Corporal RAMBO: MYCETE {Carlos Oliveira Fanfiction}

Chapter 26: Not A Hero

Dorothy's plan indeed came to fruition. What was once a beautiful tourist attraction is now a Warzone. Chris, Timothee and Carlos met with the other BSAA as soon as they arrived at the hospital. "Where are we taking the people tonight?" Carlos looked at Chris while reloading his pump shotgun.

"Outside the city." Chris brushed past them with his gun on the side facing the floor. Carlos didn't ask no more for he knows Chris has a lot running in his mind right now and there's no time to dilly-dally. The double glass doors that were once two turned to a million. Lights flickered and blood draped the clean white walls.

"Heads up! 10 o'clock!" Yelled Carlos. A molded came into sight, flailed its arms but Chris was quick enough to give it a good punch on the face. The molded stumbled for a short moment and charged once more. Carlos fired straight to the head, almost loosing his balance when the recoil sent the shotgun pointing towards the ceiling.

"Sir Chris!" A group of males stopped in front of them. Carrying different kinds of firearms. The man in the center with gray hair and mustache, gave Chris a salute. "Are you guys alright?"

The man frantically nodded. " We're here for your orders Sir Chris!" They all looked expectantly at Chris.

" Well," He cleared his throat. " Take as may survivors as you can. A-and-" Chris stammered. His listeners pointed at something from behind. The latter turned around and saw Timothee at the entrance with his arm up high. His hands contracted and a molded's head burst into pieces. He then hid his hand and walked as if nothing happened.

Chris raised his two brows and muttered. "O-kay?" His head went back to its old position and he snapped his fingers. The guys closed their alligator jaws and now paid full attention to him. "Once you're done, get the hell outta here." The males answered back a 'yes sir' simultaneously before stalking away from the captain.

"Careful." Chris warned when Timothee got closer to where he is. The smaller male scowled. "There's no point in just standing there and watch these innocent people cry while getting their necks bitten by those things as if they're mozzarella cheese." Timothee snapped.

Their heads darted to the entrance when a car horn started blaring. Seven. Timothee said in his mind while wearing his leather gloves. He spotted seven molded hugging the car and shaking it side to side, thanks to his heightened senses. Chris looked down and sighed.

"Do you really have to do this?" He asked in a 'seriously?' tone. Timothee adjusted the tightness of the glove and closed open his hands until they're comfortable around his fingers. "They'll find out eventually, Chris. Somebody's gotta help." With no final remarks, Timothee strode outside. The person inside screamed for his life inside his car while the others just watched in fear. Timothee dully noted the amount of eyes watching and lifted his arms and outstretched his left palm. His hand trembled and all seven of the molded floated from the floor. Hitting the air around them.

The parking lot was mess. Like a maze of cars. Before he can pop the molded's brains out, he did the same thing to his right arm. The cars close to the victim drove on its own. Aligning itself properly to create space for the grand finale. Timothee grunted when he felt a pulse on the back of his head. Fucking headaches. The woman with a red car- which is the first car Timothee moved- gripped her steering wheel tight as her tires effortlessly parked properly without hitting a curb.

Alas, Timothee got the leisure to do what he had to. The victim's car backed up on its own and the molded's heads exploded one by one. For a split second, Timothee thought the citizens would cower in fear or worse, curse at him. However, he saw something else. Something... new.