RED ALERT CHRONICLES
PART 1: DESOLATOR
By Michael O'Hare
He could not hear anything, and he could not feel anything, save for the suit. The soft, monotonous humming from within, and the unnatural heat. Anything outside of those two things was unknown to him. It had been like that for most of his life, since he donned the Desolator's armored suit two years ago. He had never taken it off, since. He had forgotten what he looked like, at this point, and had no idea what the radiation had done to his body.
He did not care, however. It did not matter to him, at all. All that mattered to him was the overwhelming, intoxicating power that coursed through his body, every second of every day of his life. His adrenaline was at maximum every second of his life. He did not need to eat, and he did not need to sleep. He felt invincible. He felt like a god.
"Desolators, you're up!"
The voice snapped him out of his trance, and he quickly stood up with the other Desolator soldiers, moving past the other troops towards the plane's hatch. As they slowly moved past the others, he could see the uneasiness in their eyes, uneasiness borne from being so close to him. He smiled an unseen smile streaked with sadism as he saw their faces, some not even trying to disguise their fear.
"Listen up," he heard their commander say over the plane's intercom, "we shall be dropping the Desolators two miles East of the Allied base... and the conscripts shall be dropped one mile West of it. The Conscripts are to wait for further reinforcements before further orders. The desolators are to search the area for any infantry, and eliminate them... while steering clear of the Conscripts' position."
"Understood," came the unanimous cry from him and his comrades, and they quickly, one by one, leapt from the plane and deployed their chutes. Even from the air, he could see several Allied soldiers rushing towards them. He smiled wickedly once again as he saw them, appearing so small and fragile from up here. His smile deepened as he thought that, once he reached the ground, they would become very fragile, indeed.
As soon as they hit the ground, the Allied soldiers rushed at them, their guns blazing. Their shot impacted heavily against his armor, but he reacted like they were not even firing. He pointed his radiation cannon at the nearest soldier, and pulled the trigger.
A burst of green, radioactive energy pulsed from his cannon, striking the soldier square in his chest. The soldier only had time to scream once before his body lost its solidity and began to quickly melt into a viscous green puddle of irradiated slime.
In the instance that happened, the rest of the world shut off from him. Only he and his victim existed. He watched with wicked, cruel joy as the soldier's body glowed green and lost its form, the soldier struggling to keep himself together and upright during his last, agonized moments of life. His breathing became heavy as his adrenaline reached unnatural highs within his body, and the overwhelming joy that killing brought him filled every aspect of his body.
He was suddenly and violently snapped from his personal Euphoria as a bullet bounced violently off of his helmet, leaving a small crack. He turned towards his opponents, his hateful eyes glowing green, and a green mist pouring from the crack in his helmet. All at once, he and his comrades fired their cannons into the group of soldiers. Bodies melted, leaving a puddle of green filth where humans once stood. The surviving soldiers panicked as they realized that the puddle they were standing in was once their comrades' bodies, and stumbled to escape, many slipping in the puddle, and bringing others down with them. He approached the panicking group, ignoring their wildly fired shots, and readied his radiation cannon.
All at once, the group of soldiers stopped, and stared at him with abject horror. He lifted his cannon up, and screamed madly.
He violently slammed his cannon into the ground, and a glowing green cylinder suddenly rose from the back. Immediately, the ground around him in a wide radius was poisoned with his unbelievable levels of radiation. The ground became parched, and the plants and trees quickly withered and died. The soldiers quickly melted, as well, their screams echoing into the night.
As the last soldier melted into the ever - widening puddle, he lifted his cannon back up, and the cylinder slowly set itself back into place. He and the others stood still, relishing the residual poison still in the area.
"All units in the area!"
The voice of his commander once again snapped him back to reality, as it sounded over the headset built into his helmet.
"We are moving into the Allied base. All infantry units wait for the heavy armor to destroy the defenses, then move in! Get into positions immediately!"
As he moved through the trees towards the base, he could hear explosions, and the sound of Kirov airships hovering overhead. Once again, his adrenaline reached unspeakable highs.
Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of pure, sadistic ecstasy, coupled by an unspeakable adrenaline rush, pumping through every part of his body. The Allied base had been well defended, but nothing they could not handle. Now, Soviet armor and infantry were tearing through it. Explosions rocked the area, as Kirov Airships dropped their payloads from overhead, and buildings burst into orange blossoms of flame.
He and the other Desolators moved slowly through the battlefield, leaving a trail of melted bodies and poisoned earth behind them. There was little or nothing their enemies could do to stop them, and they fell effortlessly before them. All around him, fires raged uncontrollably, and the stench of burnt metal and cooked flesh hung heavy in the air. There was not much left to the base, and everyone knew what that would lead to. They were ready and waiting for the order to retreat to be given.
Just then, his radio crackled, and the command every single soldier in the battlefield had bee waiting was given.
"All units, pull out of targeted area. You have five minutes to pull out of the targeted area!"
Immediately, the entire Soviet force began pulling away from the battle, most trying their best not to appear panicked as they did so. He moved with his comrades so as not to be overwhelmed, but he would stop running shortly. He had made the decision long before he even leapt from the plane, long before he had even donned the Desolator armor for the first time.
Just then, the sirens started, their deafening blare overwhelming everything else in the battlefield. Immediately, the battle stopped, and everyone scattered, trying to find some sort of shelter from the oncoming destruction.
He ignored all of this, he did not even move. Instead, he stared upward in an unblinking gaze, searching for it, becoming more and more impatient with each passing second. He was ignored by his enemies, their terror the only thing on their minds, the siren the only thing they could hear.
His eyes widened with joy as the nuclear missile broke through the clouds and plummeted downwards. It was moving quickly, but, to him, everything was moving in slow motion. All around him, the sirens blared, and soldiers of all sides scattered in terror. He stood perfectly still, however, staring up at the oncoming missile not with fear or dread, but with maddened joy. His eyes followed the large missile as it fell from the sky and hit the ground violently.
The missile impacted, and a blinding flash of light burst from it, followed by a deafening boom. Almost immediately, the shockwave, and the seemingly impossible heat, followed.
All around him, buildings collapsed, people and vehicles burnt to a crisp, and the very earth itself caught fire, bathing his body with searing heat and levels of radiation deadly even to someone like him. Just about everything around him was immolated almost instantly, but he would be able to withstand the bomb's power for much longer.
He stood perfectly still in the atomic firestorm battering him, not terrified, but instead overflowing with a maddened joy. He felt the metal of his armor slowly burn to a crisp and snap off of his body, allowing him to feel the full force of the blast. He did not stare down at himself, although the desire to see this flesh liquefy and fall from his bones was more than noticeable within him. He simply shut his eyes, and let the intoxicating, almost orgasmic pain fill every aspect of his body.
The overwhelming power he had known in life would be the only think he knew in death, and he could not think of a better way to die.
DISCLAMER(S)
Command & Conquer: Red Alert 2, and all related characters and concepts are owned by Westwood Studios. This story is owned by the author (me). The pants I am wearing are owned by me, as well.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
You know, I'm going to be brutally honest with everyone. I'm not one hundred percent pleased with this story overall. I mean, I do like it, and I personally think it came off rather well, but I still think I could have done better. I don't know what it is, either. It's just something...
Then again, maybe I'm just setting the bar too high for myself. Maybe I'll be happier with the Tesla Trooper's story, eh? I don't know. My head hurts right now, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.
PART 1: DESOLATOR
By Michael O'Hare
He could not hear anything, and he could not feel anything, save for the suit. The soft, monotonous humming from within, and the unnatural heat. Anything outside of those two things was unknown to him. It had been like that for most of his life, since he donned the Desolator's armored suit two years ago. He had never taken it off, since. He had forgotten what he looked like, at this point, and had no idea what the radiation had done to his body.
He did not care, however. It did not matter to him, at all. All that mattered to him was the overwhelming, intoxicating power that coursed through his body, every second of every day of his life. His adrenaline was at maximum every second of his life. He did not need to eat, and he did not need to sleep. He felt invincible. He felt like a god.
"Desolators, you're up!"
The voice snapped him out of his trance, and he quickly stood up with the other Desolator soldiers, moving past the other troops towards the plane's hatch. As they slowly moved past the others, he could see the uneasiness in their eyes, uneasiness borne from being so close to him. He smiled an unseen smile streaked with sadism as he saw their faces, some not even trying to disguise their fear.
"Listen up," he heard their commander say over the plane's intercom, "we shall be dropping the Desolators two miles East of the Allied base... and the conscripts shall be dropped one mile West of it. The Conscripts are to wait for further reinforcements before further orders. The desolators are to search the area for any infantry, and eliminate them... while steering clear of the Conscripts' position."
"Understood," came the unanimous cry from him and his comrades, and they quickly, one by one, leapt from the plane and deployed their chutes. Even from the air, he could see several Allied soldiers rushing towards them. He smiled wickedly once again as he saw them, appearing so small and fragile from up here. His smile deepened as he thought that, once he reached the ground, they would become very fragile, indeed.
As soon as they hit the ground, the Allied soldiers rushed at them, their guns blazing. Their shot impacted heavily against his armor, but he reacted like they were not even firing. He pointed his radiation cannon at the nearest soldier, and pulled the trigger.
A burst of green, radioactive energy pulsed from his cannon, striking the soldier square in his chest. The soldier only had time to scream once before his body lost its solidity and began to quickly melt into a viscous green puddle of irradiated slime.
In the instance that happened, the rest of the world shut off from him. Only he and his victim existed. He watched with wicked, cruel joy as the soldier's body glowed green and lost its form, the soldier struggling to keep himself together and upright during his last, agonized moments of life. His breathing became heavy as his adrenaline reached unnatural highs within his body, and the overwhelming joy that killing brought him filled every aspect of his body.
He was suddenly and violently snapped from his personal Euphoria as a bullet bounced violently off of his helmet, leaving a small crack. He turned towards his opponents, his hateful eyes glowing green, and a green mist pouring from the crack in his helmet. All at once, he and his comrades fired their cannons into the group of soldiers. Bodies melted, leaving a puddle of green filth where humans once stood. The surviving soldiers panicked as they realized that the puddle they were standing in was once their comrades' bodies, and stumbled to escape, many slipping in the puddle, and bringing others down with them. He approached the panicking group, ignoring their wildly fired shots, and readied his radiation cannon.
All at once, the group of soldiers stopped, and stared at him with abject horror. He lifted his cannon up, and screamed madly.
He violently slammed his cannon into the ground, and a glowing green cylinder suddenly rose from the back. Immediately, the ground around him in a wide radius was poisoned with his unbelievable levels of radiation. The ground became parched, and the plants and trees quickly withered and died. The soldiers quickly melted, as well, their screams echoing into the night.
As the last soldier melted into the ever - widening puddle, he lifted his cannon back up, and the cylinder slowly set itself back into place. He and the others stood still, relishing the residual poison still in the area.
"All units in the area!"
The voice of his commander once again snapped him back to reality, as it sounded over the headset built into his helmet.
"We are moving into the Allied base. All infantry units wait for the heavy armor to destroy the defenses, then move in! Get into positions immediately!"
As he moved through the trees towards the base, he could hear explosions, and the sound of Kirov airships hovering overhead. Once again, his adrenaline reached unspeakable highs.
Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of pure, sadistic ecstasy, coupled by an unspeakable adrenaline rush, pumping through every part of his body. The Allied base had been well defended, but nothing they could not handle. Now, Soviet armor and infantry were tearing through it. Explosions rocked the area, as Kirov Airships dropped their payloads from overhead, and buildings burst into orange blossoms of flame.
He and the other Desolators moved slowly through the battlefield, leaving a trail of melted bodies and poisoned earth behind them. There was little or nothing their enemies could do to stop them, and they fell effortlessly before them. All around him, fires raged uncontrollably, and the stench of burnt metal and cooked flesh hung heavy in the air. There was not much left to the base, and everyone knew what that would lead to. They were ready and waiting for the order to retreat to be given.
Just then, his radio crackled, and the command every single soldier in the battlefield had bee waiting was given.
"All units, pull out of targeted area. You have five minutes to pull out of the targeted area!"
Immediately, the entire Soviet force began pulling away from the battle, most trying their best not to appear panicked as they did so. He moved with his comrades so as not to be overwhelmed, but he would stop running shortly. He had made the decision long before he even leapt from the plane, long before he had even donned the Desolator armor for the first time.
Just then, the sirens started, their deafening blare overwhelming everything else in the battlefield. Immediately, the battle stopped, and everyone scattered, trying to find some sort of shelter from the oncoming destruction.
He ignored all of this, he did not even move. Instead, he stared upward in an unblinking gaze, searching for it, becoming more and more impatient with each passing second. He was ignored by his enemies, their terror the only thing on their minds, the siren the only thing they could hear.
His eyes widened with joy as the nuclear missile broke through the clouds and plummeted downwards. It was moving quickly, but, to him, everything was moving in slow motion. All around him, the sirens blared, and soldiers of all sides scattered in terror. He stood perfectly still, however, staring up at the oncoming missile not with fear or dread, but with maddened joy. His eyes followed the large missile as it fell from the sky and hit the ground violently.
The missile impacted, and a blinding flash of light burst from it, followed by a deafening boom. Almost immediately, the shockwave, and the seemingly impossible heat, followed.
All around him, buildings collapsed, people and vehicles burnt to a crisp, and the very earth itself caught fire, bathing his body with searing heat and levels of radiation deadly even to someone like him. Just about everything around him was immolated almost instantly, but he would be able to withstand the bomb's power for much longer.
He stood perfectly still in the atomic firestorm battering him, not terrified, but instead overflowing with a maddened joy. He felt the metal of his armor slowly burn to a crisp and snap off of his body, allowing him to feel the full force of the blast. He did not stare down at himself, although the desire to see this flesh liquefy and fall from his bones was more than noticeable within him. He simply shut his eyes, and let the intoxicating, almost orgasmic pain fill every aspect of his body.
The overwhelming power he had known in life would be the only think he knew in death, and he could not think of a better way to die.
DISCLAMER(S)
Command & Conquer: Red Alert 2, and all related characters and concepts are owned by Westwood Studios. This story is owned by the author (me). The pants I am wearing are owned by me, as well.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
You know, I'm going to be brutally honest with everyone. I'm not one hundred percent pleased with this story overall. I mean, I do like it, and I personally think it came off rather well, but I still think I could have done better. I don't know what it is, either. It's just something...
Then again, maybe I'm just setting the bar too high for myself. Maybe I'll be happier with the Tesla Trooper's story, eh? I don't know. My head hurts right now, I'm going to bed. Goodnight.