A/N: I know, I know, boring introducing chapter! This is just to explain the basics, we'll get down to better business later on as we introduce the other team mates, the

plot, etc. etc. This story will not focus on just ONE character, but we'll be looking at most of them. Scout, however, will be the main character towards the whole story, so this will all be undecided as I continue writing this up.

However, all I ask is for you to enjoy my writing!

...

It felt as if I was falling.. Falling... Falling... Into the darkness. The abyss as you'd call it. I've had this nightmare ever since I was a child, crying alone in my sleep as I sunk into the void, my life being grasped by a curved hand-

"You alright, tiny man?" Came a deep, questionable voice beside me.

This made me jump like crazy, having a small spaz in my position, as I tried shaking off the pratically giant hand off my shoulder! For a second, a giant spider appeared in my dreams.. Eugh, Spiders..

But he took his hand off me as I pratically spazzed, loud pants coming out of my wind pipe as I sat, shaking on the chair.. Before realising where I really was. Oh, right.

"C-CHRIST! ..W..What was that for!?" I managed out between my wheezing, resting my hands back down on the couch.

Then I realized who I was TALKING to. It was the man I saw as I boarded the train earlier this morning, he was sat next to a bag.. And when I mean bag, It was fucking HUGE. Y'could stuff dead bodies in that said bag, atleast half a bleedin' dozen!

Anyway, the man.. He was built like a tank, a large five'o clock shave covering his chin, an angry glare that could probably stop bullets in their track.. Hell, his gut might literally do that! Y'could say he was like a bear.. A big shaved one at that.

"I-I-I mean.. Uh.. T..Thanks for that.." I said in an intimidated voice, backing away and shrinking towards the couch, God, he scares me. Seriously, I wouldn't like to get on his bad side, just from looking at his glare feels like he's already punched me in the gut.

"...Good." He simply retorted in a gruff voice, staring out the window that was ahead of us, telephone poles and wires passing by the train they were both sitting on..

Guess I'm gonna have to clear this up, aren't I?

My name's Kevin, Kevin Richards. Not unique for a name, huh? Well, It's me, okay? Let's roll on from that. Woo!
Anyway, the reason I'm on the train? Right, See I got this letter, slid in under my door. It was all tatty 'n shit, so I was wondering 'Huh, did they get the right flat?' Cut it open with a small knife, and an old odor of damp, toilet smell wafted from the letter, God it was horrible. My Ma would've puked if she'd gotten the letter instead, as she's usually up first to get the letters, but luckily I was able to afford my own flat in Boston to get some piece an' quiet a few blocks down.

Cause trust me, living with a bunch of siblings not the right idea for proper relaxation after a short time at collage. (Got slung for bangin' up this dude's face. He fucking deserved it in all honest oppinion.)

Anyway, matter at hand before I start draftin' off again, I stared at the letter, It was kinda hard to read cause the printed font was fading away on the tatty piece of yellow paper, but I could clearly make out what it said.

It was a job offerin' and by hell, the pay looked damn good too. It was to an organization that was named 'Reliable Excavation Demolition'. Or RED for short. Huh, could swear there was a resemblance in the name.. Meh, I'd probably figure it out later.

But aside from the pay (Which to be honest, could really support me and m' family if I moved back in, Ma could really use the support with some of the other lads and the house, trust me, my bro's would not support themselves. Trust me, may be honest, thick as bricks. Or books. Whatever.) was what was written down at the bottom. I could swear it said 'Bring a Gun' in small, bold thick letters. After scanning over it once again, I figured what kind of job it was. It was offering me a place on a team. A small label on the side of the paper, labeled in white sticky tape, said 'SCOUT'. Presuming, they might be looking for some Scout of sort. Boy Scout? With a gun? No, can't be.

Though, now that I'm all geared up, on a train with nothing but the bag on my back containing a gun provided by the said company (Turns out to be one of those new Scatterguns that are being promoted everywhere, freaking expensive, but hell, it feels nice in my hands. Could get used to it.) some clothes, and my trusty baseball bat, the Sandman. I've had this baseball bat ever since we stole it from some bastard back in high-school, used it to crack his head open behind the alleyways with my bros.

And ever since then, the crack near the end on the bat kept it like a huge reminder and treasured memory, my first ever kill..

God, I'm droning on again, ain't I? Sitting alone next to a huge Russian bear, watching the day slowly pass by my sapphire glinted eyes, a look of energy being drained from my soul all over the floor.. I just wanted to spring up and smash a ball through the window infront of me, the boredom was building anger inside of my mind.. God, I seriously hate being bored!

An hour later, we were informed of our destination and how we would be getting their soon, though I didn't get catch of where I was exactly going, I heard the word 'Fort'.

So it was true, then. I was literally being taken into war. What if I died on the first stroke? Walk right into the battlefield and just get struck down by an opposing force, sniper even. This dreaded my mind as I shuddered, thinking about different thoughts for the time being.

"..Um.. You alright, sir?" Came a voice next to me. I had completely forgotten that a new passanger came on board from a stop like a quarter of an hour ago. I took a quick glance at him... A brown comb over style of hair, showing that he was obviously well kept, compared to that Russian man from the other direction, a pair of circle shaped glasses hanging over his eyes, and a simple, vest and slate colored tie drooping off his neck.

"Ah.. I take it you've been offered zhis same contract, ja?" He said in a clear, German accent. Hey, atleast he was giving this language a go, eh?

"Yeah, Pretty much am. Didn't get much time to prepare, so I literally came with what I got slung over m'shoulders." I said with a hint towards the black bag that was still hanging off my right shoulder, eyeing the German man's own brown suitcase, looking like it was full to the brim with whatever.. He had in there, so to speak.

"Hahah, Ja ja.. I understand zat you mean, Herr..?" He said with a trailing off tone of voice.. Took me a clear five seconds to realise what he was asking for, my name.

"Er.. Kevin. Kevin Richards;" I said with a raise of a hand, offering it towards the man. I'm not used to formal meetings and the like, I'll give you that.

With a quick smile, nod and raise of his own hand, he took my hand with delight, shaking it with a firm, polite attitude. "Klaus Henderman at your service, meine freunde." He said with that distinctive German accent. I thought it wasn't a error with my ear.. I decided not to ask about it, however.

Though before we could get to introduce ourselves further, the announcer over the speaker announced that we had arrived at our destination. We were completely oblivious to the fact that the train was squealing to a stop. The Russian man stumbled from his own sleep, noticing that we had arrived first and picked up his massive, bulging bag and slung it over his own shoulder, the gruff, tired expression still being carried on from earlier. Everytime I look at his face, seriously. I shudder!

Behind him, we both picked up our stuff and headed out.. Looks like this is where it all begins, eh?