It was midday on the snowy plains. The sun shone down brightly onto the icy region, large expanses of white, dotted with hints of browns stretching as far as the eye could see. Small hills, cliffs and ridges dotting the landscape, disappearing into the distance. The formations broke up the otherwise flat desert of snow. The air was still, exuding an air of tranquillity. The only sounds in the air were a panting dog, the occasional gunshot, and the dull whir of a helicopter tearing through the open skies.
Across that icy expanse, ran a Chevian breed, a mixture of black and white, not too different from its primal wolf ancestors. A malamute. Panting as it ran, the malamute seemed to be heading for no particular destination. There was seemingly nothing for miles around. Just white, and more white.
Crack!
A loud booming sound rang out across the ice, as a bullet from the helicopter launched itself next to the dog. Seemingly unfazed at the sound and its near death experience, it kept moving, away from its pursuer. Its movements did not change, it didn't change course. It just kept running.
Crack! Bang!
More shots, one barely missing the dog's side rang out once more. This time, the dog did react, but not to the bullet. It paused, if only for half a second, to briefly stare into the distance. Across the white, past the cliffs and the hills, the dog had seen something. Changing its course slightly, the dog began to move again, this time faster than the.
Bang! Shhht! Crack!
Up in the helicopter, the pilot watched his companion barely miss his target. He hoped that his flying wasn't messing with the shot too much. He briefly spared his companion a glance. Both men were decked in full winter gear, parkas over their heads, snow goggles on, all gloved up to brave the wilds.
Crack!
His companion let off another shot. Looking down, the pilot noticed the dog stop. The helicopter briefly paused along with the canine, before setting off again and following.
Crack!
The gunner took a brief pause to reload, sparing a glance at his pilot companion. He saw the air of focus he exuded, and determination grew within himself. He took aim once more. Aiming down the sights and through his goggles, the he lined up the target, and began to fire once more.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
More misses. The gunner briefly puts the rifle down and looks through his binoculars. The helicopter's pause made him look forward this time, instead of their target. And that's when he saw it. A series of structures, barely poking above the horizon. Oddly shaped, he took a moment to process that he wasn't looking at a ridge or hill.
He was looking at buildings. Another camp, much like the one he had just come from.
He realised he had to pick up the pace. If that dog got to whatever outpost it was headed, it could spell disaster.
He put the binoculars down, and took aim once again.
Hoping.
Praying that wherever they were headed, that they'd be listened to.
The large cluster of buildings was, in fact, Outpost 31. The camp itself was relatively large, made of one central structure serving as a main hub, with various storerooms and snowcats scattered around, and even a helicopter to get people in and out of the camp as necessary.
The day was peaceful, the inhabitants mulling about in their respective locations, performing their duties.
Out from the shack stepped a man with unkempt white hair. He was wearing light brown parka but had it unzipped, leaving his white inner jacket exposed to the elements, coupled with a pair of jeans and standard-issue snow boots. He wore a pair of goggles around his neck, and a dark tinted pair of sunglasses over his eyes. He stepped out and locked the door, keeping a tight grip on the whiskey bottle in his left hand. Taking a swig after hearing the tell-tale click of the lock, he turned to survey the camp.
His gaze lingered on one of the snowcats closest to his shack.
"Is it worth going out now?" he contemplated. "No, I'll wait until the snow dies down. It'll just undo all my work anyway"
Satisfied with his decision, he began to head down the stairs from his raised sanctuary back to the cluster of buildings in the centre. He took a few steps down, hearing the soft crunch of fresh snow under his feet, and took another sip from his bottle.
Corrin's ears perked up at a strange sound in the distance. He looked up from the whiskey, and saw something that, for the base, would seem normal. A helicopter, flying towards the camp.
"Strange. I don't remember anyone making a call for a helicopter" he mused. "Why would one be coming here?
Corrin racked his brain for any reasons he could find, but every time, he came up blank. No need for supplies, no calls were made, nothing.
As Corrin thought, other members of the camp saw the incoming chopper, and had come out into the snow themselves. Corrin glanced down, noticing the tell-tale grey of Jakob's coat, and Benny's bulkier figure. There were more people down there, but Corrin wasn't paying them much mind, his attention brought back to the incoming vehicle. Now that it was closer, Corrin could see the odd colouring. While the helicopters associated with the Nohrian sites were a dull grey or khaki, this one was red.
"Red? What bases use red?" He asked himself as he continued down the steps.
Now on ground level, Corrin could see that more people had come outside. From his position, he could see that Xander, Silas, Leo and Keaton were missing.
"Guess word hasn't spread yet" he mused.
Looking left, he saw his companions were just as confused as he was.
"Any idea what it is?" He asked no one in particular.
"No clue" replied Kaze. The green haired man stood with his arms crossed, grey parka all buttoned up, with his signature purple scarf fluttering in the wind. Standing a head taller than Corrin, he was the base's resident meteorologist, who would usually spend his time doing research on the weather surrounding the base, before socializing with the group. "Xander's got Silas trying to flag them down. But it seems like there's been no luck so far"
Corrin hummed, puzzled. Xander not knowing anything about these new guests smelled of trouble. But Xander wasn't here to tell them what was wrong.
He turned to Odin, standing to his right, the eccentric blonde picking at his sleeves.
"Where's Leo? You were working with him today, right?" He asked.
Odin nodded in response. Like Corrin, Odin had left his jacket unzipped, showing off the black shirt he wore underneath. How he was able to wear something so thin and not freeze was anybody's guess. Taking his hand away from the sleeve, Odin began his usual run of theatrics.
"Sir Leo is still inside working on his invaluable research." Odin spoke with a dramatic flair, his hand extending out to vaguely point towards where the lab would be. "It just so happened that I had to be out of the room at the time, and saw some of my other companions staring at something. I thought I'd come out to join"
"Has he asked for anything recently? Anything that would require a helicopter?" Corrin asked.
From behind them, Benny spoke up.
"Neither of us have" the medic interjected. His imposing frame towered over the duo, but they knew better than to be intimidated. Benny was the station's medical officer, and had a heart of gold behind the constant scowl and muscular build. "I haven't needed anything for a while, and to my knowledge, neither has Leo"
The trio shared a glance, and turned their attention to the helicopter. Now closer, Corrin could see another shape moving with it. A smaller black dot was traveling across the plains in front of the chopper, seemingly running away from it.
"Is that-"Corrin began.
"A dog" Jakob finished.
The silver-haired man was around the same height as Corrin, standing straight and proud. His grey jacket zipped up and kept immaculate, Jakob was the resident mechanic, and considered to be "the most stuck up guy" on camp, at least according to Corrin. His hair tied back into a ponytail, his boots and pants kept in immaculate condition, it could be seen that Jakob took great care in his presentation and stance. But for now, Corrin pushes those thoughts aside, more worried about the canine heading towards their base.
"Why is it running?" He continued "And more importantly, why is it running from that chopper?"
As the rest of the group continued to stare, Corrin began to contemplate.
"Guess we'll have to wait and see what this is all about."
Hey guys, thought I'd make this since it's been on my mind for a while.
I'm a massive fan of the 1982 film The Thing, and decided that I would make a fanfiction but with Fire Emblem characters instead. Because I'm unoriginal. The overall theme of how The Thing and its Assimilation works is the same, as is the overall story, but some things are a little bit different. If you've seen the original film, you'll notice that there are more characters interacting outside than there were in the original. Keep your eye out for that in the future.
To anyone who hasn't watched the film, I highly recommend you do. It's a cult classic horror film that was panned early in its runtime, but became extremely popular later.
This fic'll update as I do it. Might be quick, might be slow. I dunno. This is one project that I don't want to drop, however.
For a quick rundown of the setting and characters (and their replacements, since I'm not really going to delve into people's pasts):
Corrin plays as MacReady, the base's pilot, and the main protagonist of the story.
Leo plays as Blair, the station's biologist.
Odin plays as Fuchs, Leo's lab assistant.
Silas plays as Windows, the communications officer.
Keaton plays as Clark, the dog handler.
Niles plays as Nauls, the chef.
Jakob plays as Childs, the station mechanic.
Kaze plays as Bennings, the station's meteorologist.
Benny plays as Copper, the station medic.
Arthur plays as Norris, the station's geologist.
Laslow plays as Parmer, the assistant mechanic and back-up pilot.
and lastly, Xander plays as Gary, the station manager.
Don't worry about everyone not getting a set in the limelight, that'll come later.
Don't forget to leave a rate and review (or whatever calls it)
Give me some critiques/pointers, I'd love to hear em!