Rifles and Rapiers: An expansion of America Stranded

Ryan flicked a cigar into the open grave, the rain having filled a small pool inside of it. His cigar, which was Cuban, fizzled out as it landed in the water.

“I don’t know why I’m here, but I’m sure Melissa was a nice girl.” Ryan shoved his hands into the pockets of his long, black trench coat. He withdrew his right, and put on a pair of thin, black sunglasses. “But that’s in the past. Now, it’s time to believe.”

Suddenly, he flew into the sky. He navigated to the ISS, which had been repurposed into a mass imprisonment center for dangerous criminals. He landed in the airlock and it closed behind him. He pressed the button to open it. However, all it said was, “No entry,” so he flashed his 05 level access keycard at the reader, and it said, “ur good.”

He walked through the airlock, and was greeted by a large crowd of prisoners. The front one, who was also the largest, held a gun to the head of a hostage. Not just any hostage, though. The daughter of the President of the United States.

“Help me, Leon!” The girl cried.

“That’s not my name,” Ryan said. “You. Big guy. Let her go.”

The big guy chuckled. “Small man funny. You see, you may be smart, but I have never seen man smart enough to outsmart bullet.” He pointed the pistol at Ryan, and spoke again with his thick Russian accent. “Why shouldn’t I shoot you here? Small man?”

“Because, like I said, Leon isn’t my name.” Ryan put on a second pair of sunglasses, for some reason.

“Oh really? What is it then?”

“You should already know. I’ll enlighten you though,” Ryan said. He lowered himself into a fighting stance.

“They call me… The One.”

At that moment, all of the prisoners opened fire on him. But, it was as if they were in slow motion. He slowly moved, as if in molasses, leaping, ducking, and dodging each and every one of the bullets as they came at him.

When all of the prisoners had expended their bullets, they looked at him in confusion.

“He… he… he outsmart bullet.” The heavy Russian man said. He dropped his hostage on the floor, and turned around and ran.

“Oh no, I’m not done with you.” Ryan dashed forward, and gave chase. He chased them through endless halls, which eventually transitioned from steel walls and LED lights to yellow wallpaper and moldy carpet. He was in the Backrooms.

“Going somewhere, eh’?” A voice suddenly called out to Ryan. He stopped and let the Russian man get away. Facing him was a muscled, black haired man in a high-tech suit. In front of him he wielded a long, red katana.

“Hello, Sam.” Ryan casually greeted the man. “Long time no see.”

“Hello again, Ryan.” Sam replied. He swung the sword over his head and aimed the tip at Ryan’s face. “Remember when you left me for dead in Caracas? After the Federation collapsed the dam?”

“Yes, I do. It was necessary to ensure the survival of the team, Sam.”

“How about that time you killed my dog?”

“Uh-”

“Or that time you fucked my wife? Eh?”

“I fail to see how-”

“Enough with your excuses!” Sam assumed a fighting stance. “Let’s dance!”

Sam dashed at Ryan, who then shot Sam in the head. Sam died. Ryan then lit up a cigar and started smoking.

“Sorry buddy. For you, it must look like thirty strings of bad luck. But the truth is, the game was rigged from the start. Fallout New Vegas.” With that, Ryan flicked the cigar into Sam’s grave. He was now back at the graveyard. He had never left. The rain poured down.

Just then, a black limousine arrived. An old man in a lab coat walked out, with a yellow-shirted boy in tow.

“Rick Sanchez, you son of a bitch. I’m in.” Ryan clapped Rick’s hand in an embrace.

“Great. Morty, give him the thing.” Rick motioned at his grandson, Morty, who he frequently goes on silly adventures with. Morty, shaking with fear, pulled out a highly decorated admiral’s uniform from the trunk of the car.

“Ready for one last adventure, old friend?” Rick asked.

“Always,” Ryan replied. “I’ll always love you.”

“So where are we going babe?” Melissa asked. Ryan turned.

“One last job.” Ryan then dropped his umbrella and began to walk to the limo in slow motion. Everyone else followed, also in slow motion.

“Together, we are FNAF. Let’s roll out.” Ryan said. Rick jumped in the driver seat, and everyone else got into the passenger section.

And they drove into the sunset.