The Fog of War

Cliffhanger

As Soap opened his eyes, he saw a few people conversing around his hospital bed. Four people to be exact. One in red, one in black, one i- you get the idea. Taking in his surroundings, he saw his weapons on the table to his right. His stomach no longer had a knife in it, and with that in mind, Soap decided he wanted answers.

Soap threw the covers off him and rolled right, falling off the side of the bed. 1 second elapsed. He grabs his pistol off the bedstand and a full clip. He loads the mag and chambers a round with an audible CLICK CLACK. 2 seconds elapsed. The four begin to turn and Soap stands up and puts the red one in a one-armed full nelson holding his pistol to her head.

The three others draw their weapons and aim them at Soap.

Soap: PUT THE BLOODY WEAPONS DOWN OR RED HERE WILL BE MISSING THE RIGHT SIDE OF HER FACE!

The three visibly flinch and the red one whimpers. They reluctantly lower their weapons.

Soap: fucking hell. Explain to me where the bloody fucking hell I am.

Yellow: You, well... Unhand my sister and maybe I will explain...?

Soap looks between the two.

Soap: The resemblance refuses to make itself present.

Red: D-d-d-different mom!

Soap: Ah.

Soap lets the girl go. 

Yellow: ok, here goes.

[Timeskip]

Soap: what the fuck?

???:  Interesting choice of language on this campus.

Soap turned, along with the girls.

???: I am professor Ozpin. I suppose that you want a few questions answered?

Soap: Well no sh-

Oz: Well, I need you to do something first.

[I am such a scumbag. I just don't feel like writing all of the necessary shit. Heres a timeskip]

Soap: How the hell am I supposed to get down?

Ozpin chuckled. Soap looked down as the floor under him hissed.

Soap: Aw hell nah.

Soap is launched forward into the forest. As he falls, he takes out his ice picks and slams them into a rock behind him, slowing his fall so he can land safely on the ground. As he lands, he takes out his M4A1 and loads it.

Soap: Rules of engagement?

(Radio) Ozpin: All contacts hostile.

Soap: Solid copy, lets go.