Express Elevator To Hell! AvP, P2

[petervaughn]

"We arm ourselves with the wrongs we've done,
Name them off, one by one.
Let's go to war.
Let's go to war!"

- Go To War, Nothing More

---

*We open on a shot of Peter Vaughn sitting in the boarding area on the spaceship Sulaco. Memphis Belle is next to him, apparently protecting a young girl. Both Marines have been disarmed and are being held by several androids, who appear to be named Biff, Lawww, and Siren. Vaughn isn't speaking at the moment, but we can hear his voice anyway.*

Vaughn: The darkness can be terrifying. This world can come at you in many different ways, twisting & shredding your soul into ribbons. It makes you want to throw a dude off a tall skyscraper, or at least a balcony. I tend to think I've broken through that obstruction in my mind now, that I'm thinking more clearly than I have in months. But my outlook on the world hasn't changed. It's still a cruel bitch, and I want to fuck it up.

*More androids are coming by now, having evacuated Space Station Chicago and gotten back to safe ground. They appear to be pushing a few medical carts along, with Jonathan Barrows following next to them, studying them.*

Vaughn: Outcast, you claimed that you're the darkness, that you're what monsters are afraid of. Two problems with that. One, I control the darkness inside of me now. It's mine to command, not anyone else. I will never become it, because it would weaken me, just as it has you. I will, however, use it on anyone who gets in my way. Two, if you knew anything about monsters, you'd know: we're not afraid of anything. Fear is something I cut from myself along with my other emotions, because it had no use to me.

*Vaughn's face is shown, with a look of deep hatred directed towards Barrows and the androids. He appears to have slipped something from the back of his left marine boot. It shines in the light for a moment.*

Vaughn: Maybe I have "gone off the deep end". Maybe I am certifiable. But to my mind, none of that matters anymore. Happiness, grief, despair, they don't have a hold of me like they used to. I don't care what the fans think, I don't care what the wrestlers think, and I definitely couldn't give a shit what you think of me, Outty. In the end, you're fighting an intelligent beast that will tear you limb from limb if given the opportunity... and if someone at ringside has a chainsaw, of course. My hands can only do so much.

*As Barrows gets closer, Vaughn braces himself to make the leap. Memphis notices, inching to the side, ready to help out.*

Vaughn: Maybe we are two of a kind, at least in some ways. Maybe we're both a little fucked up in the head. But that doesn't make us equals. I'm an incoming rocket, and you've got nothing that can stop me from nuking your ass into oblivion. It's time Peter Vaughn takes what he wants: the OCW World Championship. It WILL be around my waist by the end of the night... and you'll likely be making yet another trip to that private hospital room. Maybe the lady will give you that sponge bath you're so desperately craving. But don't expect any other rewards. As soon as I strike... you're going down.

*With a quick motion, Vaughn flies forward, surprising one of the androids. He plunges the knife into Lawww's neck, severing some key lines and causing white blood to splay out everywhere. As Lawww falls, cursing like a sailor (who knew androids had such a diverse language?), Vaughn leaps over him at Barrows...*

---

*... only for Biff and Siren to grab him on either side, hanging on. Barrows stops, shocked for a moment, as Vaughn glares at him.*

Vaughn: You bastard! You were using us the whole time, weren't you?

Barrows: Using you? I... I don't know what you mean...

Vaughn: So you just held your little androids in reserve until my unit almost got wiped out? And then you send them in to retrieve the men who got captured & screwed by those fucking things??

*Vaughn points to the side, where we can see that Aaron Warthog and Thunder are the two individuals on the carts. Both look sick, with Warthog holding a hand over his ample belly.*

Warthog: Ah'm... ah'm gonna have a... baby...

*Warthog groans, alarming Barrows, who backs away.*

Barrows: For God's sake, get him into the cryo-unit before it 'hatches'...

*The two men are taken away, as Vaughn struggles against the two androids holding him.*

Vaughn: You just wanted puppets you could discard after you were done with them, didn't you? Well, you sure as hell aren't manipulating me anymore! I've wised up, Barrows!

Barrows: Yes, I'm sure you're much wiser now. For all the good it will do you. The Company wanted this to happen, Peter. I'm sorry, but I had to follow orders.

Vaughn: Sure, coward. Blame it on the higher-ups. But I know, if you wanted to, you could have prevented this.

Barrows: Then you know nothing. Are we clear to leave, corporal?

*An officer nearby turns and looks over, nodding to Barrows.*

Corporal: We've already disconnected from the station, sir. We're moving a little sluggishly, like the balance is off, but we've put in enough distance to be clear of the blast.

Vaughn: So you're going to nuke Space Station Chicago?

Barrows: It's the only way to be sure.

Vaughn: Can... can I do it? It'd at least feel good to get a little revenge on those slimy bastards.

*Barrows thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs and nods. Biff pulls Vaughn over to the nearby station, where a bright, flashing button is obviously what's needed. Nice how these things are always so simple, right? Vaughn looks down at the button, then at the image of the space station on the screen.*

Vaughn: Fuck you, Chicago.

*Vaughn jams down the button, and we see the station basically implode. There's no sound, of course, but it's still a satisfying view. Vaughn smiles for the first time in the last 24 hours.*

---

If only destroying Outcast could be so easy. Well, if I had access to his dressing room, and brought in some C4... but no. No, I don't want the belt handed to me, even if you are starting to get delusional and seeing things. That hospital really fucked you up, didn't it? Or maybe getting thrown through the Slam Buss windshield was actually one step too many. Either way, I still want to have my chance against you, so that when I squash you with the Plunge, everyone will know the win was for real.

I've heard the talk already out there. "If The Janitor wins the World Title, the whole fed will suffer. He'll lead to the company's closure, because who will want to see him on top?" As if having a former drug addict and a mostly broken-down 'veteran'  near the end of his pathetic career is so much better. Honestly, I look at it as I'm actually saving OCW. If we're going to war with the XWF, who really thinks that Outcast will be there leading the way? The guy would probably be off on one of his murder-suicide missions, ignoring everything else that's going on.

Me, though? I'll gladly get out there to go after those XWF bozos, like I did this past Monday. I'll stand side-by-side with my fellow OCW guys, if it means I get to bash some heads in. And once I'm champion, I'll be leading everyone into battle, destroying all who threaten me. Man, woman, child, whatever the fuck Theo is, they're all going down, and I'll prove to be the greatest champion in the world. And if I go and win the XWF Title after that, my ascent will continue, and all the while, you, Outcast, will be left opening a bottle and thinking about how, for one brief moment, you actually meant something.

---

*Vaughn's been pulled back over next to the other captives, with Barrows rubbing his hands together evilly. Yes, he's actually doing that. I know, it's weird, right? He looks very pleased with himself.*

Barrows: I wasn't so sure about this, but it's really worked out perfectly.

Vaughn: So now that you've won, what are you going to do with Memphis and I... and... hey, what's your name, girl?

Girl: I'm Newt.

Vaughn: Uh-huh. Where'd you come from again?

Memphis: She's mostly the ship's mascot.

Newt: Mostly.

Barrows: The answer is, I'm not going to do anything to you. You're going to get into the cryo-beds and take a nice, long nap.

Vaughn: And never wake up, right?

Barrows: Well, there's one other alternative...

*All of the androids direct their guns towards the trio. Memphis shields Newt, while Vaughn steps forward, a smirk on his face. He's ready to go down fighting... when he suddenly notices a red beam tracing across Siren's face. He's not the only one to notice it.*

Biff: Wait, what's...

*Siren's huge head explodes with lots of creamy gore. His body collapses, as all the androids turn and try to figure out where that shot came from. Another blast comes from the emptiness, blowing off Kurt Kannon's arm.*

Barrows: Fuck!! Fire, fire, fire!!!

*Following orders, Biff joins the rest in blasting away into the nothingness of the ship, doing lots of damage. Sparks fly, but nothing seems to be hit, even as more cannon shots come in, taking out more of them. Barrows, meanwhile, is running away in the opposite direction, with Vaughn, Memphis, & Newt giving chase.*

Vaughn: Get back here, you coward!

Barrows: Fuck you! We've got to escape!! It's a Predator!!!

Vaughn: A what?

*The androids are clearly losing, as they aren't trained to fight an enemy they can't see. Biff steps forward, strangely showing a little anger despite being an android.*

Biff: Fight me, you piece of...

*A spear appears out of nowhere, going through Biff's chest. It shoves him backwards, causing him to drop his weapon. The air shudders in front of him, and suddenly we can see the Predator standing there, staring at him.*

Biff: But... the... chicken...

*Strange final words. Biff slumps over, deactivated, as we go back to where Vaughn & the rest are still trying to catch up with Barrows. He's reached the next air lock, frantically hitting the button. The door swings open...*

Barrows: God... no...

*An alien is standing there. A large alien. The queen. It must have snuck on board during the station raid, wanting revenge on those who attacked them. Its jaws open wide, showing the second jaw underneath. Before Barrows can do more than sob, the teeth come forward, ramming through his head. Quicker than the asshole deserved, but it's done, with the useless body slumping to the side. Vaughn stops, looking around for a weapon. Newt screams, attracting the queen's attention. It moves forward, but Memphis steps in front, holding up a pulse rifle she picked up.*

Memphis: Stay away from her, you bi-

*A blast from behind cuts through Memphis, blowing her chest wide open. Memphis gasps, then falls, dying almost instantly. Vaughn grabs Newt and dives to the side as another shot flies by, barely missing them. The queen, sensing a greater danger, charges forward to meet the predator one on one. The epic battle begins, one that is truly better than anything we've ever seen between these two forces before (except maybe the comics, they're great).*

Newt: What do we do??

Vaughn: I'd say the escape pods, but they're in the other direction...

Newt: So. We're mostly fucked. Mostly.

Vaughn: Well, Newt, if there's one thing I know, it's that if you can't win, at least take the bastards with you. Stay here.. and hang on.

*The alien vs. predator battle is still going on. It's glorious, by the way, showing off every skill they've got. Neither fighter notices Vaughn, who steps over and pulls out a grenade launcher from the nearby storage gate. He turns and aims it... not at either foe, but towards the engine controls. The grenades fly, smashing through the section, erupting in a massive explosion. The engines go down, while an enormous hole appears in the ship, sucking the oxygen out and dragging bits and bodies towards it. Newt is screaming, completely terrified. Both the queen and the predator manage to grab something, hanging on, as Vaughn hangs above them from his grip on a ladder, laughing.*

Vaughn: EXPRESS ELEVATOR TO HELL, MOTHER FUCKERS!!! GOING DOWN!!!

*We cut away from the chaos to outside the ship, where you can no longer hear the screams. We see the Sulaco shuddering from new explosions. It's veering off now, wobbling towards a nearby planet. We see it enter the atmosphere, glowing a furious red as it plunges towards the surface. The pilots are doing anything they can to try and land cleanly. They're mostly successful. Mostly. We cut away just at the sound of the crash landing.*