Siren Head vs The US Military (Delta Force) - Who Would Win? - YouTube

Delta Force. It’s one of the United States’  most mysterious special operations groups,  

working under the direct authority of the  Joint Special Operations Command. To many,  

this elite group of soldiers is known only as  The Unit - the team you send in when nothing  

else will get the job done. Since their inception  in the 1970s, they’ve been involved in some of  

the most vital counter-insurgency operations  of the 20th and 21st centuries. But today,  

some of them were about to embark on a mission  like no other: They were going monster hunting.

And not just any monster. We’re talking  about Siren Head, the forty-foot monstrosity  

created by Canadian Horror Maestro Trevor  Henderson. But these unfortunate soldiers  

didn’t know this quite yet. All they knew was  that something evil was lurking in the woods...

It was a situation so strange that to many it  would feel like pure fiction, but Americans had  

been disappearing in scores within the dense  forestry of the Pacific Northwest. Of course,  

the occasional disappearance is to be expected  - the United States is a huge country,  

and people fall off the face of the  earth all the time, but not like this.  

And what’s more, whatever was causing these  disappearances seemed to be growing bolder.  

Families in small communities near the  forests were going missing from their homes.  

People were being stolen off of the streets  at night. Chaos reigned in the dark.

Typically, disappearances like this would  be the responsibility of local authorities,  

or by the FBI if disappearances could be connected  across state lines. But given the increase  

in missing people, various national security  agencies began to take a keen interest in the  

phenomenon. They began to theorise that some kind  of woodland cult or insurgency group was behind  

the over seventy anomalous disappearances  that’d occurred during the last two months,  

and if a group like this was growing in confidence  enough to start snatching people from their homes,  

they could be preparing for a grander  strike against a high-value target.

Of course, the Pentagon didn’t like the idea of  dispatching high volumes of mIlitary operatives  

into the forests of the Pacific Northwest.  Firstly, such a large mission could alert  

the insurgents, and force them into hiding.  Secondly, knowing that the military was pouring  

soldiers into the forests to address mysterious  disappearances might cause a state of unwanted  

public panic. This is where Delta Force came  in. We’re talking about a special forces group  

with discretion in their DNA. Most of  the group’s most critical missions are  

still a complete mystery to the general  public, and this would be no exception.

Joint Special Operations Command authorised six  

Delta Force operatives to conduct a secret  reconnaissance mission into the Hoh Rainforest,  

located on the Olympic Peninsula in the Pacific  Northwest. It was both the largest forest in  

Washington State, and had the highest  concentration of recent disappearances.  

The six operators were drawn  from Delta Force’s G-Squadron,  

the sabre squadron specialised in clandestine  operations, and few were more clandestine than  

a secret counter-insurgency operation hidden  right in the heart of the United States.

If only these six soldiers had any idea  what horror they were truly in for...

But still, they had a better fighting chance than  most. The chosen six, known internally as “The  

Snakes”, had personally been involved in some  of the United States’ most vital operations in  

the Middle East and Eastern Europe - and their  identities were considered so mission-critical  

that their true names and ranks were classified.  They were known only by the following codenames:  

Viper, Anaconda, Adder, Rattler, and  Copperhead. They were organised under  

the authority veteran field commander Jack  Vasquez, better known to his men as Mamba.

If they couldn’t deal with a situation,  then the situation couldn’t be dealt with.

The Snakes were dispatched from  the Delta Force HQ - Fort Bragg,  

North Carolina - to their first checkpoint  in the Hoh Rainforest. As the team wandered  

into the depths of the forest, bordered on  all sides by ancient spruces and hemlocks,  

they had no idea that they were already being  watched. But the watcher wouldn’t strike just yet.  

It’d wait until it had the cover of night  and darkness to make its first attack.

As we alluded to earlier, the true cause of  all the mysterious disappearances wasn’t some  

crackpot insurgency group stationed deep in the  forest, it was Siren Head - a mysterious living  

nightmare that seems to enjoy one thing and one  thing only: Making people vanish without a trace.  

It stood among the trees, inhumanly  still, as the Snakes walked right past it.  

It dulled the quiet crackle of its speakers,  teeth chattering silently in anticipation.  

More easy prey. Yes, it would take all of them.  Every single one. And it would relish in the task.

Though his prey may not have been as easy as the  monster anticipated. They were outfitted with  

state of the art ballistic armour and night  vision goggles. Most were armed with HK416  

assault rifles, designed specifically for Delta  Force by Heckler and Koch - with the Colt 1911  

as a sidearm. A few members of the team, like  Anaconda, were a little more traditionalist,  

favouring the pump-action M870 Shotgun with the  classic M3a1 Grease Gun as a secondary weapon.  

Mamba even packed a few frag grenades on  his person, as a kind of good luck token.

Typically, Siren Head’s most well-armed prey  were hapless hunters shouldering bolt-action  

rifles or double-barrel shotguns. The  Snakes were in a different league.

As the day began to creep into night, the  six elite soldiers broke off into groups  

of three - henceforth known as Beta Team,  comprised of Viper, Adder, and Rattler,  

and Alpha Team, comprised of  Mamba, Anaconda, and Copperhead.  

They formed two discrete base camps and  established comms over a secure radio link.  

They’d perform secret reconnaissance missions  in shifts, gathering potential intel on whatever  

could be causing all the disappearances  to report back to their superiors.

Alpha Team were on first patrol, locked  and loaded, with their night vision  

goggles engaged. They were charged with  exploring six pre-determined quadrants  

before the end of their shift, and they would  make short work of it. Mamba took point,  

with Anaconda and Copperhead covering his six.  Things were relatively uneventful, until Anaconda  

whispered that he saw something moving in the  trees. Something big. Mamba asked whether what  

he saw could have been an Olympic Black Bear  or a Roosevelt Elk, both native to the area.

Anaconda said no. It was much too tall and  thin for that. What he saw was human-shaped,  

but wrong. It looked somehow...stretched,  and he didn’t get a visual on the head.

That was strange, to say the least. Mamba  realised immediately that they were dealing  

with a different situation to what they’d  first assumed, and Beta Team had to be updated.  

Mamba pulled out his radio and called  in, but he didn’t get a response.  

There was a strange buzzing, crackling sound,  almost like the device was malfunctioning.  

Until suddenly, a voice Mamba and  the two others didn’t recognise  

came shouting out of the speakers. It  just repeated one word, over and over.

“HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE...”

Mamba shut off his radio. He and the  team assumed it must be some kind of  

signal-intercepting technology from  the insurgents. They’d been rumbled,  

and their lifeline to the outside had been cut  off. Mamba changed the directive: They needed  

to rendezvous with Beta Team as soon as possible  and reassess the situation before moving forward.

That was when they started  hearing gunfire and screaming.

It echoed through the rainforest with  harrowing clarity. Bullets, pained yells,  

screams of pure terror - and it was coming  from the direction of Beta Team’s Camp.  

Mamba, Anaconda, and Copperhead charged in to  provide backup to their embattled teammates,  

but by the time they arrived, there was  nothing left. The camp was decimated.  

The little supplies they’d brought in were  destroyed. The trees around the encampment  

had been shredded by gunfire. And most bizarre  of all was the fact that there were no bodies.

There wasn’t even blood. Just Viper,  Adder, and Rattler’s discarded guns.

Mamba was shaken by the sight, but he didn’t let  it show. Their survival depended on maintaining  

composure. He ordered his two subordinates  to take the spare magazines of their vanished  

former teammates and proceed with him out of the  forest. When they attempted to reestablish comms,  

all they got was a disembodied voice  screaming the word “DIE” again and again.

They were on their own. Their new  mission: Escape the forest alive.

The Snakes already had the fastest possible  escape route planned out as a contingency,  

just in case everything went sideways.  Though none of them expected it to go  

sideways quite like this. The  team formed a tight formation,  

their weapons pointing in all directions,  knowing an attack could come from any angle.

They just didn’t anticipate it coming from above.

A huge hand descended from the darkness of the  canopy - gnarled and rotted, with fingers as long  

as a child’s arm. The three men were shocked and  horrified, only just dodging its grasping strike.  

Mamba raised the barrel of his HK416 and  fired off a staccato burst of gunfire,  

seeming to frighten the creature away.  All that Alpha Team could do was press  

on - they didn’t have time to consider the  nightmarish particulars of their situation.  

Whatever was attacking them wasn’t  human, but that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was survival.

Anaconda was using his pump-action to blast  suppressing fire into the darkness around him  

when he was taken. The hand seemed to come from  nowhere, grasping him by the leg and plucking  

him from the ground. The elite soldier managed  to reach for his Grease Gun and rattle off some  

gunfire in the arm’s direction, but ultimately, it  was futile. Mamba and Copperhead watched in horror  

as the third member of their trio was pulled,  screaming, into the dark. Needless to say, he was  

never seen again. Just like all the others who’d  gone missing in or near these cursed forests.

As Mamba and Copperhead ran for their very  lives, the forest came alive with a cacophony  

of horrific noises all around them. They  heard the crackling hiss of radio static,  

the harsh screams and whispers of heavily  modulated voices, and discordant fragments of old  

songs. The enemy was all around them. Was it one  or many? It felt like it was everywhere - and even  

for these battle-hardened soldiers, it was nothing  less than confusing and utterly terrifying.

Copperhead was starting to crack. He was  spraying gunfire all around him, hoping he  

might hit something, or at least frighten this  mysterious assailant away. He didn’t want to be  

snatched in the darkness like all the others. He’d  take anything over that. Even though Mamba ordered  

him to keep his cool as they ran, Copperhead kept  blasting until he was dry-firing. At that point,  

he whipped out his handy 1911 and  just carried on burning through ammo.

Not that it’d save him.

Suddenly two legs, long as tree trunks,  planted themselves in the ground between  

Mamba and Copperhead. The latter looked up and  screamed at the monster standing before him:  

Forty feet of rotting flesh, topped by a rusty  metal siren that screamed enraged nonsense.  

Mamba levelled his rifle at the creature,  but was batted aside like a rag doll.  

The creature would deal with Mamba  later. For now, it wanted Copperhead.

The soldier fell backwards in terror as those  gnarled hands darted down towards him. His  

screaming, flailing body was snatched, and pulled  into the darkness. Only Mamba was left now - alone  

with a monster that had taken five others like  him. And his ammo was starting to run low.

Mamba regained his footing, his body still  stinging from Siren Head’s first strike. The beast  

had once again retreated into the dark, biding its  time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.  

He levelled his rifle and aimed into the inky  blackness in front of him. A sudden movement  

out in the dark caused him to pull the trigger,  firing off the last of his ammo for nothing.

It was in that moment that he felt the  looming presence of Siren Head standing behind  

him. He’d been outplayed. Game, set, and  match. Now, the creature would have its fun,  

just like it’d had with all the others.  As it encroached, Mamba fell and began  

crawling away, the hissing sirens full  of chattering teeth growing ever closer.  

The desperate soldier reached into his jacket  and pulled something out, something that the  

creature couldn’t quite make out. But it didn’t  matter. The prey was right there, for the taking.

The creature reached out with a long,  probing finger towards Mamba’s chest,  

as though to deliver a taunting jab. That’s  when Mamba tore open his jacket and revealed  

his final trump card: Ten frag grenades, with the  pins pulled out of all of them. Just for luck.

In his last seconds, Mamba smiled, as the  creature seemed to twitch in final hesitation.  

The following boom echoed out through the forest,  shaking the birds out of the trees. A brief flash  

in the dark, that soon faded, until only darkness  and silence remained. Mission accomplished.

Check out “Siren Head - EXPLAINED”  and “Cartoon Cat - EXPLAINED”  

for more nightmares from the  twisted mind of Trevor Henderson!