Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-35251736-20180302183609

''Authors note: This is one of the many stories I’ve been working on. Due to the length and content I decided to break it in two. It still needs some grammatical vetting, but my main reason for deciding to go with a 2-parter is because I’m not sure it fits the Wiki and I didn’t want to bang out 20K words and be stuck with a story that is going nowhere. Let me know what you all think. Also this is inspired by Battlegrounds, Dark Souls and the Long Walk. '' -

“You are jumping in 15! Are you ready to die American?” I could barely hear the bulky Ruskie over the grumbling noise emanating from the rusted C130. “I asked you a question!” As he yelled I felt his massive hand crack my jaw as he brought it against my face. I stared into his cold eyes and didn’t say a word. Ten years of constant bloodshed, ten years of unending death has gotten me immune to pain, immune to his taunts. The only fear I felt was of what I will have to do once my boots hit the ground. It’s truly amazing what the human mind can withstand in the moment of violence. I keep telling myself I have another option, but the soldier in me won’t pull the trigger, won’t give up that easily. The Russian decided to interrupt my thoughts:

“I see you choose to ignore. It is, how you say, A-OK? You are scrawny, small, weak. I doubt you survive ten minutes.” I kept staring. He may not know who I am, what my role was… is in the war. But I do. Even if I have to kill everyone on the god forsaken island, I will walk away. “No quip, no American wit? Very well, I’ll make sure to piss on your corpse when they pull it out of the dirt.” Still not getting anything from me, he moved on to the younger soldier to my left. This guy, had to be no more than 22, probably got captured during his first deployment. But he was big, looked athletic, maybe he could prove to be a decent ally in the coming fight. “Don’t try to get in my head, you commie fuck!” The young man spat it out in a thick Brooklyn accent before the Russian officer could even get out a taunt. “When I’m done here, I’m coming back and I will rip your fuckin’ throat o…” Before he could finish, the ‘Commie Fuck,’ removed his Grach pistol and used it as a club to open up a jagged gash on the side of the young New Yorker’s head.

“Still have anything to say Jersey Shore?” The Red piece of shit had a grin on his face nine miles long, “Or does the Snooki have your tongue?”  Brooklyn looked up, none of the fire in his eyes had diminished:

“I’m from New York you prick, my pizza doesn’t taste like a gumba’s ball sack.” I tried to stifle a laugh but failed miserably. I could see the hate bubbling up in the Russian’s eyes, but before he could retaliate the intercom started crackling and a pleasant female voice washed over us:

“Attention, today’s match will be made up of 50 two person teams. Please look at your seat number. If you are an odd number look to your right and if you are even look to your left. The person you are now looking at is your partner and if you work together, you may have a chance to survive.” I found myself staring at the man from Brooklyn, and him staring back. “I guess you’re my new best friend,” he held out his hand, “Sergeant Luca Bandoni, 75th Ranger Regiment.” I took his meaty hand in mine and shook lightly: “Marik Kistich, I...” I trailed off. Did it matter if this man knew what I did? Odds are we both end up face down in the mud, our bodies riddled holes. I guess it didn’t matter anymore. “…I work for the Company.” I saw the look of surprise and then confusion on his face, he leaned close and whispered:

“CIA huh? I thought the orders were if you guys get captured you take a little cyanide pill and bam, no info for those Red-fucks.” I put on a sly smile:

“Sometimes orders are pretty outlandish and it’s easier to just pretend you’re an ops admin who got lost heading back to HQ.” Luca laughed:

“Oh man, so what’d you do? Steal a few patches and hope for the best?” My grin slowly subsided as I recalled my past actions:

“Some private from Missouri or Michigan or somewhere, was tasked with driving me to a FOB 10 clicks west of the Eastern Front when our truck came under attack. He was killed immediately, took a 7.62 through the skull. I was able to take control of the truck and get some distance before it died on me. I switched clothes with the kid, thank god rigor mortis didn’t set in yet.” Bandoni looked at me with a bit of compassion and said:

“We gotta do shit to survive, I’m glad to know you’re willing to do what it takes.” Willing to do what it takes. Yea, I can’t tell you how many deaths I’m responsible for, I can’t tell you how many men, woman and children I have killed in the name of American Imperialism, but I can tell you no matter how impossible the situation, I always end up with a pulse and a few bad memories. Before I could delve further into my pained thoughts, a short, skinny red head with a face full of freckles and acne scars waved me over:

“Hey, look guys, we’re…we’re not even combat trained. Like we…we both only fired our weapons at basic. Hell, I don’t even know how to use a parachute…” I looked at who he was referring to as “we.” Next to him was a rather hefty fellow, sweating bullets and barely able to keep himself from crying. “What the fuck do you 2 bullet sponges want from us?” Luca asked rather menacingly, “In the end no more than 2 people are making it out of here. You want us to keep you alive long enough so you opportunistic cowards can shoot us in our backs?” He was right of course, the only people we need to look out for were each other. The kid looked at us and in an even more pathetic voice pleaded:

“Please, just switch up with us, we may have to kill each other, but at least if we trade partners Cappy and I will have a chance of seeing home again.” I saw the pain in his eyes, the begging, while his fat partner, Cappy, just stared at the floor. They were already dead. I looked at Luca and he shook his head once. “Well then, fuck you!” the kid spat out, “if I see you down there I won’t hesitate!”“Good. If you want to see home again, you shouldn’t,” as I said this, the kid sat back in his seat looking dejected, despite his emotional outburst. I don’t think there is a part of me left that would help the kid, and it looked like Luca had his motivation to stick with someone a bit more resilient then a ginger twig and a weeping fat body. I wish I could look around and still see these men and woman as my allies, but all they are, is fodder getting in the way of my possible freedom. As I again found myself lost in the dark vacuum that is my mind, I noticed something I couldn’t pass up. I turned to Luca and whispered:

“So, the scumbag who smacked us around, notice where he is standing?” As I said this I subtly nodded my head in the direction towards the back of the plane, where’d we be jumping out. I saw a smile, almost evil, creep onto Luca’s face:“You thinking we take him with us?”

“In a way. He has a chute, but he also has a combat knife in his boot. Maybe I distract him, you gut him? Or vice versa?” Luca’s smile turned into a devilish snarl:

“I’ll gut.” I nodded once and sat back in my seat, waiting for our turn to jump. There was no doubt in my mind that Luca, with the hate behind his eyes and his muscular frame couldn’t handle disemboweling the oblivious Russian. It is only moments before I make my jump 10,000 feet to the ground, but as is my tradition before risking my life, I let my mind ponder on my past experiences.

I remembered when someone, maybe an instructor at the Farm, or a fellow agent, once told me the best way to survive is to think of home, remember what you are fighting for. Heh, it’s a difficult task when all you have is a slew of ex-wives, parents who disowned you, and siblings who look at you like a stranger. The only reason I survive is truly because I know no other way. I don’t think I fear death anymore, maybe because it eludes me in times of its certainty or because I simply do not crave life any longer.

The funny thing is I never planned on this life, I just got the offer after I finished my studies at Colombia. A man in a non-descript black SUV asked if I wanted to ‘serve’ my country. Being the only conservative patriot in my graduating class I took the man up on his offer. Look where that landed me, in a rickety old plane about to land on an island and forced to kill my own countryman.

“Ok, you rats! Are you ready to shed some blood?!” The Russian asked, sporting an air of arrogance mixed with excitement. “Line up, 2 lines, next to your partners!” Luca and I got up slowly, no rush to be closer to men we will have to kill. The Russian grabbed hold of a piece of rope jutting out of the wall while the bay door slowly creaked open. I could feel the wind rushing past my face and barely heard my own thoughts. I turned towards Luca and I saw a look of pure determination on his face, he was ready to kill.

We inched closer to the edge watching as our soon to be enemies made the plunge, the Russian mad with glee was laughing manically as each duo jumped. We were two groups from the front, the skinny redhead and Cappy were about to go over. I could feel the fear resonating off of them, the red head closed his eyes and leapt. Cappy just stood there, now openly weeping. “Please, Please no. I have a family, we have money, please anything!”  He cried out, but the Russian just smiled a toothy smile:

“I count to three and you jump, or I put bullet in your brain.” Cappy started shaking, I saw as he lurched forward, vomiting the contents of his stomach all over the boots of the Russian officer. In a flash the Russian’s smile soured and he removed his pistol from its holster. The following boom was thunderous, resonating through the thin metal cab of the C130. The bullet entered Cappy’s skull, spraying the line with blood and bits of flesh. Cappy’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor and the Russian unceremoniously kicked it out into the open air.

“Next,” he said, as if he didn’t just execute a man in cold blood. The two in front us had to grab hold of the walls, to not slip in what was left of Cappy’s brain on the floor. They made their jump and we heard our call. “Look who it is, my favor…” I didn’t let him finish, I put all my weight into a head-butt aimed directly at his nose. I felt as the bone cracked and a geyser of hot, coppery blood erupted on my face. Before the son of a bitch had a chance to register what had happened, he felt his own knife puncture his soft stomach. Luca twisted the steely blade and yanked it sideways, spilling the Russian’s hot innards on the floor. I grabbed hold of his pistol and yanked it out of the holster. I knew Luca and I wouldn’t stand a chance of surviving the 3 guards rushing towards us with fully auto AKs, but I felt starting with a weapon may give us an advantage.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go. We don’t want those Ruskie’s knowing who we are!” Luca yelled as he made his dive out of the plane. I took one look back at the Russian, who was currently trying to put his intestines back inside of himself, flipped him the bird and made the jump.

I remember the first time I jumped, the wind rushing into my face, the euphoric feeling of enlightenment as I soared through the heavens and the thrill that one mistake could lead to certain death. But today was not jump training at Fort Benning, nor was it the jump with my ex on our third date, it was a jump into a life or death fight.

As I was freefalling I angled my way towards Luca and when I was within distance I gave him a solid tap and pointed in a direction. My plan was simple, push out as far as we could and keep distance from the other participants. Luca acknowledged my plan with a thumbs up and we continued our decent.

Once we were low enough we ripped the cords to our shoots, feeling the slight pull on our harnesses. “HEY!” Luca shouted and waved towards a group warehouses. I turned in my harness and saw multiple groups pulling their cords and floating in different directions, hoping they didn’t land where we were going. I started scanning the ground, looking for places Luca and I could scour for weapons, food and the gear we would need for the coming days. Eventually I saw a warehouse at least one hundred meters from our initial planned drop point and I started aiming my chute steadily towards it, with Luca following behind.

I felt my knees buckle slightly as I made my running landing. I quickly removed my chute and watched as Luca landed roughly ten yards ahead of me. We both sprinted into the warehouse and started scavenging. “Oh shit son!” Luca proclaimed. I looked over to see him holding an M16A1, it looked like it hadn’t seen use since the Vietnam War. Luca disappeared from view as he bent down to pick up more supplies. “I got 2, nope, 3 mags of 5.56. 20 round mags though and this fuckin’ thing is fully auto.” After hearing Luca’s admonishment of his weapon, I was silently hoping that the other teams were also getting stuck with vintage firearms. I started getting a bit worried I would not have anything useful, except for the 9mm I currently carried, until I spotted the gleam of metal in the corner of the warehouse. I made my way over, careful to take a quick peak outside before noisily looking through the container. As I reached in the pried open box, I immediately felt a rush of frustration come over me. The shine of metal I saw was from the hook part of a three foot crowbar. “You find something good?” Luca asked.“No. Crowbar and I still have the nine from our first kill of the day.” I again took a peak out of our current cover and gathered our surroundings. Sparse vegetation, open field with no other buildings around and just small patches of forest dotting the edge.

“You check your fanny pack yet?” Luca yelled down to me. He was now on the top floor of the warehouse, looking under plastic tarps and poking through half open crates. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about until I looked down and remembered. Before boarding the plane each participant was given a small pack that strapped to the outside of their thigh. We were given strict instructions, of course under the penalty of death, to not to open our packs until we landed. I quickly unzipped the small container and found two electronic devices and a rolled up piece of paper. I put the devices back in for a moment and read the note:

Participant,

You have been bequeathed with the great honor of entertaining the people of the Reborn Soviet Republic. Those who survive are granted full immunity for their crimes against our great nation and sent back to their country of origin. For this match you are blessed with the gift of a teammate. Each member of your team has a GPS and a communicator. Just simply speak the serial number of your partner’s microphone into your own and once you both do, you will be connected. The GPS will periodically remove an area of the map. If you are caught in an area that has been removed, you will have 20 minutes before one of our Wardens comes to remove you from the competition. There are no rules, except survival.

“You read it yet?” Luca asked, rather vehemently. “You are blessed,’ the fuckin’ nerve of these commie-shits, they threw us on an island and are telling us to kill each other. How the fuck are we blessed? Because we get a new bestie to die with?” I let out a small chuckle and had Luca read off his serial number, and I followed suit. Once we were connected I booted up the GPS.

“Looks like we are right on the edge of where we need to be, but what the hell is a Warden? You think they mean soldiers?” I asked, and Luca looked as puzzled as I was:

“Well, we have weapons, so I doubt they are gunna send their guys to get fragged by a bunch of POWs. But who the fuck cares, let’s just avoid that as best we can.” I nodded in agreement, right now our main concern needs to be gear. “Look about half a click south,” Luca pointed to my GPS, now wrapped by its leather band to my wrist, “there is a cluster of buildings, behind those trees.” I studied the map, looking at the space between myself and the next scavenging site.

“Nothing to hide behind on the way, but we landed pretty far from anyone else. I think if you cover, I can make a run for it.” Luca looked at me and nodded. Few words needed to be spoken, he understood the risks I was willing to take.

Luca started climbing to the top of the warehouse, wanting to make sure he had a visual on me and the space I’d be running through. “Ok,” I heard Luca’s gruff voice on the mic, “This is the best I can do for now, just get to the houses and keep me posted.”

“Heard.” I started running at a full sprint, hoping I didn’t catch the attention of one of the other “competitors.”  I was roughly 50 yards from the buildings we saw and starting to think my little run wasn’t all that dangerous when Luca crackled over the mic:

“Marik! You got a team headed your way from the left, uh one has a rifle and the other…a machete. Once you get to the houses, you got maybe 2 to 3 minutes before they are on you.” I’m tough, but I win fights based on my intelligence, not my strength or combat prowess. If two armed men were closing the gap on me, I needed to set a trap and quick.

“You said rifle on 1 of the guys, but the other, no gun of any sort?” I asked into the mic, hoping Luca hasn’t lost faith in me.

“I didn’t see anything, but I could be wrong. I’m 300 yards away looking down shitty American made iron sights.” Fuck. If he was wrong my trap will end up getting me killed and leaving Luca out to dry. As I second guessed my plan, I made my way around the small tree line and was able to finally catch a glimpse of the buildings. If I wasn’t pumped full of enough adrenaline to run a space shuttle I would of felt a bit uneasy seeing these buildings, well houses in the middle of an open field, with no signs of life.

They stood in a small cluster, seemingly centered around a broken granite fountain. The house directly in front of me was painted a brownish-yellow, with chips of the ugly paint peeling off and exposing cracked aluminum siding. I made my way around it, realizing it will be hard to hide in a place filled with so many holes. I scanned the next three houses quickly and settled on a house opposite of me. It was two stories instead of one like the other homes and didn’t seem to be as dilapidated. As I finalized my decision I heard Luca whisper through my mic:

“They cleared the tree line, you safe?”

“Yea,” I responded, “going off comms, I’lll let you know when it’s clear to head my way.” I wanted to sound confident, last thing I needed was my partner losing conviction and leaving me to die. As inaudibly as I could I hopped through a broken window on the opposite side of the tree line. I took a look at my surroundings and saw the perfect place to lay my trap. The bottom floor had an open layout, with a small bathroom in the back corner. I walked in and smiled to myself. To my right was a large shower stall and when the door opens, it completely blocks the stall from sight. The toilet stood opposite of the shower, and would be the first place any would be looter would see. I gingerly placed my stolen pistol on the toilet, doing my best not bang the metal frame on the porcelain toilet. Once the pistol was placed, I took a step into the shower, readied my crowbar and waited.

It’s hard to believe how much my life has changed, how much I have changed. I remember feeling ideologically superior about humanity and their inherent good as I sat in my International Morals class at Colombia. The professor, of course a mega-progressive who identified as three different genders, was arrogantly proclaiming the human race no longer deserved to think for itself, that we needed a class of open-minded intellectuals leading it. I was so heated, but I knew if I opened my mouth, the petty tranny would probably fail me.

The most ironic part is the past 15 years have lead me to agree with the crazy bitch. Well maybe not outfit our country or world as a Geniocracy, but definitely the fact that people are complete shit. Only humans could think sending 100 men to an island to kill each other was a fantastic way to entertain and keep your country passive. But in reality it wasn’t necessarily about the bloodshed for me, it was the fact that humans repeatedly made the same mistakes, generation after generation. If a species can’t stop annihilating each other, does it even deserve life? This, this is my justification for killing so many, and for the lives I will be ending in the coming days. I firmly believe humans do not even deserve anything anymore, that they are truly a despicable cause to stand for. I know it’s odd that my job is find the truth and protect my nation, but honestly, I only do it because I know nothing else.

My internal soliloquy was broken up by the sudden noise of the front door opening and muffled male voices I could barely make out:

“Gear check man.”

“I got an M1911, Ak-47 and a machete, you?”

“FN FAL, no pistol or blade.”

“Fuck, alrite this is the last house here, I’ll check upstairs, you got downstairs.”

“Works for me.” I heard the first voice make his way upstairs as the second’s footsteps started approaching my hiding spot. I closed my eyes and steadied my breath, anticipating the perfect kill. I watched, almost in a trance, as the door swung open. “Oh hell yea!” my target exclaimed as he briskly made his way to the toilet. He picked up the Grach, and inspected it. Watching his every move, I slowly lifted myself to a standing position and carefully edged closer to a killing distance. I lifted crowbar up, positioned it slightly sideways and then swung with every ounce of my strength. The sharp, hooked end landed exactly where I aimed, right into the man’s soft neck. As soon as I contacted, I placed my foot on his back and ripped the crowbar backwards as hard as I could, tearing the man’s jugular, carotid and vocal cords in one fell swoop. He was dead in an instant, with almost no noise to arouse suspicion. I quickly made my way to the edge of the walled stairs and waited for his partner to arrive. The ultimate goal was to take him down without a shot, risking that no other team would come to the area.

“Hey! You find anything?” I heard the second man yelling down the stairs, “I found a nice pair of boots, warm jacket and a friggin’ Kevlar vest.”  If I could feel pity anymore I would, this man is beginning to feel hope and a chance of seeing home again. But alas, it’s him or me and that’s always been an easy decision. “Hey, you hear me?” I moved back towards the bathroom, trying not slip in the pooling blood. These men have just met each other, and I doubt the living one would recognize his partner’s voice.

“Yea, got a pistol!” I yelled up to my faux partner. It felt like an hour until he responded:

“Ok, nice. Grab what ammo there is and let’s get the fuck out of here, I got a creepy feeling ‘bout this place.” As he was speaking I could hear as he moved towards the stairs. As quickly as I could I made my way back to the wall. I listened as each step creaked under the man’s weight, trying to quickly surmise how I would put this man down without creating a havoc. “Oh shit, I forgot I found one more jacket if you want to come up and grab it,” the man said from about halfway down the stairs. Fuck, this guy was a real team player.

“I’m good!” I called back, “Uh, found a hoodie in the shower.” Possibly the worst excuse I could come up with, but it was something.

“Odd, whatever, Ruskies aint known to be too privy to the norm,” the soon to be dead competitor said. I again heard him start heading down the stairs, taking his sweet time. Once I heard him getting closer to the bottom of the stairs, I swung around hoping to catch him with the crowbar. Twang! The metal crowbar connected with his shin, I could feel the reverberations up the shaft of my weapon. “Fuck!” he yelled, so much for keeping it quiet. He tumbled down the stairs landing face first on the bottom step. Before he could react any further, I brought the crowbar down on his head, feeling it crack under the crowbar’s weight. I brought it down three more times, sending bits of bone and blood to splatter against the wall and my face. Breathing heavily, I turned my mic back on:

“Both are dead, you are clear to come here.”

“Holy shit,” Luca replied, “you must be the real deal, I pegged you for dead.” I laughed aloud and retorted:

“I may not be as young and fit as you, but I make up for it in experience. But I do have some weapons, I’ll get up on the tree line and give you cover.” I ran back to where my first victim perished and grabbed the FN FAL. Ak’s are great weapons and all, but I needed something with a bit more control. Luckily the man not only had the rifle, he also had an ACOG scope and of course he was holding my Grach pistol. I grabbed all I could, booked it to the tree line and advised Luca to start trucking it.

As Luca started running towards my position, I used my scope to spy on the open expanse, looking for any sign of movement, when something caught my eye. Roughly two football fields to Luca’s left, I saw light refracting off of something on the ground, it took me a second, but I realized I was looking towards another sniper. I took a breath and pulled the trigger twice, the loud bangs sounded like thunder claps on the abandoned, silent island. As my weapon settled back down to focus on where the sniper lay, I saw that the gleam was gone. I was positive the shots didn’t connect, but it sure as hell scared the man away. “What the fuck was that?!” Luca yelled as he got to my position, “You trying to fuckin’ cap me man?!”  I gave him an annoyed look, but calmly said:

“Sniper was looking this way, I scared him off.” I saw Luca’s face redden and take an apologetic look:

“Sorry brother, nerves are on edge.” I nodded slightly and signaled for him to follow me. I lead him over to the two story house where I had just ended two men’s lives. Luca took one look at the carnage, and said softly, “Jesus, I spoke to these guys on the ground…both of them Marines, they had wives, kids at home…” I hope one day a sentence like that could fill me with guilt, but today wasn’t the day:

“Their dead, so we can live. Get geared up and let’s move out.” Luca looked up at me. It seemed that the gravity of what we must do to survive had finally dawned on him. He swallowed deeply, closed his eyes and almost whispered:

“How the fuck could you kill them so… easily? I mean these guys, they were on the same side…fuck, just ignore me.” I looked at him, and he knew I couldn’t ignore this, so in one quick move I pulled my 9 millimeter out and placed it gently against his head.

“Luca, to me the choice is simple, if you aren’t willing to do what it takes then you are just DEAD weight.” I put an emphasis on dead, making him think killing him was my ultimate goal, even though I planned to do no such thing. The fire in Luca’s eyes reignited:

“Put the gun down old man, or I’ll break your arm and shove it up your ass.” I smiled as I lowered my weapon:

“I wasn’t gunna kill ya kid, just needed to make sure you weren’t shell shocked into submission.” Luca took a deep breath and grumbled:

“All right you asshole, I’ll keep my shit together, but you can pay for my enormous therapy bills when we get out of this.” I laughed out loud and pointed towards the recently dead marine lying at the bottom of the stairs.

“Ok, I grabbed what I could from the guy in the bathroom, this one is all yours.” The kid gave me a disgusted look, but he knows this is my way of making sure he is true to his word. He leaned over and gingerly pulled the rifle off the man’s shoulder and grabbed the pile of clothes and Kevlar lying next to the corpse.

“You need a jacket or anything? Gunna get cold, well if we are still in the northern hemisphere,” Luca asked. I looked at him and said:

“Yea, there may be another one upstairs, I’ll go get it.” Luca seemed to still be getting his shit together and nodded once as I made my way up the stairs. As I got upstairs the stink of new blood was subtly over-taken by the scent of rot. This island is used monthly, so it was no surprise to me I could smell the left overs of a few long-dead American soldiers.

The upstairs was the opposite of the bottom floor. Where the bottom was open and airy the top seemed be made up of only bedrooms and thin hallways. The first room I entered held the jacket I was looking for. Unlike the weapons we have been finding, the jacket was a newer model and made from waterproof gortex. I slid it on, enjoying the feeling of wearing something besides a ratty white t shirt. “Feels good wearing something that doesn’t smell like piss, eh?” I asked into the mic.

“Yea, if I make it out, my one request is to have these clothes burned,” Luca responded, seemingly back to form. “If?” I asked.

“When,” Luca retorted. If there is anything I have learned, it’s a positive attitude is half the battle.

“Luca, I’m going to make a quick sweep up here before we move on, check the gps and see where we want to go next.” Luca grunted in acknowledgement and I made my way through the rooms. As I got to the last door, a strange feeling of dread washed over me, supposedly the same feeling the Marine had before I killed him. I shook it off and nudged open the door. As I peered inside, the smell of rot became over powering. There were no bodies, but someone died here and from the aromas infiltrating my nostrils, they died ugly. But I walked in anyway, my curiosity and strong stomach prevailing, and I started taking in the room. The old purple carpet was faded and clearly has been cleaned repeatedly, the white walls more of the same. The most interesting, albeit most worrisome part, were the three deep drag marks in the wall, as if some massive animal was trimming its claws. “Luca, I got something weird up here,” I said in the mic, “Looks like something besides a human killed some folks up here.”

“Huh? I’m coming up.” I heard as Luca’s big frame clambered up the stairs. “Where you at?” I popped out the door and gave him a nod, and he made his way over. “What. The. Fuck.?” Luca asked, confused about my discovery. “Looks like a fucking Velociraptor came in here.” I walked up to the marks and ran my hand through them, truly realizing the size and power of whatever made them.

“Maybe that’s what they mean when the say ‘wardens?’ Maybe they release some sort of attack animal?” Luca gave me a condescending look and said sarcastically:

“Yea, Boris and his attack bears come out of hiding the minute we are out of the zone.” I gave him a dirty look, but decided an argument wasn’t the best direction to go in:

“Well, let’s just hope we don’t run into whoever or whatever did this.”

“Agreed, and sorry, I’m not known to be to enjoyable to be around. Only person who has ever liked my sarcasm is my wife.” I looked up at him and quickly understood what his motivation was. If I was a fatherly figure or ever tried to be someone’s mentor I’d say something like, ‘You’ll see her again,’ instead all I said was:

“Let’s just keep the personal shit to ourselves, heard?” Luca, as if already expecting the emotionless response nodded curtly and started moving down the stairs. “You find a place to head to?” I asked, trying to distract us from our mild in fighting. Luca waved me over to look at his GPS and said:

“See the whole ‘playable’ area is a circle, and the areas outside the circle are where you get killed or taken or whatever. We are right on the edge and need to move southeast-south, only issue it looks like out choices are open fields or areas heavily laden with buildings. The other issue is here,” Luca put his finger directly on a large channel that separated us from where it looked like the circle would be closing on, “Looking at the scale, it’s about half a mile wide and I doubt we are going to want to swim that.” I looked at my GPS trying to find some route to the island.

“Two bridges, one in the North the other in the South, only issue is they make great choke points,” I said, “I think I saw vehicles all over the place and if there are cars, there may be boats, let’s not lose hope yet.” Luca nodded in agreement and we set at a quick pace towards the channel.

“Stop,” I hissed. Luca stopped in his tracks and got himself into a prone position.

“What is it?” He whispered, “People up ahead?” I turned around and nodded. Even though he was the soldier, I volunteered to take point due to the fact our present circumstance wasn’t as distracting to me. I low crawled my way behind a wide aleppo pine and signaled for Luca to follow suit.

“I saw two guys about 50 yards ahead of us, moving in the same direction about 10-15 yards apart. I think it would be best to avoid them for now, and just wait until they are further away.”

“No. We take ‘em down now, quick and clean, less to worry about later,” Luca whispered. I wasn’t sure if this was strategic planning or his desire to prove himself as a valuable team member, but I decided to humor him:

“Ok,” I said handing him my rifle, “Look down the sights and spot them, once you do tell me the game plan and I’m in.” Luca took the old rifle and scanned the area in front of us for a few moments, pausing intermittently and taking mental notes.

“Ok, we kind of got lucky here. Between us and them there are a dozen or so more of these trees. If we move fast and quiet and use the trees as cover, we can catch them off guard.” His simple plan could work, but the one worry I had were the multiple gun shots.

“Interesting plan, but how do we not draw anyone ou…” THWACK, THWACK, THWACK. Three rounds ripped into the opposite side of our tree, splintering bits of wood outwards and into the ground next to us. “Fuck, looks like the saw us first!” Luca leaned around the corner and fired a few rounds in the general direction of the incoming fire:

“Ok, ok I got eyes, one is flanking left, your side and I got other providing cover. I’ll run right, you lean out and take out the tango moving to flank, Heard?” I was taken aback, but was truly reminded this young man was a Ranger and at least had some of his shit together. I handed Luca his M16 and took back the FAL. “All right, send some rounds down range and I’ll make a break!” I whipped around the corner and saw my target immediately get behind a tree, so I inched further outwards and sent some rounds towards his partners direction while Luca took off to the right. The fusillade of bullets striking the trees and ripping through leaves sent a surge adrenaline through my body. The feeling of your life being ended abruptly by a well-aimed shot or an unlucky piece of shrapnel sent careening into your exposed flesh truly awakens the animal inside. Luca made it to cover and my target popped out and fired one round before going back behind cover. To me, that means this guy was scared.

“Luca,” I said over the mic, “My guy is nothing to worry about, give me cover and I’ll take him out and then we pincer the last one.”

“Ok! 3,2,1…covering,” I heard as Luca let loose a burst of fire from his old rifle. I immediately ran, arching left around my target, hopping tree to tree as Luca distracted his partner. The enemy combatant came out of cover twice, each time not firing. It was only a moment before I was completely to his left, with him unaware. I took aim down my scope, held my breath and pulled the trigger. My fellow POW collapsed immediately, the large caliber round piercing the side of his head and sending bits of him to the forest floor.

“Mine’s down, what’s the status on your guy?” I asked into the mic.

“Guy has me pinned pretty good, whatever he has is full-auto and I’m down to my last mag.”

“Shit, ok flank further right, I’ll pop a few shots in his direction!” I laid prone and aimed back down my sights, the man’s pine was at least 4 feet wide, making it impossible for me to get a clean shot. But I had to distract him for a second, so Luca could move. “You ready?” I asked into the mic:

“No, there is only cover by a tree directly in front of him, I’ll have to move left instead.” Fuck so much for a pincer attack:

“All right, I’ll try to flank to his left. You go no further than in front, hopefully he finds you to be the better target, so I can get a shot. But I’m ready, start moving,” I responded. I switched my rifle to full auto and let off a burst of fire towards the tree and Luca immediately moved to his right, finding cover behind a bullet riddled spruce. Like I expected, the man turned his rifle in my direction, trying to see where the shots came from. Before I could say anything, Luca sprinted full tilt towards the soldier’s tree, the dead marine’s sidearm in his hand.

At the halfway point between the two warriors cover, Luca’s target made the intelligent decision to engage the enemy he could see, but as he moved to fire he exposed himself and gave me the opportunity to send rounds careening towards his head, forcing him to lurch forward and in Luca’s direct line of fire. Luca raised his M1911 and took aim at the man’s head and too his credit my fellow POW looked Luca right in his eyes and nodded his head once. Luca, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. It always seems that the gunshot that kills a man was the loudest and this one was deafening.

I made my way over as the soldier slumped to the ground, while Luca dropped his pistol and sat down against the tree. “Get up,” I growled, “everyone on the island heard this fight and I bet they would love to get their hands on our shit. Luca violently punched the ground:

“Fuck you old man, not everyone is perfectly fine with killing their brothers,” Luca spat out at me. I walked quickly up to him and yanked him to his feet by the collar:

“Do you want to see your fucking wife again? Huh?” I grabbed him and shoved his face in the direction of the man he just killed, “Look goddammit! This is what you have to do to fucking live! This is what it takes to see your family, and if that doesn’t seem fair, get the fuck over it, because that’s our truth now, that’s our fucking reality!” I finished my rant by pushing him away and busily looking through the dead man’s belongings. As I got my hands on his Steyr Aug and his roughly 6 magazines of 5.56, I heard Luca start approaching me. Before I could turn I felt his meaty hands grab me by the back of the neck. With little effort he lifted me up and slammed me face first into the ground. I immediately tasted dirt and blood and saw stars run across my eyes. Without missing a beat, Luca sent a painful kick to my midsection and I felt the wind rush out of me. I stayed down momentarily, silently hoping he was done.

I then got myself up to my knees, coughing and sputtering as I felt Luca send a wad of spit on the back of my head. Thinking I was done, Luca turned and went to pick up his dropped weapons. I spit out a gob of blood and a bit of tooth while pushing myself off the ground.

“You hit like a bitch,” I grumbled as I dusted myself off. Luca turned and charged me, his eyes filled with the fire and rage I saw back on the plane, but this time I was ready for his burly frame. As soon as he was in arms reach, I dodged to the right and brought a right hook across his face, his momentum and my hit sent him careening towards the ground. Before he had a chance to rejoin the fight, I pounced on his back and grabbed him in a choke hold. “You done?!” I yelled at him.

“F…F…Fuck YOU!” he choked out, while sending three quick elbows to my already bruised rib cage. I rolled off him, feeling searing hot pain shoot through my midsection. Luca rolled over and grabbed for my throat, with no other option I sent a hard kick into his genitals, making him double over in pain. We laid there for a short period of time, both of us feeling our injuries. I turned to him and asked:

“Hey, why hasn’t anyone found us and killed us yet?” Luca, moved to a sitting position, hand still cupping his aching testicles.

“Probably because they heard you kick people in the nuts...” I let out a burst of laughter:

“Had no choice man, you were beating the shit out of me,” I said hoping I kicked the aggression out of him. Luca Stood up and reached his hand out and said:

“Listen, I’m not good with this, but if I get to see Tessa’s face again, it will make it worth it. But in all reality, you are the only person on this island I’d be ok with killing at this point.” I took his hand and smiled:

“If I had a dollar for every person that I worked with that openly wanted to kill me, well I’d be a rich man.” Luca snorted and said:

“I believe it. But back to your question, I think it’s a bit suspect that no one has come to investigate all the gun fire.” As I pondered over our unheard-of luck I realized quickly why we were not in another gunfight.

“Luca, look at your GPS…” The map was slowly shrinking, revealing that we had maybe 5 minutes to get to a safe area, which, by the map scale was half a kilometer. “Fuck, it’s gunna take more than 5 minutes before we get safe,” I pointed out.

“But we still need ammo and these guys seemed loaded,” Luca responded. I took a deep breath and said:

“Ok, so whatever is out there, probably won’t kill us immediately. I’m thinking we grab what we can and book it. We run fast enough, I doubt we will get ganked for being a little late.” Before I even finished, Luca was running towards the man I killed, clearly no longer wanting to face the one he ended. I finished picking up the Aug and the five magazines left scattered around the carcass and saw that he had a backpack. I shimmied it off his shoulders and was lucky enough to find a long-range scope, some medical equipment and a hand grenade. These guys must have landed somewhere a bit more heavily laden with weaponry. I gathered what I had and waved Luca over, thinking he would stop and at least discuss where we should run to, instead, he just took off towards the safe area. I rolled my eyes and followed suit.

After about five minutes at a full sprint, the fear of being stuck out of the safe zone dissipated, as the logical fear of other people waiting for stragglers set in. “Luca,” I crackled through the mic, struggling to talk and breathe correctly at the same time. “We are getting close, maybe running full tilt out in the open isn’t such a good idea?”

“Looks like there are houses to our right, we’ll be fin…” Before he could finish his sentence, automatic gunfire erupted from behind us and shred the ground around our feet. Both of us started zig-zagging, hoping the shooter had terrible aim. I felt as the rounds punched by my head and saw them pound the ground in front of us, Luca suddenly made a sharp turn to our right and dove behind a thick concrete wall that wrapped around the outside of the housing unit. I rapidly made my way to him and lunged over the wall, feeling the rounds puncturing the thick concrete.

“How far till we reach the zone?!” I yelled through the incoming gunfire.

“Looks like only 100 yards are so!” Luca screamed back. Fuck, we were out of time and under some serious fire. I popped out for half a second and immediately a fullisade of bullets erupted in my direction.

“Fuck! We’re pinned! Crawl left, I’ll crawl right, and, on my signal, we unload. Whoever he aims at, the other runs!” Luca nodded his head once and started crawling at a fast pace towards the left end of the wall. “1,2,3!” I shouted. Simultaneously we popped out of cover and rained fire in the direction of the shooter. When I finally got a good look at our new friend I realized who it was. The fucking ginger. He was marching towards us in full body armor carrying an m240 bravo. He was still 150 yards away, but with the large caliber machine gun’s effective range being almost 900 yards, that didn’t help us much. Without a scope, it still seemed he recognized us and decided he hated me more. He let loose another barrage of rounds, this time directly at me, and as he did so Luca sprinted the 100 yards to the safe area. The ginger seemed disinterested in my partner, and kept his munitions pointed at me.

“Ok, 100 yards back there is a ditch,” Luca yelled through the mic, “I can give you some cover, but my 20 round mags are gone in half a fucking second!” I breathed deeply, wishing now I just snapped that ginger twink’s neck back on the plane.

“Luca, don’t waste your ammo. I’m pinned, but this retard couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn and he has to reload soon, cover your six and I’ll take care of carrot-top.” I checked my rifle, making sure I had a few rounds left in the magazine, and I closed my eyes as shots started ripping through the concrete wall. In a flash I stood up and let loose a few mis placed rounds in the kid’s general direction and started a zig zag run back to the ditch.

“You’re a fuckin’ nut case Kistich!” I could barely hear Luca over the sound of the .308 blasting away the earth at my feet and the large caliber rounds zipping by my head, but in seconds I made the distance and landed next to Luca with an audible thud. “Holy shit, you got any bullets in you?” I felt my body and looked for any excess holes, and luckily found none.

“Nope, looks like the God of War is still on my side.” Luca grinned and stated:

“So, you gunna kill baby face or are we…” Luca stopped mid-sentence as the shooting abruptly stopped, thinking the kid was reloading I popped up onto the ridge of the ditch and aimed down my recently recovered high-power scope.

The kid had just reached the wall and was indeed reloading, I held my breath as I leveled my sights. The FAL wouldn’t punch through his armor, but a shot straight to the head may still kill him, just by sheer force alone. But before I could make the fatal shot, something strange started occurring behind the kid. The relatively clear day was quickly consumed by deep grey, almost black clouds. The ginger stopped what he was doing and finally took notice of the strange occurrences happening around him. He removed the heavy helmet adorning his head, leaving it unprotected. The stormy clouds slowly but surely reached the spot on the GPS that marked the edge of the unrestricted area. Only a few feet in front of me was a darkened land, encompassed in the black clouds. As I was observing, Luca popped up next to me looking himself.

“The fuck...” Luca was looking down at his GPS, “Looks like the weather is fine in the area we are supposed to be in and it’s shit out there…holy shit, it feels like 60 degrees, but I can see the kid’s breath!” Luca was right, wisps of air escaping the ginger’s lungs could be seen hanging around his open mouth, as if on cue the kid shuddered violently as if beset by a chilling wind. “What the hell have the ruskies cooked up…it’s like they made some sort of we …” Before Luca could finish his sentence a clap of thunder reverberated through my brain, almost knocking me off my feet. Within a second, a powerful bolt of lightning struck the ground near the ginger’s, sending him careening backwards, away from the wall. I thought that was it, and after seeing what rose from the smoldering, smoking ground I wished the lightening is what the reds created to finish us, but it was something much, much worse.

The ginger got up and dusted himself off, but he seemed to be completely ignorant of what was unfolding behind him. The smoke started clearing, and before where I only saw movement, I caught my first glimpse of a “warden.” The man or beast stood at least 8 feet tall, his body adorned in thick black robes, I couldn’t catch a glimpse of its front, but I could tell its face was covered by a hood or shawl. It made its way toward the unaware combatant, as it did so the beast’s arms extended outwards, revealing thick, metal claws roughly 2 feet long. The zing of the metal scraping along the ground caused the kid to finally turn around. His said it all, even from my distance I could tell he was frozen in place, the fear coursing through his body. The towering monster stood over him, and in a flash all six of the beast’s blades were thrust inside the skinny ginger. Almost nonchalantly the monster ripped his massive appendages sideways, tearing the kid to shreds.

“Holy fuck!” Luca yelled as chunks of flesh and blood rained down over the monster. “Kistich, please tell me you got some intel on that thing…” Luca whispered. I just shook my head as I leveled my rifle towards the monster, unsure if it would even do anything. I pulled the trigger twice, watching as the rounds punched into the monsters back. Nothing. Just some dust from its shawl puffed out, but no pained reaction or collapsing in a pile of blood. “Really?! The fucking thing just appeared out of thin air and you decide to shoot it?! Is kill your only setting?” I gave Luca a dirty look and went back to watching the monster, but in the half second I turned away, it was gone!

I used my scope to scan the tree line and the hills beyond where the monster last appeared, but it seemed it left without a trace. I moved closer to the edge of the unrestricted area, hoping I’d find a better angle. I took aim again, looking through the scope with my right eye and keeping the left open. Suddenly, I was hit with the overwhelming stench of a perforated colon left in the sun for a few days. I closed my eyes, hoping to high heaven that the beast wasn’t near. I slowly opened them, and the only thing I saw was black.

The beast towered over me, as my whole body tensed. Fear rippled through my body, leaving me locked in place. The head of the beast was covered in a black hood, which in turn shrouded its face in a blanket of darkness. But even though I could feel its desire to tear into me with its claws, it just stood their staring.

“Kistich! It can’t go past the boundary!” I heard Luca yelling to me, but I couldn’t move. Years of war and death couldn’t train someone for the fear you feel when a demon stares into your eyes. Logic told me it wasn’t a threat, but the shit dripping down my pants leg did. Without reason I started walking towards the monster, getting ever closer to its razor-sharp blades. My whole world was slowly turning black, the beast was in my head and I was his. I could feel his millennia of torment as he sucked me into his eternal embrace. I knew this must be the end as my foot crossed the boundary into the darkness…

To be continued… 