Can't Say

Chapter 32

      The north side of the house - the front door - was your designated point of infiltration. There were more places for you to stop and hide between there and the barn, too. Toby had a fair distance of 200 yards before his first hiding spot, which was a huge oak tree with plenty of low-hanging branches. Toby was faster than you, though. He would cover the distance before being noticed, surely. 
      You reached the first spot; a young oak tree with only its trunk to put between yourself and the house. Luckily, it was wide enough to block any direct line-of-sight, but you felt your body shrink at the idea that it wasn't good enough. A stolen peek at the house's windows and surrounding areas gave you the all-clear to keep moving. So far, you hadn't noticed anyone spotting your dark figure in the night.
      The next spot pulled you away from the house, but you had a better angle to see the garage door on the far side. The huge, motor-controlled door was fully closed. Probably for the best, at the moment, so no one could be watching from within. There was an octagonal, tower-like section sunken to the house between the garage and front porch. Four of the six walls on the first floor of this Tudor revival each had a large window. According to the house prints, that was the sun room. You couldn't quite tell if anyone was watching from inside, due to your distance away, but you sprinted out to the next young oak tree, anyway.
      So far, so good. No sudden glares of lights. No alarms blaring in the air. No screaming or gunfire. Your team hadn't screwed up, yet.
      You carefully scanned over the the small, concrete sub-porch that was decorated with two white, Greek-style columns. A number of silvery cans were strung across the open space between the columns; a simple way to alert the residents inside. The main porch looked empty of traps, though you mentally noted the possibility of hidden tripwires and such. All you could see were a few rocking chairs, accompanied by a small stand between each pair, and a picnic table near the Tudor-style extension of the house.
      Speaking of which, upon closer inspection of the sun room, you saw no shadow of a person spying back at you. Not that you could see into it clear as day, but your night vision, enhanced by the bright moonlight, was enough to see some detail and furniture within the room.
      You made a break for the porch.
      As soon as you reached the small steps that led to the sub porch, you dove and rolled under line of cans, then hopped back to your feet in a low crouch. Another set of small steps bridged the height gap to the main, wooden porch. You glanced both directions down the length of the already wide platform as though about to cross a street, then crept up to the front door. The two slim, stained-glass widows on either side of the solid door didn't aid in your endeavor to see what waited beyond. Though many of the traps had been noted on the prints, the foyer was one of the unknown areas.
      The door was locked - as expected. You checked the windows lining the sun room, then the window between it and the garage. All were locked. Upon further inspection, you found that the windows wouldn't be unlockable from the outside. You'd be forced to break the glass if you wanted in there. That would make far too much noise for a stealth mission, so you opted to try your luck with the front door.
      Since you didn't carry any lockpicking tools, your only option was to use your knives to unscrew the fixed doorknob and its deadbolt counterpart - similar to what you had done at Edea Carter's home. Hopefully, this time, you could prevent the other half from falling out of the door and making a ton of unnecessary racket.
      Just as you wiggled the tip of your knife into one of the screws, the thunder of a pistol cracked the air from inside. You jolted, initially thinking that the very screw had been pressure-sensitive. After a quick glance around, you saw no trace of a bullet impact anywhere nearby. It happened elsewhere. You hoped that none of your teammates had met the business end of the gun, then you gathered your wits again and returned to getting the door open.
      You kept your head leaned on the door's form, aiming an ear to listen for any unwanted movement from within the house. So far, all that entered your patient ear was the soft scraping of your knife and the screws dancing in circles.
      Once the door knob and deadbolt were loosened from their hold, you managed to keep them from falling apart, while still leaving enough of a gap to work the locks open from inside the mechanism. One satisfied click. Two satisfied clicks. A gentle, yet firm, push on the door granted you access to the large house - finally.
      After a short round of tango with the door, you peeked inside, crouched as you tried to keep yourself small. There was a bantam foyer, which opened to a short hallway. You ignored the entrances to the living room and dining room on either side of the said hallway, noticing the bypass glass door that led to the back patio. It had been left ajar well enough for a person to slide in. Toby must have used that entrance. No scent of blood entered your nostrils, so he must have successfully avoided the gun rigged to the door. At that thought, you glanced up in an attempt to spot the pistol that was said to be mounted on the ceiling near the staircase, but the rise in the ceiling at the end of the hallway caused an awkward angle. No big deal.
      You made your way into the foyer, knowing that you were falling behind from the others. Your first step, however, failed you.
      The petite rug just inside the foyer was covering a false floor. Your forward foot had only caught the edge of this man-made hole by the arch. The heel of your boot hooked to the safer part of the floor, but your momentum had you fall forward, anyway. Luckily, the trap wasn't large enough to swallow your knees, and you were able to catch yourself on the other side. You felt the tips of large nails bite into the soles of your boots, but they didn't pierce through.
       Just as you had caught your fall, face nearly impacting with the floor, you heard a - pop! - and the shattering of glass in front of you. What else had happened here? Before you could look up, your nose and airways began to burn as though you had inhaled an invisible fire. 
      Gas. You didn't know what kind of gas, but it wasn't good for your health.
      You exhaled everything in your lungs and refused to draw anything back in. Scrambling backward, you pushed yourself outside, nails and other metallic objects falling from your boots as they lost their grip. You rolled back in a desperate aim to get out faster, then closed the door behind you, immediately gasping for fresh air once you felt safe. As you panted, nose running from the intense irritation of its passageway linings, you stared out beyond the dark yard and wondered what to do now. The growls of large dogs rumbled from above on the second floor. They were soon hushed, though not before one of the dogs attempted a warning bark.
      Surely, with all the noise of the gunshot and jar of gas breaking - not to mention the dogs announcing your team's arrival - you had broken any cover that the four of you once held. This mission was already showing signs of failure. Was it worth continuing?
      A pale orb from far past the pond caught your eye. You realized that Slenderman was watching, keeping cover behind the scattered trees. Whether he was concerned or judging, you couldn't tell. The sight of him urged you to move on, though, for fear of what punishment he might bestow upon you if you didn't. Sitting there, already beaten at the beginning of a mission was intolerable. There were other ways inside. You would have to use one that your teammates had already cleared, otherwise, you'd fall even further behind them.
      Pushing your body to its feet, you finished catching your breath and rounded the house to the back patio. At least you were certain of that entrance being safe. Everything else would be guess-work until you reached other known traps. Surely, those were already disabled?
      The air stung as it rushed back and forth through your raw airways. There was little you could do about it, so you fought through the pain; it was at least tolerable now. You peeked through the glass patio door, scanning the area as you warily breathed the interior air. To your right was the open kitchen. Three sawed-off shotguns were mounted on stands and aimed to each of the three windows. Toby must have seen them - not that they were hard to spot - while looking for his own way in. To your left was a long and narrow hall of some sort, only interrupted by a folding door a few feet down its length. Trusting that your teammate had already inspected the dark area, you moved forward to the staircase ahead. You held your breath, knowing that the gas in the foyer had most likely spread a fair distance by now.
      It was strange, though, that you hadn't heard any sort of retaliation from the humans, despite the obvious signs of a break-in. Were they waiting for an ambush? Were they already dead? Did they escape without Slenderman's knowledge? Something wasn't right.
      Just as you were about to creep up the stairs, a flash of bright light, accompanied by a deafening bang! came from the living room. You stumbled back a bit, mostly startled, then gathered yourself upon the realization of what just happened. Someone had set off a flash grenade. There was no doubt one of your teammates were in trouble, so you held your breath and rushed down the short hall and into the living room, passing through the gas. Your eyes stung and watered, but not enough to cause hindrance.
      Across the room, you found Toby, Hoodie, and Masky struggling to stand, disorientation heavily apparent on their forms. You hurried over to help them, careful not to speak. No doubt, the humans were listening for your team by now.
      The closest teammate to your concerned reach was Hoodie, who was hunched over, barely able to keep himself on his feet. Even with the cloth mask over his entire face, the intensity of the flash grenade temporarily blinded him. The explosion of the grenade probably aided in his ill condition, too. You wedged a shoulder under his arm and helped him hold steady.  Your gazing eyes tried to catch his in an effort to confirm his condition. With his free hand, Hoodie rubbed his covered eyes, then vigorously shook his head. He slowly turned to look at you, soon lining with your gaze, and gave a single nod that he had recovered enough to take care of himself. You nodded back, letting go, and moved to check on the others. Masky and Toby were still trying to rub out the blindness, holding themselves up on nearby walls. The smoke from the grenade thickened further toward the small area that led to the garage. The door wasn't even open, so what set off the trap so soon?
      You didn't have time to concern yourself with past mistakes. Above, stirring rumbled on the second floor. The humans were moving now. They probably thought your team was at a disadvantage from the grenade - they were mostly right.
      Next to your group was a closet built into the staircase. You gathered the men and pulled them into the closet, closing the door with barely a sound. At least in here, they would be able to safely recover while you figured out a new plan - the original had fallen apart. In your dark vision, you saw a contraption set up toward the stairs' steps. A pitchfork was horizontally mounted on it, ready to pierce through one of the steps upon activation.
      Footsteps rounded the vicinity of the staircase from above. There seemed to be a small group. The humans were planning to come down, from the sounds of it. You looked to your teammates and nodded your head toward the pitchfork trap with an idea. They all caught on quick and moved to the cleverly rigged contraption. From what Hailey had said, the trap was activated via pressure plate that was loaded into one of the steps. A couple of steps higher, one of the vertical boards opened up to allow the pitchfork through. The hydraulic system attached to it all seemed powerful enough to impale a human with ease. You and your team set up the trap to function without the pressure plate, and instead on your command. If things went right, for once in this mission, then you could at least take one human down before they know what hit them.
      The footsteps from above stopped right at the top of the stairs. There was whispering, but you couldn't quite understand what they were saying. Masky drew his pistol and aimed it to the ceiling, waiting and listening to pinpoint where exactly the humans were standing. Toby stopped his comrade by placing a halting hand on the man's arm. He was right; shooting blindly would only scatter the humans and not guarantee a kill. There were too many to take on, for the time being. Your team would need to pick off the humans without being ambushed.
      Slowly, a set of footsteps began to descend the stairs. They seemed hesitant - which they should - that their flash grenade trap wasn't successful enough for their attack. After a few steps down, another set began to follow. Your team patiently waited for the leading human to reach the bottom of the stairs. Each faint thump of a foot struck a cord with your nerves, causing an itch in your fingers.
      After so many steps, you had become familiar with their characteristic sound, so when the leading human took a longer step down to avoid the pressure plate, your team knew that it was time to kill.
      Hoodie released the hydraulic break, sending the pitchfork plunging through the swinging vertical board and straight into the back of the unfortunate human. You heard him strain out a grunt as his body tried to find a way to move without causing pain, but it was only successful in quite the opposite. The other humans began to panic, thinking that their now injured ally had mistakenly activated the trap. Most of them began moving down the stairs, still trying to hold what little stealth they had left. You held your breath, hoping none of them would detect your team standing right under their feet.
      As the humans queried their ally and tried to get him off of the pitchfork, your team stood still, wondering what to do next. At this point, all four of you were just winging the mission. Things weren't going quite as planned, and there were few safe options for escape.
      "Hang on," said one of the humans. "I'll go deactivate the trap." She cleared the staircase and came around toward the closet. Your team searched each other's masked faces for answers on what to do.
      You drew up a finger to your lips, encouraging the men to stay quiet as you slipped a knife from inside your coat. Moving to the door, you flattened yourself against the wall and waited.
      Almost immediately, the woman pulled the door open and stepped inside, but didn't make it far before you shoved your blade right into her esophagus, preventing her from calling to her friends for help. Masky and Hoodie caught the woman's body so she couldn't flail, kick, or collapse on the floor in a suspicious way.
      It was a shame, though, that you couldn't watch the life fade from the woman's eyes on account of the gas mask covering her face. That must have been what took everyone so long to react to the grenade. They had heard you break the jar at the front door, but suspected that the intruder might still be alive, thus they waited. When they thought the intruder was weakened enough, that's when they made the move. You had to wonder how many Proxies they expected to show up. Perhaps they underestimated?
      While the three of you took care of the woman's moribund body, Toby took her place and retracted the pitchfork. Once everything was secure, your team made sure that the woman was dead, took her mask, then escaped the closet in hushed silence.
      Hoodie signaled that there were two humans at the stairs, not counting the recently impaled one. Your team could take them out, dwindling the threat a little more. All of you agreed. You replaced your personal mask with the gas-filter one, tucking your's away into your jacket. Since you weren't strong enough to move people across a floor, it was your job to take on one of the humans while in the slowly dissipating gas cloud.
      You crept over to the hall, peeking around to see two humans crouched over an injured man. They were trying to stop the bleeding as he laid face-down on the floor. All three had gas masks on.
      First, you lured the two remaining humans to you, into the living room - or tried to, anyway. You tossed a nearby DVD case in their direction, catching their attention. Both paused, calling out a name that you assumed belonged to the woman in the closet. Masky and Toby took their places on either side of the sofa, staying far enough away from the gas cloud until it was time to move. Hoodie remained hidden behind the sofa, waiting to do his part. You shrank back into a dark corner toward the staircase, waiting to make your next move. 
      Two pistols clicked off their safety. One set of footsteps slowly inched closer as their owner cursed under their breath, hoping it was the unknowingly dead ally.
      There was no moonlight to illuminate your team. You were all completely in the advantage. All that was lighting the dark, thick air was the tiny flashlight mounted on each human's body camera.
     With no further indication that someone was nearby, one of the two remaining humans warily stepped around the wall, then froze when they spotted Toby and Masky's waiting forms.
      "No, no, no! No!" The human panicked, unable to fire their gun, as Masky and Toby charged him. This human seemed thin and frail, so he was easy to push around, which is exactly what the two did. Slipping their arms under each of the terrified human's, they continued their momentum across the hall and into the dining room, where they slammed him over the table.
      You and Hoodie didn't waste time to get moving. Hoodie darted to the computer room, knowing that with the keypad-locked door and placement of the room, the powerful disruptor was hidden inside. You, on the other hand, dashed down the hall to the remaining human, who, still crouched over their downed ally, had one hand on the wounded's back and another hand holding a pistol. Their wide eyes whipped back and forth, trying to keep up with all the anxieties building around them.
      Giving little time for the human to react, you curved in from behind him, hoping to avoid the pistol's business end. Your target turned at the sound of your coat fluttering with your movements. He aimed to shoot, but you caught under his arm and held it firmly locked away from your body. The gun rang out. With a hard swipe of your foot, you managed to knock the gun from your captive's grip, but no sooner than he dropped it did the back of his head collide with your temple. Stars with no radiating light twinkled in your vision for several seconds. The human had hit you hard; enough to buy him time to get loose of your hold.
      Right as you gathered your thoughts, you saw the man struggle to acquire his fallen ally's gun. At once, you pulled from your coat a knife for each hand, and then pounced on the human's back, digging your blades into his shoulders. His rugged and tired voice cried out, but you didn't stop. You ripped the knives out and returned again with a barrage of stabs until your prey gave in and collapsed atop his ally. Once you were satisfied that they couldn't retaliate, you slit each man's throat.
      Toby and Masky stole your attention when they looted the sawed-off shotguns from their stands. Each of the three guns had a single bullet loaded in their chambers. Hoodie caught up by cutting through the dining room so not to be in the thinning gas cloud for too long. It was then that the four of you exchanged customized hand gestures to communicate the situation. You joined in closer, taking off the gas mask and returning your own to its rightful place.
      Hoodie was unable to get into the computer room. The keypad would set off an alarm and there was no nearby hint of what the code might be. All of you agreed to leave it for the time being. Maybe one of the remaining humans knew the key code. If not, it'll be one of the last things to break into.
      All four humans that had descended the stairs were taken care of. As far as everyone knew, that meant that six were left somewhere upstairs. They knew of your presence now - no denying it. They knew their friends had been killed, too. They were like six terrified, trapped mice.
      After further hand-driven discussion, your team agreed to split up at the top of the stairs. Each would then cover the nearest room, if possible. Hopefully, the humans hadn't holed up in a single room, leaving an unfortunate Proxy to survive until back-up arrived.
      The four of you quietly ascended the steps, careful of the pitchfork trap, though it was already disabled. Toby stepped lightly on each step, keeping in mind what happened last time he was so careless about them. You and Masky took the left; Toby and Hoodie took the right. Masky began with the guest room, which was locked. You moved past him and down the hall. Shortly to your left was a small closet, which you checked for anyone hiding within. There was no one.
      You continued further down the hall until you reached an option of going straight or left again. According to the blueprints of the house, there were three bedrooms on this side of the house. Each bedroom was connected by a single bathroom in the center. Hailey had noted that the bedroom straight ahead of you remained locked at all times; the humans were maybe reducing vulnerabilities. Not that you couldn't take the door handle off, but if there were easier options, then you wanted to save time.
      Glancing down each hallway, you ensured that the paths were clear. Two doors down, a light was glowing from the open bedroom. Hoodie or Toby must have gotten in, but why turn on the light? Surely that wasn't on purpose. You took the left route, anyway. Almost immediately to your right was then a door that had yet to be open. You pressed your ear against it, careful not to make a sound, and listened for anyone on the other side. If one of your teammates were lurking around, you didn't hear them - a good thing, in its own way. You checked your surroundings once more, then tested the doorknob. It was unlocked, surprisingly.
      With knitted brows and narrowed eyes, you warily pushed the door open to peek inside. The room's light immediately came on, nearly blinding you. Your blood ran cold, thinking that someone had noticed you trying to enter, so you ducked back against the wall.
      Nothing happened.
      You dared to peek into the bedroom, expecting to stare down the barrel of a gun. Instead, you found a bedroom void of people. It looked used - clothes and blankets thrown askew - as though people had recently occupied it. Was this room for one of your recent victims? Or did everyone move to a single room after all?
      To your diagonal left, the folding door to the bathroom gave way to Toby's hunched form. He quickly spotted you and gave an assuring nod that everything was clear. You motioned to the third room, wondering if he had checked it, too. He jerked his head in its direction, signalling for you to follow him, which you did.
      Passing through the bathroom, the two of you took the folding door to the right and entered the bedroom in question. The light was already on. Everything was quiet. You arched a brow, wondering what the humans had planned. Something wasn't right.
      As if to confirm your worries, an alarm pierced the air. You and Toby exchanged glances before taking off to return to the hallway. A gunshot cracked through air, cancelling out the alarm for a tiny moment. The two of you split up around the staircase and its second-floor closet, making sure to leave no blind spots. Upon reaching the stairs, you heard glass shatter just before finding the guest room open, lights on, and the source of the alarm wailing from inside. Toby quickly joined you near the door, then aimed his shotgun at the scene that was playing out across the room.
      Masky was in the grip of some large, frothing man. You teammate's head had been shoved through one of the windows, though his hands clenching over the adversary's arm gave you some relief that he was still alive. The man was dressed in army slacks, equipped to the teeth with guns, knives, and, dare your eyes deceive you, home-made grenades. He was yelling profanities and threats, spit flying from his mouth with nearly every syllable. You could barely understand him with the alarm blaring right above the door. Not far into the room, Hoodie was helplessly standing to the side, ready and waiting for an opportunity to attack the man in any way possible. Your yellow-clad ally gripped the pistol from the holster on his lower back, shotgun tossed aside on the floor. He knew if he made the wrong move at the wrong time, Masky could be killed. This man was not to be taken lightly.
      Desperate for a solution, your eyes scanned the room while your brain skimmed over all information the blueprints had covered. There were three windows: north, west, and south walls of the room. Each of them were locked from the inside; the north and west windows were also nailed shut. The north and west sides of the room overlooked the roof of the garage. If you could get out of the house and find a way to climb atop of the garage, then maybe you could get a clear shot.
      Nothing else seemed plausible. Right now, everyone was at a stalemate.
      You shrank down the stairs, hugging the wall that kept you out of the army man's sight. Toby looked back at you, but you quickly held a finger to you lips. He needed to pretend that no one was missing. If the enemy suspected someone missing, then you wouldn't get the possible advantage from outside.
      Toby reluctantly nodded. You hadn't quite gained the full trust of your teammates, but you'd be damned if you didn't do something. There was little they could do about your autonomous decision, anyway.