Millennium had a problem, a very big problem. Over the past few days, the entire South America HQ had been reduced to a screaming, anguished, sleep-depraved society of angry vampires and a very irritated officer. Even its mad scientist population was getting fed-up with having just under one hour of sleep in the middle of the afternoon between screams and hooting and other such things of that nature. The only one not fazed at all by Millennium's problem was its werewolf population, which consisted of one Hauptsturmfürer, Hans Gunsche.

Millennium's problem was not a leaky pipe, broken air conditioner, empty fridge, nor was it anything actually wrong with the base. No, the problem was with one of the organization's members, its cat-boy spy, Schrodinger. Said cat-boy had been screaming and yelling and irate over a certain Silent Hill game for the past few days, and it was coming upon the day to make the ordeal's length an entire week. Nobody was happy, not even Schrodinger. He had locked himself in the HQ's basement and barricaded the door with a few of the Major's war machines left over from WWII. And since he could teleport out of any situation, he could stay there perpetually and eat outside, or do whatever else he needed without ever having "left" his sanctuary to the Play Station and TV he had set up down there.

As of late, he had been getting attacked by a phantasm that everyone in the entire HQ knew about by now: Pyramid Head. And every time the phantasm appeared to kill him, Schrodinger would scream and yell and cry like a girl until the thing left him alone. And such terrified screaming and crying it was, that everyone else had been left unable to sleep until the cat-boy did, which wasn't ever for long. And so, they had been formulating a plan, where every member of the organization (excluding Schrodinger) had been gathered for.

Hans stepped through the doorway of the planning room to be introduced to an entirely new staff of Millennium. Here stood a thousand slouched, hunch-shouldered, and irritated Nazi vampires and seven officers of rank. The officers, however, were sitting in chairs, and one in a throne, his head drooping to his pudgy form and glasses hanging below his eyes. Alhambra's cards were dangerously close to spilling out of his sleeves, all hundred or so of them. Rip and Zorin leaned on their weapons and the Valentine brothers leaned against each other as they tried to stay awake. Dok and the Major idly discussed something, though their words were hardly coherent.

Hans stepped through the corridor made by the vampires that had tiredly shuffled away from him out of respect or fear. The werewolf walked up to the disheveled-uniformed officers and looked down at the Major, whose bloodshot eyes glared tiredly. He scowled at Hans briefly before letting out a pained yawn.

'Vhy are you zo perky?' he snarled weakly. Hans furrowed his brow and the Major waved his hand to dismiss the comment. Dok spoke up.

'Kapitan…ve haff spent ze entire veek trying to find a vay into zat room…and ve finally did it. But…' he said hoarsely, pointing to Hans directly with a gloved and trembling finger. 'But ve need you for it…' he said, panting lightly. He almost slipped out of his chair before catching himself and saying woozily. Rip van Winkle cleared her throat and wiped a messy clump of hair out of her face before elaborating on the mad scientist's new plan to shut up the cat-boy.

'Ve need you t-' she started. But a fit of screaming and crying interrupted her and she had to wait for more than five minutes until it was quiet enough to hear oneself think. Hans idly waited while she gathered up the mental and physical strength to speak. 'to vear a costume to scare ze life from zat little bastard…und kill his playstation…' she finished tiredly. Jan, slouching not far away, pulled a sheet of paper out of his jacket and handed it to Hans, who was very confused by its contents.

On the sheet of paper was a man who had striking resemblance to Hans, save for the fact that there was a pyramidal structure planted on his head. The man was kneeling in front of a background of corpses and had one gloved hand on the hilt of a gigantic black, blood splattered knife. The other hand was suppressing a rather large bulge in his pants. Hans would have felt insulted if they had said it was him…it was almost embarrassing. Hans would have believed Jan if the vampire had told him this was a picture drawn of him. The caption for the picture ran: Pyramid Head, it's not really rape if you let him do it. And you know you would. Hans looked confusedly at Rip, then at the Doktor.

'Zat ist Pyramid Head…ze first picture on Google. Ve…ve made an costume for you…and, I'll show you…' slurred Doc as he shuffled his way out of the room with Hans and Rip in tow. They made their way down to his lab and he pointed at a large pyramidal thing in the corner and a giant knife resting against it.

'Get rid of ze clothz…un put on ze helmet,' said Rip. Hans narrowed his eyes and motioned toward the vague direction of the planning room. Rip interoperated his body language correctly. 'Zey don't look like ze fucker. You do,' she replied. Hans grit his teeth, but did as he was told and removed his clothing down to his combat pants. He even had to remove his boots and socks, which left him with a chill running up his spine from the ice-cold floor. He donned the bulky headgear and grabbed the gigantic knife as the other two occupants of the room prepared a large, rather clumsily-built machine sitting off against one wall. Hans walked over to it and Rip put a hand on his shoulder.

'Drag ze knife…like ze real one does…' she huffed. Hans did so and the noise sent chills up his spine. Steel grated against steel and sparks flew. Dok held a panel with one arm and a lever with the other. With a mad grin, he pulled the lever down and the machine shrieked in agony. The lights overhead flickered and dimmed considerably. Hans watched as the wall the machine was up against shimmered and rippled slightly. Dok motioned for Hans to go through the machine's ring-like mouth. Hans was rather hesitant about walking into a wall, but Dok had told him to. It should be okay…at least from what Hans had experienced before with Dok insane inventions.

Hans put the hilt of the huge knife against the wall to make sure it was safe to walk into, or if he was going to be made a fool of. Surprisingly though, the hilt went through the steel wall and the material rippled like water. Hans shrugged and walked through the wall. Immediately, he was greeted with a room that was almost entirely blackened with darkness. The only light came from a television that had the silhouette of a cat-boy in front of it. Hans' eyes narrowed. This was the source of all the base's troubles. Hans stepped forward, bare feet against the nigh-frozen floor.

Hit huge weapon followed him through the portal and gated against the stone basement floor. Schrodinger's entire body went ramrod straight and his cat ears shot straight up. He dropped his controller and slowly turned his head. Hans stopped and stood still for a few moments to let Schrodinger's mind formulate an explanation. But the cat-boy's eyes went as wide as dinner plates.

'P-P-P-P-P-PYRAMID HEAD!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' screamed the childish Nazi cat-boy. Hans started forward again. His huge knife grated against the floor. Schrodinger backed against the TV and screamed and cried in terror, ten fold what he had been before. Hans stalked slowly toward the terrified boy, smelling a faint trace of urine in the air. Hans stalked even closer, now only a dozen steps away. The werewolf had no idea what to do, so he found that destroying the TV and play station.

Schrodinger scooted away and shrieked in horror as Hans still drew closer. The cat-boy was now out of the way of the TV and Hans had a clear shot at the thing. He swung the gigantic knife and bisected the TV and play station in a single fell swoop. The lights flared and then went out, and the two were left in total darkness. Schrodinger's crying intensified and Hans resumed walking towards him. (His night vision is that good)

'Don't kill me! I didn't do anysing wrong!' he cried. Hans dragged the huge knife along the floor and sparks again flew. Schrodinger, so terrified that he was wailing in terror, had curled up into a ball and shivered. Hans made his way over to the cat-boy and took off the huge helm, pulling out a lighter from the pocket of his combat pants. He lit it up and revealed the wretched form of his comrade. Schrodinger shied away and mewled in a horrified tone. Hans tossed the huge knife across and room and it slammed into the opposite wall. Schrodinger opened one eye and saw Hans' face. He immediately cried out in joy and leapt at Hans.

'You killed ze monster! Danke! DANKE DANKE DANKE DANKE DANKE!!!' Schrodinger latched onto Hans like a leech and the werewolf stood up, blowing out the lighter to leave them complete darkness. Schrodinger trembled again and Hans' face broke into a grin. There were odd shuffling noises and Hans furrowed his brow. He relit the lighter and found himself in an odd predicament. All around them were strange, misshapen creatures with white-pale skin and a multitude of other deformities to be seen. Hans let out a sigh.

'Kill zem! Kapitan! EEK!' screamed Schrodinger. Hans face-palmed and threw Schrodinger off of his body. These were the Major's first attempts at Nazi-vampires, and they had failed. Hans walked through the shuffling crowd of deformed half-retarded creatures and moved the Panzer tank out of the doorway. He opened the door and dim lighting filled his view. He looked back at Schrodinger as the creatures shuffled out of the light, holding their hands up to ward away the redeeming feature of the base.

Schrodinger held his hand out and pleaded for Hans to go back and save him. The werewolf cracked a grin and slammed the door as he left. If Schrodinger wasn't smart enough to leave via teleportation, then he deserved to be killed by the damned things. The last thing Hans heard from that room was Schrodinger's ear-piercing scream.

And then all fell silent…for a very long time.

A/N: Well, short little one-shot I came up with a few weeks ago. I never really got around to writing it until just a few days ago. I hope you liked it.