Scorned (Rainbow Six Siege Fanfiction)

That's My Story

"Hey, Gunnar," Ritual calls for the man with a soft smile. "Eleven."

"Yes." He says simply, stopping in the doorway as the other men head to their beds. He follows Ritual to the garage, out into the snow and back to the fishing hole. The sky is dusted with stars and snowfall alike, the moon so big and bright it illuminates everything on the horizon. The woman sits down and pats the spot next to her. Gunnar sits once more.

"So you've got one more question for me before you go," She hums, masking the pain in her chest. "What is it?" Gunnar takes off his helmet and mask. His eyes seem to soften as they lock with hers.

"The other day... What happened to you after we met?" He asks her softly, setting his helmet beside him and carefully placing his hand on her thigh. Everything had lead up to this.

"Ah... I thought so." Ritual lets out a soft breath before staring into the fishing hole. She tries to ready herself to tell the story, but knows that she will never be, so she starts. "My first real mission, m-my... My partner..." She inhales sharply to avoid crying. "We were undercover behind enemy lines. He was so sweet, not only did he make me feel safe, but..." Her lip quivers slightly. "He made me feel loved."

"It's okay." He reassures, partially for himself. 

"We were looking for the leader of the White Masks. After a year, we'd found her in an abandoned factory. I was supposed to capture and escort her, but she didn't go down easy." She could picture the room like she was in it, and heard the hissing just as clear.

Fourth floor. 'Stay away from me!' The white-clad woman punches the other monochrome fighter in the gut. Ritual scoffs and bashes her with her pistol, sending her flying into the desk. The Queen wheezes and weakly pushes herself off of it, staggered. 'Don't come any closer!'

'Or what?' Ritual growls softly, briskly walking up and grabbing the woman by her throat. She tries to punch the black-camouflaged soldier, choking as she is lifted from the ground, until a sound makes both of them perfectly still. Ritual takes the Queen under her arm, her wrists clasped tightly in her other hand, and slowly turns around. 

'Or what?' The White Queen repeats mockingly. The Bomber takes a step forward and trains his laser on the two women, trying to get a clear shot on Ritual. 'There's thousands of me all over the world. Someone will always step in to fill my place... Someone with no name, no face, and they'll murder your kind to the last.' She hisses. 'Everything you petty soldiers want dies with me!'

The Bomber heeds her call and begins to empty his magazine into his Queen. Ritual was overwhelmed with dread as she felt the bullets strike her plate through the woman's body. White Masks swirled around her, all yelling and running as she averted her eyes. She thought she was already dead. For the sake of the mission, she wished she was.

She is snapped from her despair by a loud, sudden beeping. Her eyes land on the Bomber as he is nearly torn limb from limb by the surrounding terrorists. Through screams of pain Ritual had never heard the likes of, he reaches out and clasps his detonator. Without thinking, Ritual takes a leap of faith through the window behind her, seeing the ground below for only a moment before she shuts her eyes.

'Ritual!' A voice pierces through her ringing ears. Her head was spinning from the blast. 'Ritual!' It calls again, and again and again. 'Ritual!'

Third floor. The man reaches out to her, his white mask making a halo in her blurred eyes. He rescues her from the height and pulls her into the window, holding her close as he severs the stuck rappelling line from her waist.

'What happened?' He shakes her shoulders. 'Where is the Queen?'

'She's gone.' Ritual shakes her head, forcing her eyes to focus, and sits up. Her surroundings start to make sense again.