This is sort of an experiment for me. I was reading around the Far Cry section, and I got this idea. Now, I'll accept OC's in this story, but only a certain (undetermined as of yet) number. This starts off before Jason Brody gets to Rook Island.

I'm not exactly experienced with first person POV stories, so any constructive criticism would be much appreciated. Hell, criticism on anything would be appreciated. Anyway, here we go.

….

The thing I remember most is just… How fast it all happened. One minute I'm having the time of my life, racing bikes on the beach, and the next thing I know, my best friend is lying in my arms, bleeding from a bullet in his chest. Ben's green shirt was stained red, his eyes wide and wet with tears.

"M-mike…" he choked out, feebly reaching toward me. "H-help me…" I couldn't respond. My head was swimming, I couldn't think straight. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. Then the pirates fired. Bullets whined as they flew over my head, barely missing my blond hair.

I was sweating, panicking. I didn't know what to do. My hands were soaked with blood, and I couldn't tell if the water in my eyes was sweat or tears.

"Help…" Ben begged, his voice fading. A bullet struck my left ear, and I screamed. I clutched at the bloody wound, staining my hands even further. That's when I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I dropped my friend and ran as hard as I could, gripping what was left of my ear as bullets pounded the sand around me.

"Help me!" Ben screamed pitifully. His words cut deep, deeper than any wound I've had since. They would haunt me for the rest of my life. Part of me wanted to run back to him, to pick him up in my arms and run into the jungle. But the other part knew that I wouldn't make it ten feet with his extra weight.

And so I ran. I ran as hard and fast as possible, sobbing and bleeding on the dark green undergrowth. I scraped my knee on a branch, bloodying my jeans. Thorns scratched my shirt and arms, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was escape. The pirates shouted swearwords and threats, chasing me through the foliage. I couldn't outrun them, I realized. They knew the terrain, and I didn't. They'd just run me down until I dropped from exhaustion. I didn't want to think about what would happen after that.

"He's almost at the canyon!" a pirate shouted. A canyon. Maybe I could use that to escape. I sped up, my boots trampling the grass.

A minute later, I could see it in the distance. The canyon stretched from the overgrown cliff to the ocean, linked to the vast expanse by a stream of water. It was huge and deep, easily a hundred foot drop. I could see the water at the bottom. I could only hope it was deep enough. The edge came ever closer, and my will faltered.

Could I do this? I'd always been afraid of heights, and this jump was massive. I stopped at the edge, too scared to jump and paralyzed with fear. I desperately looked for a way out, but there was none to be found. Would I make the jump?

A bullet nearly taking off my other ear made the decision for me. Staying on the cliff was not an option. With eyes squeezed shut, I sprinted the last few feet and leaped into the air, holding onto some last desperate hope of survival.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. I was floating rather than falling. For a moment, I felt like a bird. Then reality hit me, and with it came fear as I thought that these might be my final moments. What if the water was only a foot deep? Opening my eyes just a little, I could see the dark blue liquid, but I couldn't tell how far down it went. I said a quick prayer and closed my eyes, holding my breath.

The impact nearly robbed me of oxygen. I felt like I'd been hit by a freight train. I barely managed to keep holding my breath, but I was alive, for now. I paddled weakly until I felt ground under my boots, and made it a couple feet before I collapsed on the sand.

….

It was dark when I woke up. For a moment I didn't open my eyes, hoping it was a dream, that Ben would be smiling when I got up, passing me a Pepsi and ready with a joke. Slowly I eased them open. A man in sunglasses and a green face mask jumped back from my body, his eyes wide behind the lenses.

"Holy shit, he's alive!" I got a better look at him now that he was a distance away. His shirt was bright red, with a faded white skull emblazoned on the front. He quickly swung his AK-47 out from behind his back and aimed it at me. I held up my hands in the classic gesture for, "I surrender!" The pirate jerked his head, and another man came from the other side, carrying a pistol and grinning, displaying his yellow teeth.

"Well what do we have here, huh?" he asked, touching my forehead with the tip of his gun. His breath reeked of smoke and alcohol. "Another fucking tourist? Bet we'd sell you for a nice bunch of cash." He motioned to Sunglasses. "Tie him up. We'll take this kid back to Vaas and see what he's got to say." He took out a communicator from his pocket and spoke into it for a minute, then put it away and nodded to his fellow pirate. "The boys have been told that we've got a fresh one. They'll be waiting at Pirate's Cove."

I began to panic again. Vaas? Who the hell was that? Whoever he was, I was damn sure I didn't want to meet him. My opinion didn't really matter at that point, though, and the pirates tied my hands behind my back and pushed me forward.

I don't really know how long we went like that, walking beside the road with Yellow Teeth's gun at my head and Sunglasses taking the lead. The rope dug into my wrists, and I could feel fresh blood staining the material. My feet ached, my ear burned with pain, and my throat was dry from lack of water.

I was beginning to lose hope when I heard gunfire and Sunglasses went down in front of me. Yellow Teeth freaked out when his buddy was gunned down, and he began to run past me, firing a few rounds from his pistol and screaming, "What the fuck?!"

I didn't think, I just acted. As soon as the pirate was in front of me, I swung my bound arms over my head and over his and pulled back, strangling him with the bloody rope. He struggled for a moment, choking and gasping for air, and then laid still, his body limp.

I was shaking, though from fear or adrenaline I wasn't sure. I looked down at my hands, still bloody from Ben's wound, and the now crimson rope that tied them together. It was frayed badly from use, and soaked in both my blood and the pirate's. I'd killed a man. That thought nearly brought me to my knees. I was in shock, unsure of what to do now. For a second I stood there, just staring down at Yellow Teeth's body.

The plants rustled on the left of the road, and I began to panic again. Frantically I tried to pick up the pirate's pistol, but I couldn't get my bound hands around it. My heart pounded, I could hear it beating in my ears. "Oh God, please don't let me die," I said quietly.

The rustling became louder, and I braced myself for the bullet I was sure was coming. I wouldn't look away, I decided. No, I would stare straight into my murderer's eyes, a last act of defiance before my life went out like a candle.

A man appeared at the side of the road, just outside the jungle. He seemed almost to step out from a tree, suddenly becoming visible. The man wasn't quite as tall as me, but solidly built with tattoos covering both his arms and most of his face, his skin the color of tree bark. He was dressed in a blue vest and white shorts, though he had no shoes on his calloused feet. He pointed an AK-47 at my chest, then saw the carnage around me and lowered it. He looked over both bodies, checking the bloody rope wound on Yellow Teeth's throat.

"Did you do this?" he asked in a strange accent, pointing at the pirate's corpse with his gun. I nodded, sure he was going to shoot me. Instead, he smiled. "Good job. One less of these damn pirates to deal with."

I was shocked. I killed a man, and this guy just walks out of the jungle like a freaking ghost, and says, "Good job." What the hell?

"What's your name?" he asked.

"I-it's Michael," I sputtered. "Michael Jasper's my name."

"Well, Michael, from your clothes, I'm guessing you're one of those American tourists. I take it these guys captured you?" I nodded. "Thought so. You should know that now that you've escaped, the pirates will be looking for you all over the island. They don't like their prizes escaping. But I've seen what you can do. Come with me; I can help you, teach you how to fight like a true Rakyat warrior. Here." He pulled a machete from his belt and cut the ropes keeping my hands together. Then he put the handle into my feeble grip. "Keep it. You're gonna need that."

"A warrior?" I asked in disbelief, looking over the weapon in my hands.

"Yes. It'll be difficult, but to survive here you'll have to be either a pirate or a Rakyat, and the pirate option's out. Besides, with my recommendation, the tribe should be a bit more accepting of you."

"A-alright, I guess," I managed to say. The man grinned.

"Perfect. Pick up that gun and follow me." He pointed at Yellow Teeth's pistol. I picked it off the ground and took the pirate's holster. I hooked it onto my belt and placed the gun inside, still holding the machete in my hand. The Rakyat nodded and motioned for me to follow. As I walked behind this strange man through the thick jungle, one question more than any other was on my mind.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

….

And there's the first chapter. Okay, so I am accepting OC's, but it's not gonna be a huge amount. Probably around ten to fifteen. Here's the form (I'll use my OC's character):

Name (first and last): Michael Jasper

Gender: Male.

Age: 19

Height/Weight: 6'3, 200 pounds.

Personality: Scared at first, but slowly builds his confidence and takes on bigger challenges. He's not a hardened killer, and the act gets his morals screwed up. However, if it's necessary, he'll do it.

Clothing: Black shirt, jeans, combat boots, and a belt.

Appearance (Physical description): Tall, a little on the muscular side. Not very physically attractive. Missing part of his left ear from a gunshot wound.

Equipment (Weapons, gear, etc.): A machete and a 1911 pistol.

Skills (Go easy on this one): Driving, hand-to-hand combat. He's a decent shot, but he's not great. Can't shoot a bow to save his life.

How they came to Rook: Was on vacation with his best friend when he was captured by pirates. He escaped, and with the help of the Rakyat, he managed to survive.

I think that's it. I might not have very fast updates, since this is my third story in progress. Anyway, later!