded, and it wasn't just chemical. There's biological contamination. Confirm status of SCP-008 immediately!"

There was static on the other end, followed by a voice laced with urgency. "Hunter-3-2, do not, I repeat, DO NOT allow any of your team to be exposed to that material. If SCP-008 is involved, you're at risk of immediate contagion. Evacuate the area now."

3-2 clenched his jaw as he listened to the command. He turned to his remaining men, 3-7 and 3-8, who were still on edge, covered in the remnants of the monster. "You heard them. We need to move, and fast."

As they began to retreat, the weight of the monster's final words hung heavily in the air. The realization hit them all at once—they had just become part of a much larger nightmare. If the bombs had already been equipped with SCP-008, if the outbreak was indeed imminent, then the mission had escalated from a tactical extraction to a global containment emergency.

---

On Leonard's side, a system notification suddenly popped up:

[Ding! SCP-008 "Zombie Plague" has been discovered. Please contain it.]

Leonard stared at the screen for a moment, his face a mix of disbelief and horror.

"Oh HELL NO," he muttered, slapping his forehead.