Bolterpyre 2
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The platoon had been running in circles for minutes after they opened fire at the Duwendes and Engkantos attempting to extort gold from the Marines of the Anomalous Warfare Battalion, hampering their progress to their objective after the latter vexed them. The Reclusive Folkloric Natives were addicted to the synthetic "sugar" that a low-risk Type-Green smuggled from the streets of Tagpi, Manila, a Dunwich-class Nexus Point, to the Freeport of Rajahnate of Mahari-Likha. The intrusion of the Dangerous Extranormal Individual into the Freeport became a matter of concern for the Joint Task Force maintaining security in the area. It resulted with the increased visible presence of the SCP Foundation Mobile Task Forces and UN Global Occult Coalition Strike Teams which caused positive effects of its own such as discouraging entry by Persons-of-Interest and hostile Lawless Anomalous Groups, but it also made the citizens of Mahari-Likha uncomfortable that even the Gods and Goddesses of Mount Madya-as brought the matter to the Defense Council last week.

They preferred instead the guardianship of the Philippine Marine Corps’ AWBn Companies, which was understandable as most of Mahari-Likha’s citizens predated the Philippine history and lived long enough to become distrustful of foreigners in their lands.

Corporal Ranilo “Albatross” Gomez PN(M) looked up at the trees above him while the platoon was on security halt and aligned in a cigar formation; an elongated circular arrangement where the elements aimed outwards, maintaining a three-sixty degrees sector of fire. They were wary of any dangers that might be lurking in the shadowed corners that even the glow of the heavens could not penetrate.

The sky above the realm of Mahari-Likha was affected by an astronomical phenomenon where night and day co-exists together, amalgamated in the middle like a surrealistic illustration which serves as a backdrop to the Freeport. It casted a faint glow below as the rays emitted by the sun deity, Apolaki, seeped through the gaps between the leaves of the treetops, providing enough illumination to their paths, keeping it safe to tread without the need of infrared flashlights or NVGs. However, experience taught him not to trust the environment due to the fact that the inhabitants of the forest were deceptive in nature and can affect the environment, including the sky, limitedly. They can also trick the mind to make them hear or see something.

This explains why the Reclusive Folkloric Natives were imperceptible to electronic gadgetry due to their ability to mask their own presence and avoid detection. Foundation-made Elan-Vital-Energy detection goggles and Coalition-issued Veritas Imaging, proved to be useless against certain types of RFNs inside Mahari-Likha.

They were, however, susceptible to the glow of Albatross’ “agimat”, which swung like a pendulum around his neck. Its illumination indicated an RFN’s presence; and as he waited for trouble, the agimat suddenly glowed bright.

The sound came from above. Albatross looked up and saw a scantily-clad man with a hunched spine, unkempt hair, yellow eyes and a grin that was far wider than it would have allowed. It held on its left hand a wooden cane mounted with a skull of an unfortunate avian on the top. The Brujo laughed maniacally as it conjured its enslaved Diwata, a feminine aquatic nymph, to existence; it was crying for help while attempting to communicate its distress through gesticulation. The Brujo howled from the branch of a tree with its broken voice and raised its cane before tapping its hilt at the tree’s trunk like a madman.

“Contact front!” The platoon commander, 2nd Lieutenant Gilbert “Pitchfork” Mari PN(M), issued the order. “Contact front!”

Everyone within the cigar formation facing the Dangerous Extranormal Individual raised their aim at the Brujo, trigger finger inserted within the guard and ready to fire the 5.56mm Para-Energy Seeker rounds, fresh from the warehouses of Supply Section, loaded within their M16R4s. The Brujo waved its cane, and out of nowhere, the fabric of reality at the base of the tree ripped open and numerous furred humanoids skipped towards the Marines like some injured simian, accompanied by another group of faceless humanoids enveloped in black flames.

“Another harassment!” Sgt. “Goblin” yelled as he aimed his M60 LMG, fed with belt linked 7.62mm Anomalous Material Piercer rounds. “No, we’re not supporting your goddamn addiction, you junkie! Die like the rest!”

The platoon lined up in skirmisher left and dispensed heavy fire at the direction of the Abnormal Belligerent Entities and the Brujo. Limbs, bones, skins and hides shatter and tear under concentrated firepower. It was a massacre, but the ABEs continuously approach until they close in on the unit.

The Marines scattered the moment the first of the ABEs, a hairy and furred one, reached and snatched a Marine up in the air and slammed him to the ground with full force. Albatross learned to call the furred entities as “Hairball”. He rolled out of the way and quickly switched ammunition from PES to AMP. After loading a round with a pull of the charging handle, he takes aim at a speeding Hairball and loosed a stream of bullets at its chest, spraying blood from its ruined breastbone.

He whirled as he heard a scorching sound behind him. He faced the source of the noise and found himself face to face with a humanoid consumed by flames the color of midnight. If it was smiling, Albatross could not tell but he sensed that it was while staring at him in eerie silence. It launched its hand towards the Marine. Albatross sidestepped, careful not to make physical contact lest he caught up in an inextinguishable fire. He pulled out his Colt .45 and aimed at the back of the creature’s head in pointblank range. Four taps to the base of its skull was all it needed to see it crumple to the ground.

He holstered the sidearm loaded with 9mm AMPs and raised the R4 slung across his chest. He cat-walked towards another Marine pinned down by a Hairball. He fired at its direction; two rounds went straight to its body while the other two grazed its neck and face. The Hairball beat its chest before charging at him. Albatross kept his aim and fired more rounds.

He detected movement from his right and spun fluidly at its direction where faced another “Burning Man”, in a hostile posture. He fired at the ABE multiple times until it fell to the ground. Albatross moved closer to the downed Marine and helped him to his feet.

“Are you alright, sir?” Albatross asked the 2nd Lieutenant.

“Never been better, sarge.” Pitchfork replied as he brushed the dust off his PBDU. “The Brujo’s going to pay big time.” He pointed at the direction of the mad sorcerer.

The ABEs are losing after the Marines, finally recovered from the shock of the attack, initiated the appropriate immediate action drill and quickly mopped them up with organized squad tactics. They soon focused at the Brujo, whom they pursued with alternate squad by squad bounding technique; one squad was rushing the position of the Brujo while the other one was providing suppression fire in a prone position before the roles reverses until they reach their objective.

The maneuver subjected the Brujo in a hail of gunfire. It frantically waved its cane to conjure more ABEs, to no avail. A stray 7.62mm round managed to hit its emaciated wrist, amputating it from the rest of its arm. It let out a cry as it screamed a string of incomprehensible words. The aquatic Diwata floating beside it heard the command. She let out a protesting cry as her hands began to move, her lips began to incantate magic without control. She will kill the Marines if she did not stop.

And she failed to stop.

A tall geyser of water bursts forth from the ground where the Marines were standing on. Albatross looked to the left and saw with his own eyes how the newly reported PFC from the 5th Marine Battalion Landing Team get ripped apart in half by a torrent from the groin up to his scalp, despite the fact that he was fully covered in 10 kilograms of kevlar. Albatross woke himself up from the trance and followed the advancing platoon, who were sprinting for safety.

The water bursting from below was following him. Albatross eyed the Brujo, who was laughing maniacally, finding it amusing watching a Marine running for his life. He halted for a moment and aimed at the sorcerer. He put the rifle on full auto and sprayed while whispering a prayer. Without blinking, he watched the Brujo fall down from the branch and hit the ground with a wet splatter. The Diwata, finally freed from the Brujo’s control, ceased the attack and rushed towards the nearest injured Marine to heal him. Albatross blankly stared, rifle still aimed, at the events unfolding before him which somehow looked like everything in slow motion from his perspective. It was either the combat adrenaline or the fear of dying; whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now.

He walked towards his platoon, the 7th Platoon of Kappa Company, AWBn. Their current mission was to link up with the elements of Gamma Company to mount a raid operation on an Aswang camp where a Tikbalang is currently held captive due to its knowledge of an artifact’s location. The 7th Platoon recovered from the skirmish; however, the casualties are too great to be ignored. The radioman of the platoon’s first squad requested for MEDEVAC, as most of the KIAs are theirs, and waited for the air asset dispatched by the Operational Command to airlift the casualties.

It came in the form of a Black Hawk flanked by a squadron of Manananggals, who allied themselves with Bathala, the God of the Mahari-Likhans. It would have been a beautiful sight, had their intestines remained tucked and not dangling like a wrecking ball in the air, scattering blood and bits of flesh everywhere they go.

“Alright, platoon.” Pitchfork spoke. “There’s nothing to do here. Let’s move to the fifth leg.”

They walked again. They followed the beaten trail on the ground that leads to their destination. It was a long walk, and Albatross found himself thinking about his stint back in Tagpi, Manila.

There was something in that never-ending city that made him wonder about it again and again. He wasn’t sure if it was the city’s self-generating urban landscape, or the ever changing look on its inhabitants’ faces, or the complete individuality of personalities of the people living inside of it despite the fact that they seemed to have come out in random and never duplicated anyone with the same appearance and traits, as if the city itself has a memory and knows who and what to create.

The fact that one could be easily lost in that city without a chance to be recovered made him ask what would happen if he never escape that maze of a squalor. It was a paradise for non-anomalous and anomalous street criminals from the neighboring cities of Manila who were expanding their illegal activities while the unpredictability of the environment made it a hell for law enforcers carrying out their basic functions.

There was a storm brewing in the horizon; the people of Tagpi began to deviate from their daily routines as they learned from outsiders numerous criminal activities, introducing disorder in the community. The situation in Mahari-Likha resulted with the Kappa Company being backloaded from the Nexus Point and transferred to the Rajahnate of Mahari-Likha. They were relieved by a regiment from the PNP’s SAF-Counter Paranormal Operations Group, but only time will tell how long would the SAF-CPOG hold up once the bullets starts flying in Tagpi and the AWBn being recalled back to the city for some “cleansing”.

“Pass the word, halt.” The whisper came to him like a visiting ghost. He glanced back and relayed the same message, word by word.

They began to align in a cigar formation while the leaders assembled in the middle of the platoon. Albatross could not hear whatever it was they were discussing; meanwhile somewhere in the distance, lights flashed from between trees.

“Someone’s challenging us.” One of the juniors muttered to himself, which Albatross and the others simply ignored.

As a response, Pitchfork retrieved his own flashlight in his dump pouch hanging in his belt and flashed a countersign. Soon enough, a handful of men in pixelated battle dress uniforms with plated chest rigs and helmets came out of the woods and began to advance cautiously with rifles in tactical carry. The forward elements of the platoon raised their rifles a little higher as they simply do not trust their own eyes inside Mahari-Likha, especially in a forest like this.

“Brother, you got some champorados for me?” The pointman asked with emphasis on the cognitohazardous word as another form of challenge. The other party also had their weapons aimed too in caution; a standoff between them could result in a fratricide at the slightest mistake. An intense second passed and the likelihood of the unfortunate incident happening increases as the other party remained silent. The pointman started to think they were doppelgangers and had no idea about the countersign when the other party finally responded.

“Yeah, but it has gone cold.” One of the Marines in the other group replied.

Both sides lowered their guns.

“Where’s your platoon commander?” Pitchfork asked out loud as he approached the Gamma Company Marines.

“He’s conducting a leader’s recon and sent us to meet you out here.” The Marine from the Gamma Company said. By his attitude, he seemed to be the fireteam leader.

“Wardo,” Pitchfork ordered.

“Magnum, sir.” The Marine replied as he pointed at the patch velcroed at the side of his helmet, revealing the codename.

“Magnum,” Pitchfork called. “The Grid Coordinates of this location was near the target area. Have you not engaged the opposing forces yet?”

“Negative, sir.” Magnum replied. “We’re waiting for you.”

“Good, sarge. Take me to your unit.”

“Sir, aye, sir.” Magnum replied.

And they walked again but only for a short distance. Below the creek to their right and masked by numerous plants that were both native and foreign to the land was a small valley where a handful of buildings were erected. From their vantage point, it was easy to see the numerous skinny and clawed humanoids with colorless eyes patrolling the camp grounds. The platoon commanders, squad leaders and fireteam leaders were seen in the distance, gesticulating at the scenery below. By the looks of it, none of them had reached an agreement as to what angle of approach is best to enact in the coming raid.

Albatross simply ignored them as they reached the temporary patrol base of the Gamma Company. It only consisted of two platoons, its squads rotated in shifts for different duties every hour. Currently, there were two squads posted around the main body as watch posts while another pair of squads were positioned as security in its inner perimeter. The third pair was currently on kitchen and galley duty and the fourth pair was scheduled for rest and messing.

Albatross sat down instinctively as soon as he saw a tree stump, setting his rifle across his lap. He plunged once more in a deep thought about the events that had transpired in his time in Tagpi. It was his first time to visit the Nexus Point as part of a security detail for a Civil Military Operation sponsored by Manna Charitable Foundation. The faces of the crowd were blank and shifts almost in a slow motion like some ruined painting. Sometimes, the facial expressions mix and form into something more horrifying than what the mind intended to perceive. They were humans by scientific standards as confirmed by the SCP Foundation researchers, but there was something different and strange about them which added to the mystique of the city itself.

His train of thoughts was derailed when a mess gear filled with rice and fish was shoved at his direction. He grabbed the chow and began consuming it quickly before the leaders of the Gamma Company Platoons return. He does not want to waste the opportunity to chow down as the chance might slip away as soon as the word to move was issued.

“We finally came up with a plan.” A voice came from the rear of the patrol base.

Albatross turned to see the Gamma Company platoon leaders, along with Pitchfork and his APL, 2nd Lt Maria “Mike Mike” Medrano PN(M). They moved to the middle of thetemporqry patrol base and used the mound of mud as a pedestal. The Company Commander cleared his voice to catch everyone's attention before relaying their plans to the elements…


The enemy territory consisted of five structures with the main building located in the middle, the headquarters of the Puting Kidlat Aswang clan. The L-shaped building at the northwest of the main building was where the Tikbalang held. Three smaller structures located at the west and southwestern side of the main building act as some sort of food storage warehouses where bundles of meat in trolleys were transported to and fro.

The security elements of the platoons were already dispatched around the enemy camp’s outer perimeter, ready to intercept any enemy reinforcements and to kill any escapees from within. The assault elements were divided into several “task teams” for maximum efficacy. The support team, as usual, will provide mortar fire or call for fire from Vulture Drones and Philippine Air Force QSSEA in the air in case things go south.

Albatross was assigned as an assault element in the main body of the raiding party. He was currently ducked behind a fallen log along with other Marines of the assaulting team, observing the special task teams infiltrate the camp. Each one of the task teams were divided into three five-man fireteams and were to hit the “food storage warehouses”. From the lenses of his monochromic night vision goggles, he watched as the special task elements eliminate unsuspecting Aswangs; from muffled firearms fired to silent weapons were employed. Albatross watched as a Marine dragged an Aswang behind a bush and stabbed it several times with a K-Bar. Another one pulled an Aswang in the shadows and repeatedly bashed its head with his own helmet, now slicked in red, and another one dropped a stone on the head of a sleeping Aswang.

The elements soon disappeared from observable angles. There was a lull in the violence for a long moment; as if a cue for a grand event, the sound of a deployed flare was heard somewhere nearby and the three bamboo structures known as the food storage warehouses suddenly exploded after the attached mortarers in the support elements attacked it, awaking the entire camp.

The signal to attack was given in the form of a flare stick being waved at their direction. The assault team mobilized and attacked the camp in full force. Albatross found himself sprinting while carrying a pack weighing much heavier than him. It was packed with provision and bullets, as well as extra protective kits that he thought were utterly useless. It was easy to bounce up and maneuver because the enemies were not equipped with any conventional weaponry. There were no bullets to dodge because the RFNs don’t know how to fire a gun, but the fact that they are rushing close to the enemy was also a disaster waiting to happen because an Aswang, imbued by their inhuman strength, were masters of savage close quarters combat. Thankfully, their commanders weren’t stupid as he initially thought. He listened as Pitchfork issued an order.

“Drop! Third squad, bounce up!”

Maneuver warfare at its finest. Albatross dropped to the ground and began firing to support the attacking squad. The third squad, while advancing, was firing as well. He locked his aim onto a confused Aswang. By the looks of it, he was young but Albatross opened fire anyway, bursting its chest out with AMP rounds. He takes aim at another one, a screeching Aswang with extended claws. He fired at the RFN with a three round burst and watched it dropped to the ground with parts of its body missing.

“Second squad, bounce up! Third squad, drop!”

He got to his feet, not letting the weight of his pack drag him down. While walking, he sighted a sprinting Aswang. He centered the sight post of his M16R4 at its middlemost body mass and fired at its direction while controlling the recoil of the rifle with a relaxed grip. It let out a cry as three bullets penetrated its body in a steady interval. As the Aswang fell down, its body crashed onto the door of the main building, accidentally opening it.

“I got high!” Albatross yelled as he gestured at the junior Private nearby to follow him.

“I got low!” The Private replied as he nervously glanced at Albatross for guidance.

“Move!” Albatross yelled as he positioned behind the left-hand side of the doorframe. The Private stood at the doorway itself, exposing himself to harm. Albatross dragged him by the collar of his pixelated battle dress uniform, out of harm’s way.

Both Marines peered through the doorway and sighted a pair of Aswangs approaching. They fired upon the entities after obtaining them in their sights. Both RFNs fell to the ground. The rest of the second squad caught up with them. They filed vertically in a stack and began to traverse the straight hallway. The main building consisted of four large rooms. The second squad divided themselves into two fireteams with one fireteam advancing at the left slightly ahead and the other at the right, lagging a few inches behind, in order to prevent the latter from exposure to line of fire in case there was an enemy within an adjacent room the former will clear.

The first fireteam halted before the door of the first room with the second fireteam halted behind them. Albatross was the pointman of the first fireteam; he scanned the door as he crossed to its other side, accompanied by the same Private who had assisted him in their entry of the building. Quietly, he reached for the knob and said, “buttonhook”.

“Buttonhook,” replied PFC “Nuggets”, PN(M).

“Move,” Albatross ordered as he opened the door. Nuggets was the first to enter the room; a gunfire was heard. The next intruder was another junior Private, who fired a shot upon entry. Albatross was next; he quickly moved inside and sighted the third Aswang about to slice and dice the Private after it tackled the poor Marine to the ground. Albatross fired cautiously and sent the Aswang on its back. The last Aswang was killed by the Private that had been accompanying Albatross.

“Wardo,” Albatross ordered.

“Private “Wildcat”, sir.” The Private replied. There was a new Standing Operating Procedure that prohibited the Marines from speaking their real names in the area of operation, due to the fact that not only it constitutes information security breach, there also were entities capable of using their anomalous properties on the said names and cause harm.

“Wildcat,” Albatross said, “the night’s gonna be a long one.” He added. “Coming out!”

The second fireteam waited for the first fireteam to leave the threshold of the room. The rear element marked the doorframe of the room with a tactical chalk, drawing an esoteric sign of containment before moving on to the next door. The second fireteam mirrored the actions of the first fireteam with the second room; gunfire and screams were heard before the fireteam emerged blood covered and with a member missing. They proceeded to clear the rest of the building…


The QuickStrike Single Entry Aircrafts of the Philippine Air Force’s 13th Paranormal Operations Wing (13th POW) provided a strafing fire at the Aswangs defending the building where the Tikbalang was kept. Flying alongside them were Vulture Drones, which looked like a harmless Philippine Eagle but within its memetic camouflage was a thing of metal, wires and servos typical of a normal drone. It has an arsenal of its own and an ammunition storage compartment. The automatons and the aircraft skittered the soil with .60 caliber AMP rounds, sending Aswang body parts everywhere. The building was soon infiltrated by the elements assigned to it and the rescue was flawlessly executed.

The Tikbalang was malnourished, its left leg was broken that it walked with a limp. Its right eye was swollen shut and by the looks of it, had suffered maltreatment at the hands of its captors.

The MEDEVAC invoked from a radio call arrived and airlifted both the surviving elements of the Kappa and Gamma Company Platoons and the VIP itself. As soon as they were in the Mahari-Likhan sky, the Tikbalang appeared to be relieved and in joy that it cried in front of the Marines. The emotion had brought strong winds and light rain as Tikbalangs were known to affect weather patterns with their emotions, but the effect was not disastrous. The weather continued until they arrived at the Forward Operating Base where, upon arrival, Corpsmen from the Ano-Medicine section of the Anomalous Warfare Battalion arrived with stretchers and lifted the Tikbalang to safety.

“I am thankful,” the RFN said, “you took me away from cruelty. I will pray for you before the court of Bathala and all the gods and goddesses of Madya-as. Farewell, may we meet again.” The Tikbalang’s trailing voice said.

“Well, aren’t you proud?” Pitchfork said as he approached Albatross from behind. “You looked like you’re about to go AWOL.”

Before Albatross could reply, an uninvited guest interrupted their conversation.

“Corporal Gomez?” The voice of a woman asked.

Both Marines turned at the direction of the voice. A woman in a corporate attire stood in front of them, flanked by two more men in suit and tie. A trail of aides and an army of Foundation security operatives and GOC agents stood nearby.

A dignitary, he thought. What the hell is it now?

“May we have a word with you for a moment?” She added as she offered her hand to him. Albatross wasn’t sure if she wanted him to hold her hand or if she wanted a handshake.

Whatever she wants, he just nodded and ignored the waiting hand.


“You are chosen to be a part of a special task force to be sent in an anomalous location in Japan.” The woman, who introduced herself as “Charon” moments earlier, said as she gestured at the power point presentation that does not make any sense to Albatross. “You will be working alongside Foundation and GOC units, as usual, and detachments of JAGPATO-controlled paranormal combat military units from the Japanese Self Defense Force.”

The slide changes.

“Your mission was to maintain peace and order, and at the same time, eliminate the Osore-Gumi Yakuza and their rival, a Chaos Insurgency cell calling themselves the “Saint Nightmare’s Pact”, which was dedicated in wiping out the said Yakuza group.”

“Where will we be deployed?” Albatross asked. “And why me, specifically?”

“You will be deployed in the city of Yomi, which was accessible after crossing an arch that leads to hell three times, located in Aomori Prefecture. We chose you because of your experience in…Tagpi.”

Albatross frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been in a city where cognitohazard and memetic suggestions are everywhere, and yet you survived. Most of the affected never came out whole again. For all we know, you contracted something and what you have is probably contagious that we might just have to quarantine you.”

“What?”

“Follow the orders. It would be better if you are overseas than isolated here in one of the ATCD’s cells while you wait for an antidote to your condition.”

Albatross stood up.

“Are you serious?”

“I am.” Charon said as she looked at him in the eye. “You will be attached to an OVOPCOM company. You will be in an occupational force conducting law enforcement duties. Your mission is to prevent a large-scale conflict from taking place between the CI Cell and the Oni Yakuza clan.” She paused. “Be prepared.”

Albatross watched the woman and her security detail go. The closing of the door echoed across the cold meeting room. The Marine could not help but to look at his palm and quietly pray to the Christian God of how tired he was. Suddenly, faces appeared on his palms; malformed faces in mid-transition, laughing and screaming at him without sound.