It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.

Please white-list or disable in your ad-blocking tool.

Thank you.


Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.


Demon Hunter's Side Story From The Bunker

page: 1
<<   2  3  4 >>

log in


posted on Feb, 4 2004 @ 01:14 PM
As we've all become thoroughly engrossed in DE's ATS story, I've gotten permission to add my own writings to his story. I'll add here whenever it becomes relevant, or to give some backstory to the character DE based on me. Hopefully posting here in my own thread is okay.

Thanks again for letting me add to what you've started, DE.

This will fit in immediately after Chapter 11 of DE's "My ATS Story."


The roar of the crowd. The glasses clinkin' together. Lights flashin' all around. Sirens and bells going off everywhere. Beautiful women tryin' to get closer to any man at the table they could.

But all I could hear was the dice rollin' across the table and the result bein' called out by the man runnin' the table.

"Seven! You are the luckiest man in Atlantic City tonight, sir!"

The crowd got larger and wilder. The dice flew from my hand again.


I'd never seen so much money in my life. Since it wasn't mine, I didn't care how much I lost. Not really a loss if you still walk away with a few grand more than you showed up with, right? The dice flew again.


I could't count that high anymore. All but five grand on the line again. The dice felt perfect in my hand. I was on fire.

"Nine! The point is nine!"

Four grand in the field and countless more chips on the line. The dice flew again.

"Boxcars! Shooter rolls a twelve!"

My luck was holdin' up and I tripled my field bet with that one. Still had all those chips on the line at risk though.


I'd lost track of how many hours I'd been at this, but they kept payin' me. After a good luck kiss from Heather, I looked away and let the dice fly, tryin' to make point and get back to the odds I was comfortable with. Luck has its limits, right?

"Nine! Shooter hits the point and the line wins."

I hit point and doubled the money I had on the line and in the field. This was insane. I let the rest ride the line after giving Heather two grand to hold safe.

"Seven! Lucky seven again!"

Hours and hours of wins. It just never ended. I never thought I'd see somebody who had broken the bank at a casino in A.C., much less see that guy when I was starin' in the mirror the next day. Hard to believe I took 'em for so much in so little time from so little cash at the beginning. I felt like the luckiest man in history.

A few months later, I bought the bunker and started modifying the interior to suit my own strange view of my place in the world. My own private X-Mansion, of sorts.

It all seemed good for a while. Had a few parties. Family and friends came over to celebrate my new-found fortune. Even got my fellow Horsemen together again at the house to help plan out security and defenses for a worst-case scenario. It was like old times as we scouted out the area and drank up a storm.

Then all hell broke loose and I sent out the invite. The Bunker went live, from fantasy to reality in a heartbeat. I had to find out if Uncle Sam's hard work forty-five years ago was really worth the money I'd paid for it since then.

But my fellow Horsemen and their families never showed up. Red and her husband never made it from Oklahoma or North Dakota -- wherever the hell they were this time of year. My parents and my sisters never showed up. And Heather never made it in from Seattle. I knew I might never see any of 'em again. I gave up after a couple weeks without any word from any of 'em. The rest of the world had gotten too crazy.

But there were others showin' up, and as the head psycho in charge of this place, I had to hold it together until we got organized and I could grieve in private. I was lucky Lysergic and JB made it there when they did. I needed to be able to delegate some of the responsibility after the invitees all started showin'.

I said a silent prayer for my Horsemen to whatever gods would listen as I handed out info on the defense strategies we'd laid out together. Hopefully they went to Valhalla after a warrior's death, like we'd always talked about.

I smoked a cigar and drank a bottle of our special mix -- Famine's Putrified Punch -- alone out in the woods once people started to settle in. I burned a drawing of the four of us that I'd inked years before in a little firepit, kind of a token viking funeral for my fallen comrades.

"Back to business," I thought.

Then Lindsey got here, and I didn't know what to say. I didn't expect to see her, but there she was, tellin' people she was my niece. Probably the easiest story for most of 'em to swallow. She knew I didn't like publicizin' about the kids I'd helped. Had to admire her spirit and quick thinkin' if nothin' else though.

After she told me what happened to her folks, I knew I couldn't turn the kid away. I guess we were all that we both had left. The last remnants of our lives from before the insanity the world had plunged into. It was the darkness that led me to plan for this little home away from home for half the free world's paranoids and paramilitary I'd met online. And now that darkness threatened to swallow all of us, including this hyperactive fifteen year old.

I wasn't goin' to teach Lindsey about weapons at first, but she seemed to be a natural. Probably picked that clean from somebody else's head, now that I look back. Hell, from the way she knew my moves when we sparred, might have been me. I was too fried from grief, exhaustion, and sleep deprivation to give it enough thought. Nobody questioned it, at least not to my face, when I let her join up with Springer's unit.

She wanted to make me proud, she told me.

But now she was gone. The last tie to life before the bunker had been broken. My old life was gone and all that was left was the agony of this nightmarish existence we'd all have to face together.

Part of me wants to lay the blame on the people who were topside with her, for not makin' sure everybody survived. But then I see the infirmary. I see Deus Ex and the rest of the top-siders, wounded, battered, and more than a little bruised. They were lucky to survive. As lucky as I was that night in Atlantic City, I guess.

But luck has its limitations.

[Edited on 2/4/2004 by TheDemonHunter]

posted on Feb, 4 2004 @ 02:12 PM
very nice DemonHunter, look forward to reading more flashbacks from you

posted on Feb, 4 2004 @ 02:15 PM
Thanks WorldWatcher. As the ideas come, I'll run them by DE (have to keep plot continuity intact after all) and then post them here.

posted on Feb, 4 2004 @ 05:20 PM
Does my story proud, TheDemonHunter. Keep them coming!


posted on Feb, 5 2004 @ 01:56 PM
Tossing and turning, I was desperate for the escape sleep would bring. I just wanted a few hours away from this insanity, from this hole in the ground, from the world as a whole. A few hours of nothingness to ease the pain. A few hours without another report of an attack upstairs.

A few hours without another report from Lysergic that the world was one step closer to being a place beyond the control of even the controllers out there.

I closed my eyes and began my breathing exercises again, hoping to somehow wind up far from the Adirondacks – far from the world threatening to destroy itself outside my home.

I just…. needed… sleep…..

I awoke to the sound of gunfire, sitting up to find myself laying in the shaded snow of a dense pine forest. Looking around, I was confronted by the disturbing sight of some very familiar faces.

“Famine? What the hell’s goin’ on?” I asked groggily, trying to remember where I was. I felt cold, really cold.

A stocky blond turned to me looking more than a little confused, his blue eyes piercing as ever. “You don’t know?” Seeing how I wasn’t in a hurry to answer, he said, “Time for the last ride, man. And you volunteered to take point for us, like you always have.” His breath frosted the air as he spoke. Why could I see everyone else’s breath but my own if it’s so cold though?

Trying to shake loose the cobwebs, I saw the others around me, all of us seemingly dressed for battle, as we always had been. Full camouflage for all the guys but me, it seemed, which was certainly par for the course. My own preferences for black were neither questioned nor agreed to by my teammates over the years. But the redhead in black leather sure didn’t look like she belonged here. I’m not sure where she would have belonged to be completely honest.

“Lord Demon,” she said, bowing her head, “finally you have come to lead us out of this savage hell hole.” Death and Pest rolled their eyes at that comment while Famine just shook his head in disbelief.

This didn’t make any sense. I never even met Myst, much less worked with her in person. So that ruled out a hallucinatory flashback of some kind. Where the hell was I?

Death looked over at me. “We’ve got your back, War.”

Still somewhat unsteady, I looked around, asking, “Which way are we headed?” It all looked like just another dense forest to me.

Pest pointed to my left. “Down the path, man. You know the way, fearless leader,” he laughed. He always was a smart ass. Just like old times, I guess.

I glanced over to my left again, now seeing a stone pathway that wound back through the trees. But that path wasn’t there before. I was sure of it. “Must have a concussion or something,” I thought to myself. “Better not say anything though, ‘cause I know they’re countin’ on me.”

Picking up my staff, I started down the trail, wondering where it would lead us. Their mood was surprisingly jovial given the gunfire in the distance, the ice on the rocks, and our ready-for-anything attire.

After a few miles they got really quiet though. Like there was nothing left to laugh about or something. I guess we were out of jokes, just like every time we’d gotten together the last ten years. Always good for the first hour, but usually after that, somebody would bring up who screwed over who and it would break down into a brawl. Looked like we weren’t going for the knockdown-drag-out, but that might have been a show for Myst’s benefit.

After a while, I looked back to ask a question about where we were headed, but I didn’t see anyone. Then came the screams from back up the trail. My instincts all told me that something was very wrong about the whole situation, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I started back the way I had come, first walking carefully, then jogging, and then finally I cut loose in a full-on run. I couldn’t believe I had lost them so easily.

Running back up the trail, I eventually wound up back at the same spot where we had left from. And all I found were their weapons and clothing, all spattered in blood.

I screamed out loud as I fell to my knees. “I’m not losing them again! I’m not! I can’t lose them again…..” My voice faded as I broke down in tears once more, closing my eyes in the hopes that it was all just a bad dream.

I opened my eyes again in a cold sweat as I lay there panting under a sheet in my bed. My breathing slowed down as I became more aware of my surroundings, but I still had that aching emptiness that gnawed at me. I’d lost them again.

Just as I started to gather myself back together, Lysergic knocked and entered. “Hey DH, sorry to bother you, but I thought you’d want to see these reports coming in over the net.” I stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to answer. “DH…? Hey did you hear me...? It’s getting pretty bad for citizens stateside.”

Taking a deep breath, I looked over and answered, “Yeah…. I’ll be right there, man.” He nodded slowly and backed out the door once more.

After a moment to gather myself up physically, I pulled on my clothes and set off in search of some coffee.

A few minutes later, I walked into the command center, coffee in hand, seeing it buzzing with activity for a change. “Okay boys and girls, what’s the latest news I don’t want?”

Lysergic handed me a print out as I settled in, leaning against one wall. The numerous voices seemed to blend together into a symphony of chaos as I rubbed my eyes and drank my coffee, trying to absorb as much info as possible. We had a dozen people crammed into the room, all seemingly talking at once like the White House press corps after a big-time speed binge. It was going to be a long day, as usual.

No time for sleep now, and I guess it’s just as well. There are people depending on us.

And I’m getting tired of coming up short in my dreams after all we’ve been through here. I’m just hoping I can help make a difference in this craziness that we’re left to call reality.

[Edited on 2/5/2004 by TheDemonHunter]

posted on Feb, 5 2004 @ 05:17 PM
excellent, excellent...

it's aaaaallllll falling into place.


posted on Feb, 5 2004 @ 05:29 PM
very nice demonhunter

posted on Feb, 8 2004 @ 06:39 AM
Note: Follows the Events of Deus Ex's "My ATS Story" Chapter 13: Upon This Rock...

Wind in my hair, scent of the forest, night of a full moon, and I’m on a solo hunt again – it all seems so perfect as I move along among the trees. Makes me feel alive again, like I’m back to what I was meant to do. I can almost feel everything around me as I make my way silently and swiftly through another forest.

Moccasins let me feel the ground under me as I take each step and are soft enough to give me control over how loud my footsteps become. My eyes are adjusted nicely and I’ve got my night vision to guide me. I can hear the crickets chirping. It all just feels so right.

And then I get to the tree line and what I see snaps me back to reality and ruins my good mood.

Looks like Lieutenant Jones wasn’t lyin’. Looks like a small industrial complex or somethin’ down the embankment fifty yards or so ahead of me, all surrounded by ten-foot fencing with barbed wire. Looks like it’s made to keep people in instead of out, so I’m bankin’ they won’t be lookin’ for me outside. I’m willin’ to bet the guards are starting to think nobody is dumb enough to try anything around here. I hope my luck holds up on that one as I scan the situation and reach for my mini binoculars.

Lit up like daylight of course, to keep people from hiding as they cross the compound, I’m guessing. A group of new campers is bein’ herded from an unmarked white school bus to the main building at the center of the camp for processing and assignments, I’d have to guess. Turns my stomach to see these yahoos pushin’ and shovin’ honest people like this. Only thing I could do by myself is get killed though, and that wouldn’t help anyone, especially the ones I left behind at home.

I see the scared looks on their faces. Probably pulled half of ‘em from their beds, from the sleepy looks some of ‘em have. The only thing they all seem to have in common is they all look scared – men, women, and children alike.

For a moment, I wonder if this is what happened to the ones who never showed up at the bunker, but I have to push that thought to the back of my mind for now. The problem is that while my thoughts are driftin’ to the people I’ve lost, I’m not concentrating on keeping myself from joining them. The alarm that goes off does a pretty fair job of jarring me back to reality again.

Looking around, I try to scope out what’s going on, ready to make a speedy exit, but it looks like the alarm isn’t based on anything I’ve done. Best thing I can do is try to hold my position and wait this out.

And then I see her.

A girl in her late teens or early 20s is caught up on the barbed wire, tryin’ to make her escape. My brain tells me she’s too far away to help, but it’s all I can do to restrain myself and not go chargin’ across open terrain to help her. I grit my teeth and clench my fists as I hear the staccato rat-tat-tat-tat that sounds out across the compound as her body is invaded by multiple miniature leaden assassins.

She looks me right in the eye as she takes her final breath, the blood staining her bright orange jumpsuit. As she falls off the fence, her dark hair blows in the breeze, the only movement left to a body so young, and just moments ago so alive.

Another needless death that I’m powerless to prevent. But at least she gives me hope that not everyone is just laying down and accepting whatever fate they’ve been dealt. That’s more hope than I’ve had about anything else since this trip started.

Too much activity here for now though, so it’s well past time I get my ass out of here.

Sliding my binoculars back into the pouch on my belt they came from, I slowly creep backward from the treeline, trying to maintain the silence I pride myself on. And then I turn and screw the whole thing up by breaking a dried out twig under my foot.

So much for stealth, I guess.

Runnin’ like my life depends on it, and I guess it does, I take off through the woods, hoping beyond hope I don’t run into anyone on the way. My luck seems to be holding though as I don’t see anyone following me.

I break cover on the other side of the woods a few moments later, looking for my ride. Timing has gone bad in a hurry on this one, and I can only hope the driver Evans set me up with didn’t get pulled over for driving at night or something. I knew I should have checked him for broken tail lights and stuff.

Just as I’m about to give up and begin the trip on foot, I hear the old Chevy big-block I was waitin’ for. He slows down just enough to let me jump in the passenger door of his pickup as I hear the barking dogs coming through the woods.

“What took you so long?” I ask, glancing over at him as I catch my breath.

“Had reservations for dinner at Spago’s in L.A. The flight was late getting back,” he growls in reply, trying desperately not to crack a smile.

I just laugh and shake my head, relieved to find someone with a sense of humor out here. After the last few weeks, the laughter is a much-needed release.

[Edited on 2/16/2004 by TheDemonHunter]

posted on Feb, 8 2004 @ 06:41 AM
Good work, TDH. The story moves further adn further forwards...


posted on Feb, 8 2004 @ 06:51 AM

Originally posted by DeusEx
Good work, TDH. The story moves further adn further forwards...


Thanks, DE. Like I've told you before, I'm just happy to have a small role to play in the world you're creating.

posted on Feb, 9 2004 @ 03:11 PM
It’s been almost two days since I’ve slept in my travels to see the internment camp outside Albany. Now on the return trip to the bunker, my thoughts keep drifting off to happier times as I doze here in the back of this old Bronco the Adirondack Militia Group’s Fifth Company scrounged up to get me back to the bunker.

I close my eyes and see where we’ve been already, from the start of hostilities all the way through today’s horrors, and it makes me laugh. I can’t help but wonder what everyone was thinking when they got that anonymous invite in their e-mails. My love for lyrics had to have kept them all wondering about what they were getting into.

To: ATS Members
From: TheDemonHunter

Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up AND THAT'S AN INVITATION, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up TO MAKE A RESERVATION, roll up for the mystery tour.
The magical mystery tour is waiting to take you away,
Waiting to take you away.

Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up WE'VE GOT EVERYTHING YOU NEED, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up SATISFACTION GUARANTEED, roll up for the mystery tour.
The magical mystery tour is hoping to take you away,
Hoping to take you away.

Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up AND THAT'S AN INVITATION, roll up for the mystery tour.
Roll up TO MAKE A RESERVATION, roll up for the mystery tour.
The magical mystery tour is coming to take you away,
Coming to take you away.
The magical mystery tour is dying to take you away,
Dying to take you away, take you away

(Directions Attached)

The Demon Hunter

A bump in the road jars me back to the waking world, but the driver lets me know there’s no cause for alarm. Resting again, I drift off to sleep, giving in to the exhaustion that’s been trying to overwhelm me.

Just a mini-chapter to give a little backstory -- feedback on all of this is always appreciated.

posted on Feb, 9 2004 @ 07:29 PM
LOL.... I like it. Kind of eerie but funny.


posted on Feb, 9 2004 @ 07:34 PM
good stuff
I enjoy reading your work.

posted on Feb, 13 2004 @ 08:45 AM
Good Stuff, I really can't wait for the next part.

posted on Feb, 24 2004 @ 01:42 PM
I shook my head groggily, only vaguely aware of my surroundings as I tried to move despite the pain I was in. No such luck though as I realized the guy who’d been driving was now laying on my legs, apparently dead. Looking up, I could see the seat he’d fallen out of and could only assume that we’d rolled somehow while I was asleep.

That’s when I heard the voices.

“Move in slowly, boys,” was the call from above me, or was it below? Tough to tell when the truck you’re laying in is apparently on its roof. From the way everything was kinda blurry and the ringing in my head, I figured I probably had at least a concussion. Reaching up I didn’t feel any blood on my head, so I had to guess there were no lacerations.

Shaking the cobwebs loose I began to move slowly out from under my driver. Only name I’d gotten from him was his codename in the Adirondack Militia, Bronco Billy. Looks like Billy would need a lot more help than I could give him. First aid I can do, but resurrection is a bit beyond the scope of my talents.

I realized that wisecrack thoughts like that were wasting the few working brain cells I had at the moment and decided to take things seriously until I was safe again, if that ever would come.

“Check for survivors and be careful. Those militia men are crazy and might be laying in ambush in that Bronco.”

Hearing that out loud made me wonder who I was dealing with. Professional units would likely have used hand signals and would have planned for this situation. They also would probably have firebombed this thing if they were looking to destroy it and its occupants. Something didn’t make sense here, even with only a fraction of my usual sensibilities about me.

Looking out, I could see that it was twilight. I knew I was outnumbered and probably outgunned. This was not how I had planned to go out, not that anyone really wants to plan their own demise. I reached for Billy’s MAC-10 and steeled myself for the brutal gunfight that seemed inevitable.

Then came the screams from above. Sounded like they’d run into someone or something else before they could get to me.

Crawling out of the wrecked Bronco, gun at the ready, I looked up in time to see a man in hunter’s camouflage fall down the ravine, landing beside me. Dude had an arrow sticking out of him. Curiouser and curiouser. Made me wonder which side was doing what since I hadn’t seen anybody before this.

And then I got my answer.

“Are you Colonel Hunter?” asked a man peering down the steep embankment, his .45 aimed dead at me. That probably made this guy one of Evan Jones’ boys from the Adirondack Militia, since he insisted on that name. I sure as hell hoped so, at least. Rank isn’t an issue for me, but Jones had told me his superiors wanted to make sure their people knew I had a position in things. Not that Hunter is my last name either, but I digress.

Ready for a bullet to hit at any time, I answered, “Yeah, that’s me.” No sense in hiding at this point, I figured. If they wanted me dead, I was a goner.

“Colonel, I’m Captain Dan Reichert of the Adirondack Militia. My men are coming down to get you out, sir. We were supposed to rendezvous with Bronco Billy to provide you with some additional information on the camp you went to.” He paused, looking down at me carefully, studying my face before asking, “Where’s Billy?”

I shook my head, looking Reichert in the eye before looking back to the smoking remains of the wrecked Bronco. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before ordering his men to help me up.

After about twenty minutes, they were able to get me back up the hill. My legs hurt, but it didn’t seem like anything was broken. I was just bruised all to Hell. Small comfort given my transportation was out of commission. Looked like it was going to be a long walk for the last ten miles home.

After a somewhat cold, emotionless briefing on the camp by Captain Reichert, I looked to him one last time, extending my hand. “Please send my condolences and best wishes to his family, Captain.”

“I am his family,” Reichert responded just as his men set the wrecked Bronco on fire, Billy's dead body still inside. He ignored my hand as he turned away, leading his men off into the shadows of the forest.

Yeah, this was going to be a long walk.

posted on Feb, 24 2004 @ 03:07 PM
Good stuff, TDH. Now, I should have my next chapter up by thursday.


posted on Feb, 27 2004 @ 10:51 PM
Note: These events immediately follow Chapter 15 of Deus Ex's My ATS Story

The sting of another slap to my face got my attention as I hung by my wrists, chained to the wall. I couldn’t remember how long I’d been there, how much pain I’d endured, but my body felt like mush. I could barely breathe, as each inhalation sent a new kind of agony through my horribly broken ribs. I could barely hold my head up enough to see what was going on by this point, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.

Four men dressed like Nazi SS stood before me, with their sadistic grins and incessant chatter mocking me in my weakened state. I strained to see beyond them, across the blood-spattered room to the solid metal door. Something about the door seemed familiar but I couldn’t place it, like a faded memory or a sense of déjŕ vu perhaps.

One of the men barked out an order to the others, but since I don’t speak German, I had no clue what it was. I braced for the worst.

But they turned their attention from me, laughing as the door swung open. From the pitch-black emptiness outside the confines of my cell, a raven-haired woman was thrown in. She stumbled to the ground, unable to keep her footing on the blood-slicked concrete floor and sliding to a stop in front of me on her hands and knees.

One of the men kicked her in the stomach as she was sprawled on all fours, flipping her onto her back as her head bounced off the cold cement. I winced, feeling her pain shoot through my head as they took turns beating her. She was treated like an unfeeling object, with the men alternately beating and groping her. The laughter never stopped for them.

I felt helpless as my rage boiled up within me. Her cries for help and whimpers of pain echoed around the cold, barren room, sounds that drove a dagger through my heart. All I wanted was to let loose on these sadistic bastards, but the chains held against my weakened muscles. Even all the adrenaline flowing through my veins wasn’t enough to break loose of the steel links that had me bound to the wall.

Her clothing was tattered and torn, with several of her joints disturbingly misdirected. Her screams turned to sobs as they took turns raping her, all as I struggled against my bonds.

All my anger, all my frustrations built up within me, as I struggled in vain to break free.

It never seemed to end. After what seemed like hours, everything in the room was spattered with her blood, including me. The stench of blood and death was like a slaughterhouse, which certainly seemed fitting in this case. It was nauseating and only served to fuel my rage.

The one who seemed to be the leader pulled her to her feet once more, her hair matted down with blood and sweat. Pulling her up in front of himself, he faced her to me, pulling back her hair to reveal the fragile, damaged beauty of the witch who’d named me The Demon Hunter.

And then with a smile, he snapped her neck.

A scream shook me to the core of my being, and I sprang forward, growling like an animal as I let loose the animal in my soul. The chains wouldn’t stop me this time. Nothing would stop me from taking vengeance. Nothing would stop me from avenging my beloved Witch. I hit the ground ready for a fight, ignoring the pain and the wounds I’d suffered.

But the floor I hit on all fours was back in my quarters. I was in the bunker. It had just been another nightmare. Just another nightmare.

I pulled back my rage, slowing my breathing and my heart, trying to gain control over my body once more. My ribs and legs were sore, along with my right shoulder, but I knew these were just the leftover pains from tumbling down an embankment without a seatbelt. I slowly rose to my feet and eased back to sit on the edge of the bed once more, my head in my hands.

A knock at the door jarred me back to reality. I pulled on my sweatpants as the door opened.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I looked to the door but couldn’t put a name to the face in front of me. She looked familiar, but in my state of mind, nothing was quite right just yet.

“DH…. You need to get out here. Deus’s patrol is back again and uh….” Parrhesia let out a long sigh and slowly shook her head, trying to find the right words. “Well you need to see this for yourself.”

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to be good?” I asked, pulling on a red t-shirt as I followed her out the door, almost running into Lysergic.

“DH, am I glad to see you’re up and around.” he said. “You really need to look at what’s going on.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Tell me what I don’t want to know on our way up to…”

Parrhesia cut me off. “The problem is downstairs, not upstairs. Deus and his squad have all been down the infirmary…. including two more fatalities.”

“#. Let’s find out what happened.”

The three of us descended the silo stairs to the makeshift infirmary.

I’d never intended to have to keep the infirmary fully staffed and supplied, but luckily I’d paid attention to Death’s warnings when we planned out the bunker during his visit, back before the world went to hell. “Even Special Forces get hurt sometimes,” he’d pointed out. Since he was the only one of us to actually go that route, I had to admire the fact that he admitted they got hurt. It was a far cry from the old belief that we were all immortal or something. I guess I’d always taken it for granted that nobody would get seriously hurt, just like we’d been so lucky in all of our “operations” as the Four Horsemen.

I’d long since stopped believing that naive little theory though. Past history has no influence on current events, I’d found. I guess I’d always known that to be true, but we’d defied the odds so many times that it didn’t really sink in as reality. My reality check came when not everyone I’d invited made it to the bunker.

As I stepped through the infirmary door, I looked around at the wounded laid out on cots around the room. “Damn, you guys look like you had a private search party for Mad Cows or something.” Looking back, that didn’t come out nearly as funny as my incoherent mind thought it was at the time. Looking around, I quickly asked, “Um…. where’s Deus?”

Saucerat spoke up, “Parrhesia sent him off to clean up so she could redress the old wounds.”

Seeing Saucerat wasn’t too badly hurt, I walked over to him and took a seat on his cot. “What happened out there, Sauce? I heard it got pretty hairy.”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle, DH, but I think this place is less of a secret than you thought. If it wasn’t for Deus, we might be facing a lot more trouble though. He was amazing.” Saucerat related the story of how Deus charged the three corporate soldiers on his own, sending two of them to their untimely demise the old-fashioned way – with his sword. “He was amazing out there. If anyone wasn’t convinced before that he was the real thing, that should explain why we’ll follow him anywhere he leads.”

Lysergic interjected, “Yeah but we need to be more conservative to keep our people alive. If everyone goes off half-crazy like that we won’t have anyone to go on patrol.”

Gothique was the next to sound off. “I don’t see you out there leading patrols Lysergic. It’s easy to say how we should react when you’re not out there.”

“That’s enough out of all of you.” With a stern look, I reminded them, “Save that anger you have for our real enemies -- those corporate goons. Now that’s the last I want to hear this, boys and girls. Is that understood?”

They all reluctantly nodded in silence.

I turned and walked out of the infirmary, followed by Lysergic.

“DH, you know that we can’t just let them…”

“Look man,” I interrupted, “I don’t think they should be out there throwing themselves into the line of fire either, but this is not going to be turned into a situation where they’re made to think that their work is unappreciated. There’s a way to go about this.”

I stopped on the stairs, taking a deep breath as I looked back down at Lysergic. “We can discuss their tactics with them when they’re not in the process of being sewn up. For now, we just keep an eye on things to see how they react.”

With that, I turned and went back up the stairs, trying to ignore how fuzzy my vision seemed to be.

[Edited on 2/27/2004 by TheDemonHunter]

[Edited on 2/27/2004 by TheDemonHunter]

posted on Feb, 27 2004 @ 11:28 PM
Another great post. We got some sort of crazy-ass melody going here.

Keep it coming, omae.


posted on Feb, 28 2004 @ 12:12 AM
Good stuff, you actualy had me thinking you were really in trouble in the begining
keep it comming. I should be able to catch up in the storyline in the next few days because I'm off for a week and I'll have plenty of time on my hands.

posted on Feb, 28 2004 @ 01:20 AM
Thanks Ranger! I'm looking forward to seeing what you have up next on your part of the story too.

I like to keep people guessing whenever possible.

top topics

<<   2  3  4 >>

log in