Charlie: Yo. This is my first time writing a halo fic, so yeah, don't be surprised if it sucks. But, it's a funny fic...based on my experiences in umm...not so good online Halo servers.

Erk: Yeah, because you sucked up the place.

Charlie: No...because the damn newbies don't even know how to shoot a rifle, that's what.

Erk: ...Sure.

Charlie: Shut up. Anyways, this is based on actual games, but I've embellished a bit and added a few made up characters and put in a "plot" to make it interesting. So enjoy.

Erk: And he does not own Halo...whatever the hell that is.

Charlie: ...I gotta get a Halo-based muse.

Blood Gulch. A boxed canyon with two bases at each end. Not much to see other than rocks and dirt. However, epic battles occur between two opposing forces daily in a civil war so horrible, so bloody, few soldiers dare even mutter the words "Blood Gulch." In this canyon, the Blue team fights for dominance over the opposing Reds. This...is their story.

Private Johnson was one of the eight recruits sent to Blood Gulch to complete military training. He, and all of his comrades, have heard of Blood Gulch's notorious reputation. A reputation for deadly battles, crack mercenaries, and a bewitching drill sargent. As with all new recruits, Johnson was very nervous, so he tried to calm his nerves by chatting lightly with his fellow privates.

"Hey Smith, how long are you here for?" He asked a tall, powerfully built man next to him.

"Six months, you?" Private Smith repiled.

"Eight," Johnson said dejectedly. "But I hear that the drill sargent here is hot."

Smith looked bewilderdly at him. "From who?! No one's come out of this place alive for the past seven months!"

Johnson gulped. It was true. For seven months in a row, every contingent of recruits sent to Blood Gulch were wiped out systematically. Johnson had only heard about the beautiful drill sargent through a rumor.

"I had a brother here eight months ago." Johnson lied.

"Ahh, he was lucky," Smith said. "But I wonder why the drill sargent's a girl-"

Just then a sharp voice cut into their conversation.

"You got a problem with that private?!"

Both men immediately turned around face flushed and began stammering like fools.

"Er yes, I mean no sir... I mean sarge...er I mean...no ma'am!" Both men babbled.

The female drill sargent narrowed her eyes and glared down at the two men. "Okay, you two can think about that while doing push-ups, all 50 of them. And I don't want to see any sissy girly pushups." She barked.

The two men immediately flushed and dropped to the floor to begin their push ups.

The sargent then left the two men and stepped towards the middle of the group of recruits, surveying them closely. The privates all looked at her nerviously. She was indeed very beautiful, but her eyes burned with a cold fire.

"Okay, does anyone ELSE have any objections to the leadership?"

Every last man shook his head.

"Are you guys dumb or something?" The sargent barked. "Speak up!

"N-no ma'am." The privates squeaked.

The sargent sighed. "Wimps..." she muttered. "Charlie, take roll and get them to bed." She snapped before turning on her heels and walking back into the base.

It was then that the privates noticed the man trailing the sargent. He took out a notepad and begin calling out names. After each name was called out. Charlie tucked his clipboard under his arm and gathered the privates, including the now out of breath Johnson and Smith.

"Okay men. I'm not going to kid you or anything. This place is hell redefined. One wrong step, and you'll be dead."

The privates looked grimly at each other. If what the man said was true, then there was a good chance one of them would be dead by tomorrow.

"Okay, now for the formalities. I am Corporal Charlie, and the sargent here is named Emily, but be warned, don't call her by her first name unless you want to die. You will address her by her rank or 'ma'am' at all times. Wake up time is at 5 A.M. sharp..."

As the corporal's instructions droned on, Johnson looked across the wasteland towards the other side. He knew that somewhere out there, the vicious reds lurked, ready to kill any unsuspecting blues. Johnson gluped and turned back just in time to see everyone walk into the base. He quickly ran in with them; he did not want to be the only one left outside during the night.

--

Just as Charlie led the blue privates into the blue base, a lone red sniper stood on a cliff, surveying the new privates through his sniper scope.

"Yes," he muttered. "Fresh meat!"

The sniper smiled to himself. To him, new blue recruits equaled a higher body count for him. He watched as the recruits followed Charlie into the base, all except for one daydreamer. He resisted the urge to kill the young man. After all, it was his first day. The sniper knew of Emily's notorious training methods, and he couldn't kill a private without having him go through that torture.

The sniper then tucked his rifle under his arm and headed back to base. Tomorrow, the REAL fun begins.

Charlie: Whoo hoo, I'm done!

Erk: WHO ARE ALL THESE PEOPLE?!

Charlie: Umm, Patric would be better known to you guys as PMOH Winters. He just wanted to cause pain and suffering. Emily is sorta based off my Section leader...but she's not quite as cruel in real life. I'm me. The rest are just made up noobs.

Erk: AHHH!! -faints-

Charlie: sigh...I lose more muses that way. Oh well, R&R please!