Watchtower/communications facility
A few surviving soldiers had holed themselves up in the destroyed watchtower, fighting off the remaining rebel troops. Most had a few injuries, those with the highest ranks gave the orders as a few technicians tried to get the Comms running again to send out a call for help. On the cliffs just beside the fallen tower, a squad of survivors picked off rebels with a few snipers they took from storage crates. They were helping, if only a little. Most of them were prone, laying in different positions along the cliff edge. Three sat back with binoculars, giving the positions of easy kills and talking over the short-ranged Comms to soldiers scattered across the base.
From behind them, a shadow approached, looming over the three at the back. Before they could shout out, the three were dead, their throats all slit in one sudden manoeuvre. The remaining four were all taking shots, leaving them as easy kills. The figure stabbed the first one in the head, pulling the blade out quietly before speeding to decapite the next two. The final sniper noticed the figure in the reflection of her watch. She turned quickly, aiming up, the muzzle inches away from the figure's mask as she fired off, her head hitting the ground from the recoil.
The smoke left the barrel, obscuring the sniper's view for a second before she saw. Her eyes widened, a hint of despair consumed her. The bullet was left idol between the figure's index and middle finger. Creepily, the figure loomed over her, showing off their bloodied up mask as the fire below illuminated it.
Tears formed in her eyes as her lip shook, the figure leaned back, staring up at the sky as they flung the bullet away, the same hand coming up to slowly wipe blood off the mask, making the mask slightly clear. Looking back down, the figure then wrapped his hands around the woman's throat as she choked, her legs instinctively pushing up as her hands tried to fight back the pressure. All she could see was a blurry sight of the mask, just calmly watching the life leave her eyes. The fires raged below as the watchtower crumbled some more, the figure applying more pressure until the woman's body went limp, her glasses sliding off her face.
Back in the now imploding watchtower ruins, the remaining soldiers made their last stand as the rebel frigate fired off a few salvos of missiles, just missing the control room where the Comms were nearly reconnected.
One soldier was working on the comms, twisting different knobs, amping different slides and pressing different buttons - it all seemed in vain. He was young, seeming only 18-19. He was sweating profusely as four, more experienced troops held the doorway, five more gunned down rebels and held the hallway. One of the four glanced past his shoulder and shouted back.
'Hey, How much longer damn it!?'
The young man shook, a tear falling down his cheek as he tried to get words out.
'I... I don't know!'
A few rebels made it into the hallway, gunned down three of the five and threw a grenade, taking out the other two as they tried to escape. It was just the four at the door holding them off. In the corner of his eye, the young man looked over to the a corner of the room, a kid, even younger than him was shuddering, his legs pulled into his chest as his arms cradled his head, his body rocking as he murmured random words. It got louder and louder as the gunshots came closer, it was like a screaming kettle that never stopped.
Screams and shouts erupted outside. One of the four in the doorway leaned out, checking the hallway of bodies. They couldn't see anything, but they heard it - the screams and yells eventually all went quiet, so did the gunshots. They heard blood splattering just a few feet away.
Just outside the ruins, the last of the rebels crawled back, stammering in his words as his face was shook with fear and blood, one of his arms just a bloody stump, the attachment thrown off by another body. The masked figure walked over to him slowly and eerily, holding up a piece of paper, lightly charred on the corners. In blood, there were only three words written:
Took too long.
The last frightened scream shook the group as blood stained over the window panel. The young man's eyes shook as he froze up, hands stiffening over the buttons, his legs reactively stepping back from the glass. The four behind him immediately switched their aim to the window where a body was chucked through, crashing the glass across the room and disorientating the soldiers as the figure leapt in, gazed over at the four and zoomed over, stabbing one in the neck. The others each opened fire - the bullets either bouncing off or just getting stuck in the suit. The masked figure wore a YNS, standard weapons were relatively useless.
Standing up over the corpse, the figure lifted their left leg and thrust it backwards with such power and speed that it broke the neck of the soldiers behind them, almost like how a horse would kick a nuisance. In quick succession, the figure then sliced open the other two's stomachs as their innards started to spill out, leaving them to choke on their own blood. The young man fell back against the panel of buttons as he shook, watching the figure lean down and grab a pistol off one of the corpses.
They turned and slowly made their way to the scared young man, aiming the gun to his head before the tilting their head, almost like a doll. The young man's breath was caught in his throat before the figure fired off a single shot between his eyes. They stared down at the body fall back, sliding down the panel as blood from the head stained the buttons. The figure then proceeded to fire off the rest of the magazine into the corpse, twisting their head to stare at the soldier in the corner, their last seconds a horrific mess. After the mag was empty, the figure discarded the gun and picked up a grenade, approaching the shaking soldier before grabbing his wrist, causing him to flinch as the figure place the device into his palm, their index finger hooking on the pin before pulling it off. The soldier's eyes went blank as they finally looked up at the figure. With a final gesture, the figure waved goodbye like a puppet before leaping out the window as the explosion erupted within the comms room.
As of now, no help was to arrive for the survivors.
The figure took a walk down the airstrip, carelessly stepping on bodies as they wiped blood from their mask, flicking the excess onto the puddles of it below.
Chapter 24- end