Decomposition: The Valkyries

[Skuld]

  The whir of helicopter rotors eases as we touch down to the forest based garbage facility. Before I can get bearings, a grotesque scent assaults my nostrils, mounds of trash envelop my vision, the occasional plastic bag violently forced away from our landing zone, as our vehicle's blades create a whirlwind of refuse around us. Not too eager to consent to the foul odors, I pull up my mask, blocking off the evil smell, directing the other members of the squad to do the same, lest it distract them from competent mission conduct. Trudging forward through the mounds of rusted cars, broken toys, the occasional marking station, whereas the actual facility is a vague impression on the outskirts of the horizon, we arrive at the first Hive growth. As if by miracle, the rotting stench has increased tenfold, breaching my mask, but risk of attack by the adversary lends a fervent speed, and I start clearing waste to allow for the drill to puncture through, and that's when I see it. A lifeless appendage, perhaps a hand, and desperation latches on to my heart, and I claw at the remaining rubbish, revealing a ring of corpses round  the Hive, tendrils bonding them to it, gaunt eyes burning into me. Whatever new occurrence this may be, I know with clarity that the dead workers are fertilizing the Hive growth, like some twisted version of true decomposition. The sight disgusts my fellows, and I allow them a few fleeting moments to steel their stomachs. Once again gathered, I place the drill, flinching as it cracks through bone, and we await the arrival of the Cryptids. For several anxiety-filled minutes none but the shriek of the drill is heard, no enemy, adrenaline laced blood calms to normality. There was nothing. No pools of acid burning the soles of our boots, no talons tearing into flesh, after what may have been just 10 minutes, the sickening pop is heard, and we watch the Hive collapse upon itself. Pushing the curiosity aside, I point the team onward, towards the next target.

 

  That's when we hear it. Shrieks, piercing calls the noise burrowing into my skull, resounding across my mind. Shadows lapped at the edges of my sight, prowlers provoking fear within my stomach. But without warning the screams ceased. A calm before a storm. Then, out the surrounding garbage, pounced our attackers, the freakish insectoids trying to rip away limbs. Military experience, no, will, failed us then we hesitated staring at the monsters facing us. They were skinny, but well muscled, minor exoskeleton covering their bodies, pronged horns like that of a dung beetle. Teeth bared I fired, whereas Tom, perhaps James, I just hadn't learned their names, too many die, stood dumbfounded. He was the first to go, wailing as they packed around his flesh, gouging him, but that was to be expected, what happened following, was not. Before we could continue the battle, they simply dragged his corpse away, without even the most modest regard for the bullets firing into their forms. I wanted to run after, save him, save a dead man, cowardice stopped me, halted us all. Guilt clouded thought afterwards, depression, I remember little. Just periods of silence interrupted by those eerie shrieks, and the loss of another man, and us all watching the beasts drag the bodies through the junk. I finally collapsed at my goal, the Hive, alone mayhaps  aided by another survivor, truthfully I was too long gone by then to even care. Begrudgingly I shuffled back up, placed the drill, and did the same old procedure, wiping off the point of contact for the drill. I should have expected it, I must have honestly thought those damn Cryptids took their corpses to some heavenly pile of refuse, but the blow to my psyche preempted all that dribble, and instead I looked upon the festering faces of my squad. I cried. I was a grown man and I just wailed, cursing whatever gods I could dredge up. It was folly, because as soon as the sorrow ebbed away, I noticed the sound hadn't stopped. Shrill cries in tandem with my own. This time I just sat in place, felt eager hands surround me, strapping me in with my fellows. Shelter for shelter, company for company, I felt woozy as the Hive enveloped me, but I had a clarity enough to watch as those of my squad beckoned me along, we'd stay together, all feeding the Hive. Loyalty to each other, to the Hive.

 

  Valkyries: Cryptids resembling that of a seeker mixed with the common Dung beetle, they ensure Hives are well kept. Prowling in the background they shall await a kill by their brethren, to gather aroundst a corpse, dragging the dying soldiers to the next nearest Hive to serve as a fertilizer of sorts. The steady supply of deceased to a Hive Growth increases it's regeneration ability.

 

  In game: Seldom provoked to attack a player alone, Valkyries will wait until he is downed, and then proceed to drag him to a Hive not currently being drilled upon. Ignorant of any bullets, they can only be stopped by death, but be forewarned, even with the intention of saving an ally from being enveloped into a Hive, when a Valkyrie has its grip on a player, that same player may be subjected to friendly fire. Should the Valkyries succeed in placing him on a Hive, and he dies, that Hive will now require a longer amount of time to be drilled. Considering such, allowing an ally to die at the hands of several Valkyrie only serves to detriment the entire match, as players must then endure greater waves of enemies. At higher rounds, losing a player to a Valkyrie, can mean a couple more Rhinos to do in the survivors.

 

(The above is merely a concept I'd enjoy being introduced to Extinction, written and completed 3/6/2014)

Edited May 29, 2014 by Skuld