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My ATS Story

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posted on Feb, 3 2004 @ 06:08 AM
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Chapter 11: Serendipity

Deus walked up the stairs to the command center from the infirmary after his time resting. He had showered that morning, gotten fresh clothes from his supplies, slept well and been rebandaged for his appointment. He still hurt like hell, though. Strips of light cloth circled his torso where hunks of his flesh had been gouged out to remove shotgun pellets. He wore a brown dress shirt open, uncomfortable with the slightest pressure on his chest but feeling the need to be presentable. Blue pants, aviator glasses, his sword and pistol were really the only things he was wearing outside of the shirt. However, a gift dangled from his mouth. Most of his squadmates had visited him during his internment. Springer had been one of them, lucky enough to be uninjured. The older man had brought him a gift- a large Cuban cigar from his private stock. “Smoke it if you got it, kid. You’re luck to be alive, so I figure you deserve it.”

DE has never smoked in his life. The cigar remained unlit.

None the less, the gift hung from his mouth as he struggled up the stairs into the room. The monitors crackled and buzzed with frame after frame of places around the compound, but the computers were largely silent. A skeleton crew manned the surveillance stations, and TheDemonHunter and Lysergic stood in the center of the room, conversing quietly. They turned to him, grave.

“Deus, firstly how do ya feel?” asked Lysergic.
“Like #, sir.”
“Good, good. Now, down to brass tacks. You did good out there, but not good enough. People got hurt an’ people died. So, pending a little evaluation, we might be giving you more men,” Lysergic drawled on, shifting from foot to foot uneasily. TDH just stood, back to DeusEx and head down as he leant on a computer desk.

“Is there anythang we can do to make your squad’s jobs easier?”
Deus thought for a moment.
“More men. I want Ranger’s squad. They’re good solid fighters and Ranger is a good leader. Lots of initiative. That, and I want a medic. Parrhesia.”
“First one, maybe. Second, definitely not. She’s the closest thing to a doctor we got, so she stays safe.”
“Yeah, okay. That it, sir?”
“Yep. Dismissed.”
TDH hadn’t said a word the entire time. DE starred at him a little while, was going to say something, but didn’t. Trying to shrug but finding it too painful, Deus walked out the door and headed for his post. Lysergic caught up with him halfway up the stairs to the outside.
“Dude, you know the person killed in Springer’s squad? It was Lindsey, DemonHunter’s niece. He’s kind of torn up about it, and he doesn’t know who to blame, but it’s going to either be him or you.”
Deus nodded and continued up. Sorry about it, he exited the vault door, and found everything almost as he’d left it before the battle. The glass on the floor had been swept up, and boards thrown over the holes in the windows and door. It was darker, more eerie. Here and there, the blood hadn’t come out of the carpet. It was a chilling reminder of what had happened. He walked back up to his room, and took a seat on a chair. Looking out one of the few windowpanes not broken, he saw people below, scurrying about, playing. Springer and another fortysomething tossed a football around, while others exercised or sat in the grass. It was peaceful in a way, save that men- his men, mostly- still wore their sidearms. Some were bandaged like him, but it seemed mostly minor.

Saucerat cleared his throat as he leant against the doorframe, favouring his wounded leg. Deus turned around and smiled, beckoning his friend to come in.
“How’s the leg?”
“Stings like a bitch, but it’s getting better. How’s the chest?”
“If I move, it hurts because my skin moves. Can’t stretch so my back feels kind of weird. What’s the news?”
“Not much. Looked after everyone while you were in the shop. Things are going okay- everyone’s happy to be playing outside. “
“Looking down there makes me realize how lucky I am to be alive. Not all that long ago, I felt as if it didn’t matter, I didn’t care because I’d just be a corporate pawn or miserable. Lief here simplifies things. You do your job for everyone’s sake, you eat, you play, you have friends. No more running around.”
“Yeah. It’s nice. A real stroke of luck everyone made it this far.”
“Serendipity, my friend. It’s more than luck. Everything keeps turning up our way. But it’s going to run out, and it’s going to run out soon.”






Well, this is the chunk of writing I've promised everyone. I've been busy, but the plotline is not set in stone. More comments! more readers! The more support I get, the more I write. Long live ATS!

DE



[Edited on 4-2-2004 by DeusEx]




posted on Feb, 3 2004 @ 07:26 AM
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Pretty damn intense, DE. Keep up the good work.



posted on Feb, 3 2004 @ 05:31 PM
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Good writing once again DE. Good work!

I'll be posting my own stuff later tonight, thats right everyone, I've talked to DE and I've started writing my own chapters centered on my own character, Ranger, for this story



posted on Feb, 3 2004 @ 05:36 PM
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aaahhhh...i'm just gonna save my compliments...DE you already know what I think of your writings and Ranger I look forward to reading your spin on things.



[Edited on 2-3-2004 by worldwatcher]



posted on Feb, 3 2004 @ 05:50 PM
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That's right, Ranger has my blessings to write his own stories.

Just try not to show me up, okay?


DE



posted on Feb, 3 2004 @ 06:41 PM
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I've just posted my first two chapters!!!

here they are!:

Ranger's story



posted on Feb, 3 2004 @ 09:22 PM
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Good work, DE. Look forward to what's to come.



posted on Feb, 4 2004 @ 04:49 AM
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Chapter 12: Fires in the Night

DeusEx supposed it had been a tradition among soldiers- hell, males in general- for countless centuries. He had slept most of the day, and now he sat around a bonfire with his two squads. The stars were all out, the sky dark. Many other ATSers lay out, watching the stars or sitting around campfires of their own. However, DE’s units sat a good distance from everyone else. The fire cracked and popped, but barely anyone said a word. They all lounged around, staring at the fire.

Springer smoked a cigar, while Saucerat strummed idly at his guitar. Gothique sat next to him, fairly close. Deus sat at what could be called the head of the circle with three feet of space to either side of him, the commander’s personal space and burden. One of his men passed around a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, making its way around the circle slowly. Everyone mourned the loss of Lindsey, and they quietly each shouldered the burdens they were given- defending the compound, killing, dying. Some wondered who Lindsey’s replacement would be, others wondered when and if the fighting would stop. The rest wondered about families, friends, children and parents. They were all as good as dead.

Finally, Saucerat’s guitar found a tune. It was a sad one, but a quick one. Springer’s back stiffened a little as he heard it, but he soon relaxed. The bottle made its way around the circle again, already more than half gone. Then, Saucerat began to sing:

“ I close my eyes...”

The whiskey disappeared a little quicker, bringing gentle release from sorrow.

“Only for a moment, and the moment’s gone...”

They mourned the death of a comrade. Soon, each might meet a similar fate. Springer threw the weight of his voice behind the song.

“All my dreams... pass before my eyes, a curiosity.”

It was acceptance. It was bonding. The suffering was shared by everyone.

“Duuuuuuuust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wiiind...”

DeusEx looked around the circle as other voices lifted. Eyes blaze with the fury of the sun, the strength of steel, and the sadness of a hundred thousand others who had lost their previous lives in this man-made apocalypse.

“Same ooold soooong...just a drop of water in an endless sea...”

They were adrift. There was no one to help them, no one to turn to but each other. ATS had gone from being a jovial place for banter and discussion to a lifeline desperately clung to.

“Allllll we dooo...crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see...”

DeusEx and his men bonded that night. They ranged from age from fourteen to forty-five, from former students to former electricians. There, around that fire, they we all the same, all equals.

“Duuuuuuuuuust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wiiind...”

Everyone stopped singing as Saucerat played on. They thought back to the jokes they had shared online, to the fights they had fought with each other, and to the fact that the man or woman next to them could and probably would save their lives in the dark days to come.

“Dooooooooonnn’t...hang...on! Nothing lasts forever for but the earth and sky...”

The United States, Europe- every arbitrary line on a map had been erased by the horrors man had unleashed upon man in their name.

“It slips aaaaway... and all your money won’t another minute buy...”

What had wealth done for anyone? Had it protected them from the scourge of disease, nuclear war? No, DE thought to himself, it hadn’t.

“Duuuuuuussstt in the wiinnnddd.... all we are is duuuustt in the wiiiinnndd...”

DeusEx jammed the end of his cigar into the flames, took a puff before that too was passed around.


DE

[Edited on 4-2-2004 by DeusEx]



posted on Feb, 4 2004 @ 01:15 PM
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Following DE and Ranger's leads, I've added my own piece to this puzzle, with DE's full permission, of course.

Demon Hunter's Side Story From The Bunker

Thanks again, DE.



posted on Feb, 7 2004 @ 05:23 AM
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Chapter 13: Upon This Rock...

DE healed slowly, going out on patrol through the woods as often as possible. No one had figured out who their attackers had been, and no one went looking. Things were calm but tense. However, TheDemonHunter had still approved the additional squads topside, moving more of the command section up there. Lysergic was now in command, with eight squads of five under him. Deus led two, and Springer had been promoted to Lead Sergeant for the other pair. Four more squads of five remained on-call, to be led by John Bull. All squads were directed by Lysergic from the house proper. Ranger, Saucerat, Gothique and RANT were the individual squad sergeants for ‘active’ squads. Radios had been handed out to them.

DE walked through the woods with Gothique’s squad. Sauce’s squad was circling around the perimeter from the other direction, heading towards the gate like them. DE found it invigorating to be in the great outdoors, even more so with Gothique. Her personality lit up rooms in his mind - she was charmed, beautiful, funny dark...everything he wanted. He talked quietly with her as they walked. He carried his shotgun in a sling and his sword, leaving his pistol behind. The holster hurt too much for obvious reasons.

He smiled and laughed gently at her jokes, and she blushed and laughed at his compliments. They got along great. Sometimes, when he wished that she wasn’t SR’s girl. He banished the thoughts fairly quickly, though. As they walked, they heard footsteps crunching on the gravel of the road. Deus smiled a little to himself and backed away from Gothique a little, advancing about three paces. Suddenly, his radio squawked to life.

“Deus, Lysergic ‘ere. We got militia comin’ down the road waving white flags. They’re armed, and the ball’s in your court.”

“#!”

Deus clumsily swung the shotgun off his shoulder, trying to aim as everyone else scrambled for cover. No shots came, however. The people on the road simply stopped.

“Hey, in the bushes! We come in peace.”

Eight men soon on the road, weapons still over their shoulders. Deus’s men advanced slowly out of the bushes, expecting trickery.

“My name is Lieutenant Evan Jones, and I’m here from the Adirondac Militia Group, 5th company. We heard about this base after a bunch of shot-up locals headed our way. Said you #ed them up. We’d like to speak to your leader.”

“Dude, they came and shot at us first.”

“Yeah, they said that too. Desperate people. That’s not what we’re here about.”

Deus and his squad disarmed the militiamen, ‘escorting’ them back to the compound. Most seemed ragged but tough folks, who looked tired bu otherwise healthy. By the time they arrive at the house, TDH was already there, waiting alongside Lysergic and the guns of Springer’s two squads of men. The respective leaders shook hands, and the militiamen were escorted inside.

Two hours later, they emerged. DE and his soldiers were lounging around, half expecting an attack and half expecting to fall asleep. The militiamen, grim-faced, walked off into the night.

“Guys, girls, come here. Look at this,” TheDemonHunter called out. The blurry-eyed ATSers walked in from the porch, and sat down around the living room.

‘Turn on the TV.”

“But we haven’t been getting anything but static for weeks!”

“Just do it.”

Deus shrugged and turned on the TV. Several commercials blared across the screen before a face appeared. A clean cut young man with glasses and a dark suit sat behind a large, wooden desk.

“Tired? Sick? Envirocorp will help. We’re a part of the New World order, here to promote peace and harmony. Now for the news.”

“After the outbreaks of anthrax, Spanish Flu and dozens of other viruses, Envirocorp along with Federated-Boeing and other members of the new Corporate Council stepped in. We are sorry to report that almost seventy percent of Congress is either dead or in critical condition under our care. The President is dead, and the remainder of the Senate and Congress have backed the efforts of the American Corporate Council to regain order and control the outbreaks...”

Everyone in the room stared at the television in shocked silence. The meaning dawned on them, shocked them into silence until Gothique spoke.

“They...they did it? They released this on the world?”

“ Word is they released nothing. Yes, the CDC was incinerated. However, nothing escaped and the building had been evacuated. Small outbreaks were planned in slums and other areas of ‘little economic interest’ The nukes landed in mostly uninhabited areas and on the facilities of other corporations. It was all a clever sham. They ‘removed’ everyone at the top. Just look at the corporations left standing.”

“Haliburton, Fed-Boeing... these are all Freemason controlled, aren’t they?”

“How do we know, TDH?”

“Why are none of us sick? How come almost everyone made it here? How come the big businesses just happen to have the cure ready?”

People cursed and exchanged glances of horror around the room.

“How do we know for sure?”

“Look at the evidence. Anyways, our new allies as well as Genya have managed to make the same claim. Britain is undergoing a similar crisis.”

“Wait a second, what about the interment camps?”

“That, I’m going to check out myself. I’m leaving Lysergic in charge here for awhile while I check it out alone. If I’m not back in three days, he’s now in charge. Orders are to start building defences. Lysergic has the specs. Everyone, full out on this. Good luck.”





Shocking! What new craziness awaits our heroes? Tune in next time for... oh, I give up. get the Rocky adn Bullwinkle guy.


DE

[Edited on 8-2-2004 by DeusEx]



posted on Feb, 8 2004 @ 11:44 PM
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Ah.. an unexpected twist! Cant wait to see what hapens next!

Oh, by the way, I just posted my 3rd chapter
I got some catching up to do!!!

[Edited on 8-2-2004 by Ranger]



posted on Feb, 9 2004 @ 03:14 PM
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Just posted another one of my own also. I'd been thinking about the invitations to the bunker, and I had to fill everybody in on how it would read.



posted on Feb, 10 2004 @ 12:20 AM
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Good stuff as usual, DE. Look forward to the next chapter.



posted on Feb, 11 2004 @ 04:49 PM
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Chapter 14: Sticks and Stones

Deus watched everyone dig from his room. The small trench was growing deeper with each passing hour, the frenzied activity radiating outwards from Lysergic’s guiding hand. Patrols swept the compound continually, and those not on active duty tried target practice or just plain old exercise to keep sharp. Deus and his squadmates rested, weapons at the ready nearby. He was alone, of course. Sometimes, he needed space, and his companions gave it to him (gladly).

The sun was setting, but work didn’t stop. The trenches expanded. The hummer’s machine gun was ripped off, integrated into the defences. Weapons were checked, repeatedly. DE watched as often as he could, going out on patrol fairly often. Some of the green recruits were nervous and showing it. Springer still didn’t have a replacement for his squad, leaving him shorthanded. With almost everyone tapped and no one in a particular hurry to volunteer, it appeared they were stuck.

Deus barely heard the knock at his door over the music. Any music would do now for him- it helped keep him sane. He yelled over the music for whoever it was to enter, laying on his bed with his eyes closed. Gothique stepped nimbly through the door, shoving aside the pile of clothes behind it.

“Hey. Patrol’s going out in a few, last before nightfall.”

“Okay. Be right out.”

She ducked back, smiling. She always smiled for him, or so he thought. He grabbed his sword and shotgun, and sat down to put on his boots.

She really likes me, he thought to himself. The three of us spend so much time together, it’s only natural. I hope that it works out for them, but hey. I’m just poor, ugly old me. # them, and # you too, Deus. Hell, no one even knows your real name. You’re deciding the fates of people who don’t even know your real name. How the # did you get yourself into this one, Chris? You’re waiting to die in a bunker filled with crazies, half of them aren’t even twenty-five yet. # this #. Let’s get it over with, and maybe we’ll see another day.

DE/Chris grumbled to himself as he walked in the dying light, slapping at the bugs as his troopers slogged on beside him. Sauce limped to his left, with the other ten spread out roughly over twenty feet in either direction. Everyone was tired and bored, not really paying attention to anything. There was barely any light either. The sky was reddish as the sun set behind them, trees casting long shadows.

Branches snapped in the distance. Deus turned towards the sound, and slung the shotgun off his shoulder. Gripping it tightly, he started towards the sound. Everywhere he looked, he saw shadows moving. Taking a few quick breaths to calm himself down, he cocked the weapon. It made him feel in charge of the situation. He advanced, looking around as his puzzled squads followed at a distance. Then, he saw them.

Three men in black suits, bearing no military markings, just chevrons on one arm and a patch emblazoned with some sort of corporate logo. Above that, blood red roman numerals marked each one with a quiet, subtle XII. All three bore milspec gear and light body armor- soldiers of a new corporate regime. It was clear they had come to scout out the base.

DE didn’t bother yelling. He raised his gun, drawing a bead on the leader. Unfortunately, the other guy was quicker on the draw, sending a pair of shots past him. Deus fired, diving for cover. Bullets tore through the air around him and everyone else began shouting and returning fire. He emptied his magazine before getting up and scrambling for a tree a short distance away, trying to encircle his enemy. It appeared that two more had joined them, laying down more fire over the heads of his comrades as they advanced. Muttering and urging himself on as he slid a few shells home, he fired again, drawing more fire from his friends who cried out in pain and frustration as they ducked and huddled, the torrent of automatic fire pinning them down.

Deus’s distraction allowed the other to scramble to better cover and start returning fire sporadically. Saucerat put a well-placed shot through one of the corp soldiers’ faceplate. One soldier singled him out, and started firing directly at him, pinning him down behind a tree. He cursed, swearing and urging the others to help him. Deus was trapped in the moment, watching his men fight. Watching his men die as hot lead flew around them. Fighting the greed of a nation. Fighting control. Suffering for basic freedoms promised to them. The hands around his weapon curled up angrily in balls, tremors running down his arms. His people were dying. He couldn’t take it anymore- his rage overwhelmed him. In retrospect, he would have called the experience “seeing red”.

His hand was on his sword, gripping the long handle of the katana. It sang as he drew it, gleaming silver in the low light. Only a few heard it amongst the roar of gunfire or the screams of the wounded. The ones who did marvelled at it briefly before returning to the pressing matter of survival. Holding it with both hands, he yelled over the din to cover him. Those that heard him relayed the message before turning around to comply.

He ran. He ran hard, blade trailing at waist level to his right as his legs pumped high and hard to clear the junk on the ground. He was fast enough to make it to them before they noticed the lone swordsman. A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have been able to. The closest enemy was a mere thirty feet away, and with a scream Deus swung at him, eviscerating the man. His guts spewed out his middle as DE leapt to his next opponent, barely hearing the man’s death gurgle as launched himself forwards. The next one tried to raise his gun to fire, but a quick slice up from the previous stroke severed the man’s arm midway through him forearm, leaving his trigger finger paralysed on the ground. Lurching backwards, he thrust his blade between two of the man’s ribs, and tore it out sideways through the heart. Blood gushed out onto him, soaking his feral snarl in crimson.

The remaining two turned to run. One was put down in a hail of fire, but the other managed to escape, scrambling in his terror and desperation. His gun was left behind as he grabbed trees and used them to propel himself forwards. DE could have let him go, but the thought of what they were doing, what his men had suffered drove him. He couldn’t see anything but red, the images of the wounded, poor Lindsey on the table in the infirmary...

DE caught him when he fell, scrambling backwards and pleading for his life. Deus’s roars of rage drowned out his cowerings, the sword raised above his head as he decapitated the man in one stroke, then bringing down the blade to stab the man in the chest, again and again. By the time his squadmates caught up to him, Deus was covered in blood. It was splattered on his arms, his legs, his face, his sword. It dripped from his hair and beard, from the tip of the sword as droplets slid down the bohi.

“Collect the weapons, tend to the wounded, and let’s head home,” he said, still panting. Wide eyed, everyone complied silently. Chris tried to wipe the blood off his face with the back of his hand, but the blood there just sullied it more.




Unfortunately, I'm heading home for awhile, so this will eb the last post for about a week and a half. I tried to go out with a bang. Hope you all enjoyed this anime-ish chapter!

DE

[Edited on 24-2-2004 by DeusEx]



posted on Feb, 11 2004 @ 05:30 PM
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love the gory details, captivating as always



posted on Feb, 12 2004 @ 07:16 PM
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Great as always! No more for a week and a half? maybe I can catch up in my side of the story. I'm not even on my way to the bunker yet in mine.



posted on Feb, 13 2004 @ 07:06 AM
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Looks like I'll have time to add some more to my part of the story also. Overall though, this is looking good.



posted on Feb, 13 2004 @ 08:21 AM
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Wow, good work, I can't wait to read the next chapter.
Nice story. Keep it up



posted on Feb, 27 2004 @ 06:37 AM
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Chapter 15: Washed Away

They came from the treeline, all but blurred in the darkness. At their head was a giant, his outline shaped like a cross. People began to point it out, and everyone working in the trenches - from diggers to those bracing the walls of dirty with boards- either began diving for weapons laid down for work, or scurrying away in fear. Grips tightened as the warriors of Springer drew beads on each figure as they approached. Only Lysergic’s word held their fire. When the giant stepped into the glare of the recently installed floodlights, all present drew a collective gasp. DeusEx stood there, a body slung over his shoulders. Others filtered into the light, looking weary and grim. A pair of them carried a second body, while two more helped one of the wounded along. All the while, DE stood there, blood dripping from him and the corpse. Slowly, a hand caked in dried blood raised itself from his left side, shielding his eyes from the light. The others moved passed him, handing off weapons to whoever approached them with tired and angry expressions on their faces. However, they pushed away anyone who approached the wounded with a grunt and a grimace, walking them to the infirmary themselves. Those who could walk, at least.

Deus remained still, panting. His gaze touched everyone he could see without turning, wobbling a little as a comrade walking past slapped him on the back. Everyone else kept their distance as he glowered. The blood on his hands was caked on, and his clothes were still soaked. It dripped from his shirt, his beard, his hair, his hands. Smears of blood led away from the eyes like tribal paint. His breathing grew heavier as Lysergic moved closer.

“You okay, ese?” Lysergic called out as he approached, hands in the open and extended in front of him.

“Stupid question.”

In the background, Deus heard a truck pull up. He didn’t care.

“How about you put down the body, and get yourself cleaned up?”

“This was Morrison. He was one of mine. I couldn’t help him then...so I’ll help him now.”

Tears crawled through the dirt and grime. From eight feet away, Lysergic could smell the coppery stench, the tang of cordite. He tried to move closer.

“He was one of all of ours. Let me help.”

“No. I’m going to bring him down to the infirmary with the rest of my men, see they get treated proper.”

“They’ll get treated right, ah promise.”

“No. Get out of the way.”

DE lurched into motion again, straining at the load. Faltering, he took step after step, following his men. A few people (keeping their distance) followed, watching him drag himself into the building as one of his men held the vault door open for him.

Parrhesia was scurrying about with two other women and a man as Chris’ squad arrived. The other victim of the patrol had been laid out on a table and declared dead on arrival. The wounded were being swiftly patched up, despite most of their wounds being minor. Then DE stepped in, nearly collapsing under the effort. Everyone in the room ground to a halt, except his soldiers. They stood, out of honor, out of respect despite their wounds and weariness. He gently placed the body on the nearest table and slumped against a wall.

She was permitted to help him onto a greasy cot, and help him out of shirt. It didn’t appear perforated, it didn’t appear even touched. The blood mostly wasn’t his, anyways. When she opened his shirt, he found the bandaged beneath soaked too. She peeled them off, and saw his blood begin to flow from his wounds. They had been torn open in the battle. She looked up at him in disbelief.

“Take a #ing shower, and come back for rebandaging,” she said, pointing. He nodded, and started off.

The scalding hot water felt great on his naked skin. He just stood there, steam surrounding him. Looking down, he braces himself on the wall in front of him, watching the red water drip from his hair, watching the lifeblood of another person swirl down the drain. He no longer had qualms about killing again to protect his people. He would no longer question himself over taking life in defence of his brethren.




I'm thinking about editing the entire work if I get a chance. Hope you enjoy, children.

DE



[Edited on 28-2-2004 by DeusEx]



posted on Feb, 27 2004 @ 07:46 AM
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good stuff again deus, thanks for not forgetting us fans





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