May I Request Wesker With S/o Whos A Mind Reader? It Can Be Spicy If You Want

May I request Wesker with s/o who’s a mind reader? It can be spicy if you want 😳

Thank you! ❤️

[snaps head around] hehe *precedes to try and sneak a breeding kink in again*

You’ve always been able to hear people’s thoughts, typically it was when you could just focus on someone’s head and all their emotions, thoughts and feelings would be clear to you. However there were some people who had such loud thoughts that you could hear them regardless, luckily these people were few and far between, saving you a headache. This…skill of yours made you a very good detective, to the point where the STARS team captain took notice of you. Your ability to read someone made you valuable to him, it was a risk for him, you knew that, as you could read someone like a book, but your skill was too valuable to pass up.

Over the years you two developed a friendship, it wasn’t awkward or seemed to be based on manipulation like the others but you still were cautious. He had many thoughts about killing the others and you could never be too careful.

But the weirdest day though, was when you were getting thoughts that definitely were not your own.

“God, why do they look so good in that uniform?”

That was a familiar voice, you thought as your eyes looked around, resting your hand on your cheek to look less suspicious.

“Fuck, I want to kiss them so bad.”

Your head went up to look over at Wesker’s office, his shades were open which was rare but you two were the only ones in the office at the moment. Oh, so that’s where the thoughts were coming from? That’s…interesting… Your eyes found his quickly, his shades were pushed into his hair, he quickly looked away from you when you stared at him.

“Dammit, I need to stop staring, they’re so pretty.”

Maybe your suspicions didn’t mean anything, maybe he did actually like you?

“I just want to fuck them hard enough to break the bed.”

WOAH- okay what the fuck- your head turned in his direction once more, his head was down, probably looking at some papers.

“They have such a pretty mouth, I’d love to fuck it.”

Sir, you are the boss, you cannot be thinking like this about your subordinate-

“Maybe they’d give me a little heir if I asked? Hmm…nice and round…”

SIR- SIR- THIS IS THE RACCOON CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT. Quickly standing up you headed your way out the door, feeling his eyes following you as you walked briskly.

“God I want to smack their thighs.”

So maybe your captain liked you more than you thought.

Hi!! Can you write a jealous blackhat?? Like, his wife meets his counterpart, Whitehat, and WH makes her swoon and blush and BH gets jealous and overprotective of her? And she teases him about. Please and thank you!! You can ignore this if its complicated.

JEALOUS

Black Hat xWife! Reader (Also White Hat appears…)

A/N: Kay so this isn’t my normal semi-in universe Reader insert as it includes White Hat from the AU, but it was super fun! Black Hat is pretty OOC sometimes, but once again, AU and its a reader insert so…gotta suspend your disbelief a little bit. ((I am saying this more for myself…I have to say this a lot. I am so critical of how I write the crew sometimes X)&))

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Black Hat looked at himself in the mirror with an evil grin, then he looked to you. Oh how he enjoyed having you for his own. The marriage was a good idea, more than good if he were to be honest. Together, you two would take over the world a hundred times over. He could hardly contain himself.

So he didn’t.

Black Hat came up from behind you and began kissing your neck, running his sharp teeth along your tender skin. You chuckled and half attempted to escape his affection, blushing. The soft grazing of his teeth tickled. Black Hat pulled you closer, amused at your struggles.

“Don’t try to run, my dear.” He hummed, finally releasing you. You rolled your eyes and readjusted your necklace. The necklace Black Hat stole for you when you agreed to marry him. You didn’t truly have much of a say in the matter, but even if you did, you still would have said yes.

Tonight, Black Hat was taking you with him to a party in the center of Hatsville. He enjoyed showing you off whenever the opportunity presented itself.

You didn’t know who would be at this party, so as the two of you arrived you stayed close to your husband. Flug and Demencia accompanied you as well, but 5.0.5 stayed home on Black Hat’s command. The last thing he needed was his reputation tarnished further by that goody-goody bear. No one argued with him.

The party nearly stopped when the members of Black Hat Inc walked in. You were notorious criminals, but you weren’t the only ones there. Other criminals from surrounding cities mingled in with the crowd. Black Hat and Demencia smirked, but you and Flug were rendered a bit uncomfortable by the attention.

Pretty soon Flug and Demencia were gone, the former having chased after the latter to make sure she didn’t destroy or kill anything too important. You stayed near Black Hat as he mingled with the other villains at the party, talking about business and the success of Black Hat’s products against the heroes in their cities.

You were quiet enjoying yourself, even joking along with everyone else. At one point you saw one of your friends with whom you used to rob banks and museums, now the fiancé of a villain in New York. You two took a moment to catch up, before being swept away once again by the party.

Things were going well and Black Hat also felt pleased with how the party was going. That is until…

“Black Hat?!” Came an all too enthusiastic and kind voice through the crowd. You felt your husband tense up next to you. He turned around slowly.

“White Hat…” Black Hat scowled. You turned and almost chuckled at what you saw.

The man before you looked very much like your husband, but with a much more…heroic looking color pallet. His hat, coat, pants, and tie were all a bright white, just like his teeth which shined as he smiled at the two of you. Where your husband would wear red of varying shades, this man did the same with blue. His vest was gray, but much lighter than anything Black Hat would ever wear.

“It’s so good to see you!” White Hat smiled, hugging your husband, who simply clenched up. You were surprised at how foreword this man was, no one ever approached Black Hat that way.

“I’m sure it is.” Black Hat responded, dusting himself off after such a disgusting display of affection.

“And who is this lovely creature?” White Hat asked turning his gaze to you. You blushed slightly at the compliment. Black Hat noticed.

“I am y/n.” You smiled, “I’m this grump’s wife.”

“Ah…what a beautiful name for a beautiful person.” White Hat said, taking your hand and placing a kiss there. Your blush grew darker. Black Hat rolled his eyes.

“Thank you Se-”

“White Hat! Forgive me for not introducing myself.” The tall man smiled at you.

“It is no trouble.” You replied. Looking to your more than annoyed husband.

“However, I am curious as to how you know my husband.” You smiled, watching Black Hat’s reaction, “Please tell me more.”

“Oh! Well sure!” And with that White Hat began telling you of adventures and confrontations from years before, taking every opportunity to recall some embarrassing story that made you blush and Black Hat even more flustered. He wrapped a hand possessively around your waist as his counterpart talked.

“And well a few years later, I saw this gentleman a-”

“Alright, I’ve had enough!” Black Hat exclaimed, grabbing your hand, “Come y/n, we have business to attend to before we leave. Where are Flug and Demencia?”

A crashing sound in the distance answered that question before you could. You sort of chuckled as Black Hat pulled you away from his suave counterpart, who offered his goodbyes to your turned backs.

The ride home was rather amusing with Demencia drunk, Flug trying to steady her and your husband keeping one protective arm around you at all times. Following the meeting with White Hat, he hadn’t let go of you for a moment and this pattern continued all the way to the manor.

He pushed you into your room and kissed you roughly, one might even say passionately.

“Someone’s jealous.” You mused when he finally released you.

“I am not!” Black Hat replied, “I just could stand having something so beautiful a-”

“White Hat got under your skin.” You teased, cutting off his sentence.

“Ha! Like I would ever feel threatened by that idiot!”

Black Hat turned and sat on your bed. You chuckled softly and sat next to him.

“Hmm…Too bad.” You said leaning your head on his shoulder, “I thought it was kind of…cute. Sexy even.”

For a moment Black Hat froze, then he looked down at you with malicious, lustful eyes. He kissed you once again, in the most loving way possible…

Wesker with a university student s/o

No specified age.

Drives you there every day in his super fancy car that attracts everyone’s attention and has them whispering about you and him. If he can’t take you and you can’t get there yourself, you’re not going. He doesn’t trust anybody else to take you there safely. He just doesn’t trust anybody with you.

Loves when you kiss his cheek whilst leaving. He might not be big on physical affection, especially not in public, but he knows people there want you, and he needs wants them to know you’re his.

Nearly everyone knows who Albert Wesker is, and news about your relationship with him spreads around your class quickly. People question you, some ignore you, some hate you for it, but you just ignore them. He loves you and you love him, why should other people and their opinions matter?

Wesker is incredibly proud of you for pursuing your dreams/dream career and will help in anyway he can, even if he did insist that he can support both of you.

Let’s you sit with him in his office and study/work whilst he works. Sometimes he’ll get distracted by you, but he’ll never tell you that. He just loves you.

If anyone harasses or bothers you, he won’t hesitate to threaten them or the University. He has both the money and power to ruin anyone’s life and isn’t afraid to do so if it means you’re okay.

Dated someone in your class who now won’t leave you alone? Don’t worry, he’s got this. You don’t even have to tell him to, and you won’t even know what happened, only that your ex is too afraid to look at you now for some reason.

Tutor being unfair towards you? He’ll deal with it.

Nothing bad will happen to you with him caring for you.

Low-key has access to the University’s surveillance to make sure everything is okay with you, and nothing will happen, but nobody else knows.

Doesn’t like when you go out without him after classes, but he won’t stop you. He just worries about you and doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you which is why he watches over you and is ready to rescue you at any point.

Takes you for lunch whenever he can and if he can’t do lunch, you two will be having breakfast. He just wants to make sure you’re taken care of and ready to work!

Nobody dares bother you after learning of your relationship as they know the risks of doing so. Wesker has a reputation, and it isn’t exactly a good one.

People tried befriending you to get closer to him, but you knew and told him. He was quick to comfort you the best he could if it bothered you.

Will try comfort you if you’re overwhelmed and forces you to take breaks.

“There’s no point overworking yourself, Dearheart. Your work won’t be the best it can be if you’re stressing.”

Takes baths with you and gives you a massage when you’re stressed.

Worried about deadlines? Don’t worry, he can extend them for you if you absolutely need him to do so.

Insists you move in with him rather than living in university accommodation. Says it’ll be easier and cheaper for you, but really, he just wants you with him and he doesn’t trust your roommates.

Throws you a fancy graduation party once you finish and asks you to marry him once you’re both home.

black hat with an immortal reader? they have been together (not romantically) for hundreds of years and black hat is starting to feel something more for the reader 👀

YESSS, thank you for the ask!

Black hat x immortal reader

★He first met you a long time ago. Back when you both where only a few hundred years old. Back then you were hired by him to be, for lack of a better term his receptionist/accountant/personal assistant.

★He handled the customers and deels up-front with villains, you made sure things ran smoothly behind the scenes. To the point that it was almost like magic how you made whatever he wanted happen.

★You never really had any complaints about the agreement you bolth had, therefore you always stuck around. And as the people around him left or died you where always there.

★He doesn't really notice it at first, and ends up with him writing it off as just being attached to his most loyal worker. But as the years go on he starts to get more and more possessive of you, not even realizeing that he caught feelings.

★It will eventually just come to a point where you bolth act like youre dating. But insist that it's plutonic, that is until black hat sucks up the "bad guy" attitude and asks you if you wold like to have dinner with him.

★He most likely brings you to a high end restaurant that's near impossible to get to without putting in a reservation at least a year beforehand. One bottle of fine wine and a confession later, your officially dating Black Hat.

Sometimes you just act like a old married couple resulting in conversations that go like this:

"Hey y/n, have you seen my scarlet tie?"

"I think you left it in your office, dear"

Ok imagine this.... force 141 meeting price twin sibling reader that's a retired captain but here's the twist they think reader is an imposter when in reality their just here to visit price and take him to his favorite restaurant for his break...

This is so old I’m sorry :,)

Protective 141 my beloved

“Leaving, on a jet plane..

Don’t know when I’ll be back again..”

Your soft voice cut through the music, singing along as your tires dug across the dirt road leading to the base entrance.

Your keychain swayed gently from the rear view mirror, a tiny toy soldier John had slipped into the pocket of your slacks the day you were promoted to Captain.

As much as you were at peace with retiring from your position, those small pieces of your career never seemed to disappear.

The security personnel were all smiles seeing your truck pull in, joking and teasing as they’d done for so many years. While your car was taken care of, you were lead to your brother’s office before being left to greet him. You listened through the door, only hearing the tapping of his keyboard.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

You grinned like a child when you heard a low curse and angry footsteps. The door flew open.

“You are a pest.”

“Good to see you!” You beam.

“Mhm.” He grumbled, though he guided your shoulders inside carefully.

It had been strange since you left, but just being in his office was reassuring. He told you what he could now that you weren’t in on classified info, and you told him nearly everything. The nightmares, the daydreams, the panic attacks, disassociation.

Talking to him always reminded you that even though you ached to be back in uniform, leaving was for the best.

You displaced his office decorations and spoke with him for a few hours before he hugged you goodbye tightly, reminding you that this was still a version of home, and he was here.

“Always here.” He said.

You closed his door gently, hesitating a moment to run your thumb down the groove of the door seam in thought.

“You lost?”

The voice nearly made you jump, though your years in service didn’t let you show it as you turned to see a young man in uniform, scanning you with a furrowed brow.

“Do you need assistance?” He repeated, adjusting his cap.

You blink in realization. “Oh, I’m-"

“This is a restricted area, mate.” Another voice joined the first, accompanied by an intimidating figure that had appeared from behind a corner. Not an inch of him was uncovered apart from his eyes, his build and layers making him look even more threatening. He seemed to puff up like an angry cat; amusing to your trained eye.

“John is my brother, I worked here with him before your task force transferred here.” You replied smoothly.

“Price doesn’t have siblings.” The masked soldier spoke lowly.

You smiled despite yourself. “Well, that’s news to me..”

“Need some directions?”

Another?

Your patience thinned.

“Look. I served here, he’s my brother. If you open this door, he’ll tell you.”

The first soldier eyed you suspiciously.

“Forgive me for not taking your word for it, uh..?”

“Price.” You deadpan. “My last name is Price.”

The capped soldier hummed, seemingly still off-put.

You sighed, exasperated. “Please open the door.”

“Yeah, alright.” The masked man starts toward you, and you fight the urge to skillfully escape his hold when he guides you by the shoulder back into the office.

“I hope you’re not lying..” The Scottish soldier from before murmured as you passed, and John lifted his head from his work.

“Claims to be your-”

“For Christ’s sake, release your death grip from my sibling!”

His exasperated tone makes you smile as the three soldiers flank you. The hand on your shoulder leaves along with a tense apology that only deepens your amusement.

“If I wasn’t, I think they did a pretty good job interrogating me.” You say lightly.

“I’m so sorry.. what’s with you lot, aye?”

He shut down the protesting of the capped and Scottish soldier with a raised hand, sighing as he brought you to face them.

“Should have thought to introduce you..”

Capped soldier was Gaz, Scot was Soap, mask was Ghost. Their apologetic shuffling of their weight made you comfortable already.

“It’s nice that you’re so..protective.”

You hoped they sensed your amusement and didn’t really think you were rattled. It would have taken a lot more than a strong arm to trip you up.

“They’re idiots.” John corrected, sitting back down.

“You served?” Ghost murmured.

“I did. I retired a few months ago.”

“You’re.. Price’s age?” Gaz’s tone was disbelieving.

“Oi.” John glowered.

“You can’t say that..” Soap nudged Gaz harshly.

“The exact same actually. Well..” You glance at John. “I am three minutes older..”

“And yet you’re the child.” John bit back.

“Why’d you never tell us you have a twin sister?” Soap gestured to you.

“Not your business?” John replied.

“Aye..” Soap rolled his eyes.

“You three should come with us for dinner.” You suggested.

John’s ‘No’ was overshadowed by the resounding enthusiasm of his task force.

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” John grumbled.

“I’m retired, John, I work alone.”

He glared at Gaz’s quiet laugh.

“7:00. We’ll be at that little run-down near the bar.”

“You’re taking them there? I thought you were family.” Ghost shifted his weight.

“Good chips.” You and John both defended the restaurant of choice at the same time.

“Oh, they’re twins for real..” Gaz murmured. “Creepy.”

“See you tonight.” You gently shoved John’s head before excusing yourself.

“See you!”

“Bye!”

“Cheers..”

When you had left the building, the three turned back to John. Soap didn’t get a chance to open his mouth before John rumbled a warning.

“If you so much as think about it, I will tear you apart.”

Hallo! Truly loved the MonsterAU stories! Wonderful, amazing writing!

Would it be possible for you to write: what if human!reader was turned into a chimera?

Akin to this:

Feel free to ignore!

Chimæra

Pairing: Monster 141 x Chimera!reader

Cw: science experiment, human torture, human testing, gore?, blood, canon-typical violence, unethical human experiments, kidnapping, child abuse, malnutrition, child neglect, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 3.6k (A/N): credit to @bluegiragi’s monster 141 designs.

They were tipped off by an anonymous source that some shady and highly illegal things were being done in a small and remote town near the border of Belarus, their ongoings unknown to both the government and public of their country, but someone had given Laswell a file containing all the horrific tests conducted within the closed walls of the innocuous-looking compound —a laboratory dressed as a simple military base. The folder held snapshots of emails and files sent between scientists and researchers, small indications of what was being done to both humans and monsters, yet withholding important intel about certain things. It disclosed the location, the names and faces of every worker and leading figure in the compound, the number of security and their schedules, and what was done, but not what was truly happening, it left small clues, sublet words here and there with hidden meanings —never clear images, blurry ones as if the person was in a rush.

Despite not having clear indications of the illegal activities, Laswell had enough to have 141 sent to take it down, to bring the dehumanising lab to its ground and burn it down. She didn’t have trouble convincing them, it was telling enough to let them read the condensed files for them to read, to see themselves the monstrosity being done to children and monsters they took, kidnapped from around the world to be left at the deceitful hands of crazed scientists. There wasn’t much to be found outside it, the base wore the facade of a benevolent patron, bearing the crest of kindhearted investors wanting to rebuild rundown houses and reconstruct rough and broken roads and paved streets in the town they took to hide. It worked for the most part, they profited from this by acting without raising any suspicion from anyone, neither the authorities nor the people. 

“Christ,” Gaz swore, looking down at the words in the file he received, the teased truth and the dreadful treatments through a thick layer of secrets and subtle wording, the only clear intel was from the straightforward emails sent to and from researchers and the heads of the facility, unabashed and shameless bragging of their success and the narrative to which these subjects could be used. “Why did it take so long?”

A recurrent theme of these was about a certain subject, it was about C34, spoken with such pride and joy about their creation, the work of the new world and the future made within these walls. Most emails were the exchanges between them about C34’s training, the ongoing treatments and every successful mission and exercises, they spoke of C34 as if they were a dog, a rabid mutt they captured and took on the task of domesticating it. It was demeaning, degrading and cruel, to look at another being as something lower, something needing domestication —it went against every rule and law put in place to protect humanity, the many conventions sworn to protect the goodwill and security of the innocents.

“We’ve had our suspicions before,” Laswell sighed, the images of the screen switching with the small click of her control, laser pointing at the images of various weapons cache and illegally procured weapons. “There was a slip up in the shipping, it was dropped here-” she motioned to a circled area in the map, a closeup of a secluded road near the town, “and we were able to retrace it to the facility. We needed more intel about the facility before acting and we needed to know what we're facing here, if we should send a team or send you.”

“What now?” Price tilted his head back, smoke leaving the sides of his frown, a deep and unpleasant one. He couldn’t even look at the intel given with a straight face, the shadowed truth of cruelty and dehumanising acts done by humans. “Figured you send us after seeing this, Laswell?”

Laswell nodded, jumping to another slide, showing blurred images of subject C34, a blurry figure, tall and imposing in every way possible. They stood high, stature seemingly one belonging to a monster or hybrid: on four legs and the wide, familiar shape of wings, everything about C34 cried monster. Perhaps one they captured as a child, taken from their mother and kept in this cell. There were many pictures of this one, blurry and disfigured, but others had smaller shapes, the size of children with various characteristics. 

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus!” Soap spat, disgust dripping from his tone in waves, unending as were the other’s curses, each holding their level of horror and repugnance. His face was wound tight, brows dipped lowly and lips pursed, he balled his fists, anger rising within him with every image he saw, the deplorable conditions and the care given to the monsters —what could they even expect from this shady company engineering monster and human DNA to fit their preferred narrative, for money, for reputation, for strength. “We ‘ave tae do somethin’ about this, Price!”

Soap - Johnny - had always been the more emotional one, letting his good heart lead his decisions when the situation seemed to fit it. His wolf made him more susceptible to emotional attachment, a pack mentality driven deeply into his mind and heart, he was viciously loyal and wore his heart on his sleeve, uncaring of how he’d be hurt by a betrayal, he simply saw the best in the world, something many couldn’t after a while, but Soap could, Johnny was a good man at heart. That’s why he reacted the most out of everyone, voicing his distaste and hate, his need for revenge and the sanctity of the lives being stolen in the facility. 

Soap pushed Price to agree, seeing no reason not to lead the breach, to uncover everything done to innocent lives. His eyes connected to the man hidden in the darkness, his blue eyes gleaming with fierce justice, a contrast to the wraith who lay in silence, abhorrent and seething quietness. Ghost peered at him, head tilted up with white pupils darkened by black eyes, death layering off him with calmness. He gave Soap a curt nod, affirmation for him to continue to voice his mind, to help those in need. 

“Seems like it’s been decided, Kate,” Price gave her a lopsided smirk, amber eyes narrowed with what could be read as anger, teeth sinking into the girth of his cigar, ash falling. “When are we going?”

Her lips parted in a proud grin, eyes gleaming with something dark and wrathful. She leaned on the table, head held high and shoulder broad while she flicked off the projector:

“Wheels up at 1500 tomorrow.”

You stared down the man before you, watching him tremble under your cold gaze, steps hesitant to approach you despite being seated, body prone on the hard floor you called a bed. He was new, possibly recently employed and his boss - or his direct manager - played a dirty game with him. It was some kind of rite of passage for every new employee courageous enough to accept their recruitment, all bright-eyed geniuses wanting to build their place on earth with forthgoing discovery, desperate and narcissistic; yet they were so easily tricked into you cage, locked in by cackling and grinning guards and coworkers. 

He smelled young, fresh-faced and a bit nervous, most were when they first saw you. You remembered everyone who walked in, the smell of fear and anxiety, the disgusting scent oozing off their bodies, rotten and putrid like a rotting corpse. You would’ve gagged and choked if you weren’t used to it, having grown close to the smell of death, calling the reaper your friend. You weren’t bothered by him, only the cart he was wheeling over, a big and heavy cooler that smelled fresh. He was made to bring you food by his boss, a cruel joke played on every new scientist who was always so eager to meet you before cowering in terror once the lock clicked. 

Standing before your third cage, he unlocked the small hatch and, with effort and a loud grunt, pushed the cooler into the hole, big enough for a big cooler but small enough to fit your arm through it. You waited until he stumbled away, distancing him from you before reaching for the container, it was light, weighing little in your palm. They fed you raw meat, sometimes buying the fresh catch of a Belarus hunter, usually an elk or a wild boar, but if they were lucky, a bison or a bear, other times they would have conserved meat shipped from outside the town, bigger cities or outside the border. 

Today was an elk, the meat cold and free of rot, it smelled as good as a fresh kill did, bloody and heady. You ripped into it without care, tuning out the loud retch from the scientist as you gorged on your meal, claws tearing it in half and biting into the bloody meat. Blood rolled down your lip, painting your cheeks crimson and staining the cream-coloured rag they considered a shirt. It would be changed after your meal, as it always was. Despite the elk weighing around six hundred kilograms, you finished it quickly, with pointed teeth cutting and pulling flaps of meat and ligament, blood spraying and dirtying the metal ground near the hatch. 

It was filling, albeit cold. You cleaned your hands of blood, licking it off like a grooming cat, tongue laving over the sharp edge of your claw and under your blunt fingernails. You peered at him from under your lashes, eyes gleaming in the darkness. You watched - pleased with yourself - him shudder, face growing green with unnerve at your show. You knew he was desperate to leave, to get a breath of fresh air outside of your cell, you understood his fear and wanted him to suffer for helping your owner, the man watching over your training, but you wanted him gone before he emptied his stomach on your floor. So you pushed the cooler out, clawed arm breaching past the hatch to leave it farther from your cage. 

He left hastily, legs shaky and face pale. 

“I want a bison next time,” you growled, words rolling off your tongue huskily from its rare use. 

It looked as inconspicuous through the NVGs as it did in the pictures, a few grey buildings built lowly to hide an immense labyrinth dug into the ground, secret passages crossing unending halls with locked doors and tipped with surveillance cameras to watch over the whole facility. They studied the very walls that made this place a secret fortress, from the body to its heart, like mounting a brigade against a castle, Laswell’s team found the few hidden entrances that connected to the lesser-used passages, winding through many hallways and wide vents, big enough for humans but too tight for monsters the size of C34. Task Force 141 led the mission, infiltrating the base under the darkness of night where they could crawl and slink through shadows to catch what they hunted. They were joined by Marines, all experienced and skillful, wearing scars like a badge of honour. It would either be a quick in and out, or a long and strenuous infiltration. 

Price took Gaz and led half of the Marines through the west, breaching the lab from above. They pushed in steadily, relaying information and physical cues to Watcher - Laswell - with a body cam recording everything they saw, the facade they wore above ground, hiding their dark enterprise. Ghost, as usual, has Soap watch his six, following closely behind him with puppy-like loyalty and the other half of the Marines. Team Two’s - Delta - mission started through the underground passage they sniffed out, a long and unwinding hall that went straight through the heart of the facility. Ghost’s team went dark, needing the cover of silence to stay hidden in a highly protected area of the base to run this clandestine mission. They spoke only when needing to, to make calls, to reaffirm intel or to let both Bravo and Watcher know a change, the tech team in the temporary safe house a few miles away from the compound watched through the cams, from the subtle change in the air to a jarring lead to what was happening. 

While Price and Gaz worked on creating a distraction, taking a load off team Delta’s shoulders, they could work through the system faster and more efficiently with the fire taken off their backs and front. It was controlled chaos for both teams, creating a mass discordance within the enemy lines: panicked higher-ups at the sudden attack, while they had a small squad of personal soldiers, they were unprepared, taken by surprise by both teams attacking on two fronts; and confused mercenaries, their quiet and boring schedules made them lose the edge of suspicion, of wariness towards what awaited them and the sheltered job with little to no action apart from a few failed escape attempts by the subjects.

“Delta 0-1 moving in,” Ghost mumbled into the coms, his team following him closely, rifle held tightly with the muzzle pointed forward as they crossed the threshold of section C, heading towards the one holding the monster subjects. 

They left behind them groups of bodies, slumped over the walls or limp on the ground, blood painting the sterilised and glossy walls, turning the once white hall into a grotesque place, dead bodies covering the length of the corridor like the ones they walked through before, leaving the stench of death that even the Marines could sniff out. It wasn’t clean - they weren’t aiming for it to be clean - but they wouldn’t need it to be clean when the Laswell would send a clean-up team to deal with this, Ghost would steal a bite before they arrived, quenching his hunger for revenge with them. 

A few guards stayed to watch over the cells, doors unlocked by a keycard that most guards kept in their back pocket, Ghost would have to take one off a dead body. Under Ghost’s cover, Soap dashed to the other side of the hall, taking a few with him to corner the mercenaries, boxing them into a closed hallway until they all died. Despite a few of the Marines taking shots, bruising the skin under their plate, black and blue blossoming like a bloody flower under the thin layer of skin, they kept their heads high and minds clear, moving forward without a misstep or hesitation. Soap swiped a few cards from the bodies, throwing one to Ghost. 

“Delta 0-1 to Watcher, can you hear me?”

“Solid copy, Ghost,” Laswell voice rang out clearly, reaching his ears in seconds.

“We found the cells,” his eyes roved over them, white paint over thick, cement walls to hold whatever they locked into the cells, perhaps the children the saw or the big one, C34.

“Do you have the keycards?”

“Affirm,” Ghost growled slowly, hearing Laswell's confirmation to continue. “Going in.”

He tapped the pad, a loud beep ringing in their ears as the lock’s mechanism creaked to life, unlatching from its metal hold to let them in. Both he and Soap walked in, leaving the others to watch their backs while they surveyed the first room. It was dimly lit as it was bare of any decorations apart from a visible toilet, a small sink and a few metal beds. It looked like any usual cells they came across, made barren and empty of anything useful to prevent the prisoners from escaping or causing a ruckus, but the people they kept in these cells were children. Soap swore under his breath at the sight of children huddled together, seemingly no older than 12, he lowered his rifle. They were backed into a corner, three older kids holding a younger one in their arms, protecting her from them, from whoever meant to harm these children. 

They looked malnourished, left to slowly rot in these cement boxes until the scientist found something worthwhile in them, their cheeks sunken in, eyes droopy and swollen with bruises - they were beaten, it made something ugly rear its head inside Ghost dead heart - and lips dried. One was armless, having wings that they used to cover both of their cellmates, naked with only feathers covering their body, this one looked more like a harpy than it did human. The two others had arms, both having the lower half of a mammal, neither of them was sure which four-legged mammal it was, but one had a pair of wings, while the other’s back was bare of anything. 

“We’ve found the children.”

You could hear the chaos from your cell, the blaring alarm and the smell of death. The building shook from its foundation, vibration emanating from both the ground floor and the basement, just farther from your hall, the closed and sectioned-off area. They separated you from the defective ones, all your young mistakes they made after achieving success —you. They tried to recreate it, but it never came out how they wanted it. Maybe it was a mistake on their part or maybe it was the lack of a certain gene in their DNA, a subtle difference that you and the rest had. You didn’t want to know and you didn’t want them to succeed a second time, it was painful, the shift, the tests and the change, the storm of pain, terror and confusion weren’t worth this power. 

You could hear the booming sound of gunfire, a loud ricochet of the bullet when the nitrocellulose sparked and sent the bullet outwards, finding its destination in the warm flesh of human guards. You usually enjoyed this kind of chaos if you knew what started it, and laughed when something caused trouble for your captors, but you were cautious of this one. You neither knew who thought to disturb the peace nor did you know who was behind this, their scents strange and the sound of steps unknown. All you knew was that their steps were heavy, out of breath but pushing their way into - what you thought to be - section C. The place they kept the young and willful. 

You might be blinded by your cell, but the guards outside your confinement knew how to talk, their chatter and barking orders loud enough for you to hear through the thick walls. From them, you knew they were strangers, unknown players on your board of pawns. You didn’t know their goal, whether they were here to let you out or keep you in a cage of their making, but you knew they were a gamble on your fate. As the noise got closer, you sat down, crossed your paws and waited, cautiously awaiting to see what your verdict would be.

Strangely enough, there was a different section, separated from the other one by many gates and stricter security, but they were able to break through it. Security was concentrated in one hall as if the monster they locked at the end of this hallway was of big importance. It had higher security, stronger and thicker. Ghost wondered if it was to keep the monster in or keep people out, either way, this meant that they found the thing they first came here for: the trained and dangerous subject C34. 

Ghost was apprehensive about opening this metal door, built taller than any doors he’d seen, it was as wide as it was tall, metres over what would be considered normal for a human or monster, similar to the wide gates that protected British castles, tall and imposing, but the most worrying was it’s vast amount of security measures. He thought back to the blurrier giant he saw in the picture, their shape indescribable and otherworldly, almost alien-like. His eyes met Soap’s reassuring ones, standing steadfast and unyielding to do good in the world. So with a nod, Ghost worked through the locks and scans of the heavy, metal door made to keep this cement cage closed. This door clicked loudly, echoing down the hall with ominous intent, foreseeing something damming and destructive. 

Yet they hadn’t expected to see another cage within the cage, a box made of reinforced glass, large and robust and inside of it was another cage, a rough metal one with bars for walls, a sick joke of a bird’s gilded cage. It would’ve seemed almost exaggerated to have three layers - three different cages - to keep one subject safely locked up until he caught sight of the monster. Lying on the cold, metal ground with legs folded in, tail curled around them and staring at both him and Soap with cautious curiosity. It looked like a gryphon if it were more reptilian than a mammal, this monster had a human torso, a head wearing a stoic expression, dressed in rags. Where there would normally be legs was the body of a bird, an eagle perhaps from the golden-brown plumage and reptilian legs from the knee down, followed by a fully scaled back, hind legs and a strong tail. Each toe was tipped with a sharp claw, big and deadly if it got its hands on someone, it could easily rip into anyone without putting in much effort. The biggest thing about it was the folded wings, feathered and equipped with a talon. If it could fly, these wings would be powerful. 

He understood why they kept it locked, it was neither man, monster or hybrid. It was a beast of human creation, a creature made to be at the peak of its condition. It was smart, he could see it, the glint in its eyes and the pursed lips, mien kept monotone and calm —observant. 

What did Laswell sign them into? 

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