/vt/ - Virtual Youtubers

That was almost twenty-four hours ago. Now you and your team were on a chopper, and you were being briefed on the mission. Just as Botan had explained to you yesterday, this mysterious company, Cover, was on the hunt for an artifact of unknown origin, resembling a statue of black marble. She wasn’t hiding any of the details - at least, not to you - and that she only knew you weren’t allowed to handle it directly. Once you found it, your squad was to light up a signal flare and wait for evac. You were given an approximate location and being dropped a few miles outside of the zone. Botan explained that they weren’t expecting any resistance, but to remain cautious and approach on foot.

Before you knew it, your feet were on solid ground in a clearing. The rapid beat of the helicopter’s rotors was slowly dying off in the distance as they made their way to some far off holding pattern.

“Porter, take point. We’re heading east from here,” Botan instructed. The late afternoon sunlight glinted off of Porter’s glasses as he nodded, and your squad set off through the towering trees. Each of you were dressed in simple, thin kevlar vests, dark, baggy combat pants, and all-terrain boots. Even Botan, normally dressed in some kind of Adidas-style tank top and skirt, was sporting proper military gear that hid her tail. You double-checked to ensure your pistol was holstered to your belt and your assault rifle was strapped across your chest, and the four of you pressed onwards through the woods.

Not knowing what exactly lied ahead filled you with a sense of unease. You were used to running security detail for VIPs or guarding government lab complexes. Sometimes they were odd jobs, but this… This was different territory. An hour had passed as your squad trekked through the steadily darkening forest. Porter had clicked on his shoulder-mounted flashlight after Johnson remarked about hearing some footsteps in the distance, and you were all on high alert. Botan’s ears twitched as she stood abreast with you, her silver eyes darting left and right as you took a moment to stop and observe.

“It’s just an animal,” Botan concluded after a moment, exhaling slowly. Her lion ears were probably fine tuned for natural environments like these. Porter’s flashlight swung forward, and just ahead, there was a small clearing he lit up. Whether that was your destination or just a place to stop and rest, you weren’t sure. In fact, you were never going to be sure. In that very moment, something had descended from the trees and pinned Johnson to the forest floor.

“The fuck? Hey! Ger’off of-'' he cried out, scrambling and rolling around with a dark figure. Porter whirled around, illuminating the assailant for only a moment - it leapt off of Johnson and darted back between the trees before you could get a proper look at it. That’s when you saw the knife sticking out of Johnson’s throat. His body was twitching on the ground, his voice muffled by wet gurgles as he choked on his own blood. You scramble to draw the pistol strapped to your hip, but by the time you turned on the underslung flashlight and pointed it in the direction of the figure, it was gone.

Your blood was pulsing uncomfortably fast beneath your skin. Adrenaline flooded your brain, and your base instincts kept shifting back and forth between fight and flight. Without even looking at her, you could feel Botan tensing up beside you. The three of you continuously shifted your gazes from side to side, backing up together to form a sort of small triangle in an effort to cover each other’s blind spots. If there was just a close-range combatant, you wouldn’t be caught by surprise, right?

But you were wrong. You feel Porter shift and aim his rifle, evidently lining up his sights at some distant foe you couldn’t see. Before he has an opportunity to pull the trigger, you hear the unmistakable sounds of bullets piercing flesh. Porter’s body briefly staggers back into you and Botan, before slipping to the ground. You hadn’t even heard the gunshots. Was there more than one assailant? Were they using silencers? You twist your body, aiming both the gun and the mounted flashlight in the direction where Porter had been looking. Surely enough, there was a thinner tree at the edge of his line of sight, and you could barely make out a pair of legs standing behind it. You squeeze off a couple of shots, and you’re rewarded with the stumbling and scrambling of the distant figure as one of your bullets hits them somewhere in the ankle.