Obviously I do not own this, so keep it out of your heads that I do. Got it? excellent, now enjoy this story, which happens to be my first.
The air was filled with fire.
Fire that consumed all, with either its hands of smoke or its all-encompassing grip of flame, it consumed the moor. The moor had once been another dried up lake in eastern Ukraine, with snow, grass and a few trees here and there. That was no more.
Fire consumed the moor.
The voices of screaming soldiers, and the battle calls of the monstrosities were heard all across the deserted plain, joining together in a never-ending cacophony of blood. The dead lied at all angles, either forgotten or used as cover for the exchange of bullets and greenish energy blasts. Some of the monstrosities even ate the bodies for sustenance. Even the humans did; there was nothing left except the rotting meat of their friends.
She ran across the gory dance between man and monster and aimed her assault rifle at another thing, another of the monsters. They were always the same, with their olive skin, and archaic armor. They had once been human; all of them, in another life; but that was no more. They now wandered the earth looking for the immortal souls of men to give to their master and the mortal bodies of men for their food. So it had been for 10,000 years and so it is today. They had come, and refused to be stopped.
At least that's what they wanted you to think. Deep down the creatures had a latent intelligence that almost, if you observed them, seemed to make them smarter than us. Or maybe not. It didn't matter anyhow, there was no way to compromise with them, not that she wanted to; the monsters had torn each of the friends she had with her to shreds, feasting on their meat and taking their souls for themselves. It was disgusting, it was horrible, but it as many of these things are, it was indeed a fact.
She turned to the monster and unloaded another burst into its face. The face on these things was the most vulnerable spot: the torsos were wrapped up in armor and the arms and leg injuries were disregarded as fodder. No, you had to shoot the face; it was the only way. She watched the thing drop in front of her before eyeing another one take her into its attention. 'Same old same old' she thought to herself, inwardly sighing at the repetitiveness of the act. But they had to do it. They had to kill the things so they couldn't advance any farther into Europe and destroy everything those people had built. It was just…..boring as fuck.
She watched the lumbering monstrosity ready a blast of the green energy she had seen so many times before, and had seen kill her friends so many times before that. It let the blast loose into her face, and with a scream that was about as inhuman that screams could get, charged at her, its pace nipping on the heels of the blast itself.
She rolled to the side and watched the energy turn the body of the thing she had just killed into dust. Flaming, stinking, vomit inducing dust. She raised her gun into the offending monsters face and let loose a burst of ammo. The thing seemed to be genuinely surprised when it connected and tore its face to shreds. It even held its wrist scythe up to defend itself after the bullets hit. There was nothing it could do to change the fact.
She dove behind a group of rocks and pulled a syringe from her hip pack. They all had to take them if they were to survive, and she did just that, injecting the stimulant into her thigh for what seemed the millionth time that week. Day in and day out it was no different. Wake up in barracks, get shipped out to yet another battlefield, and shoot yourself up with drugs all day so that you could shoot up an army of monsters that seemed to come right out of a horror novel.
Finishing that, she crushed the now useless syringe beneath her boot, and took a second to take in the scene around her. It was carnage, complete bloody carnage. The piles of bodies had grown so thick that human and monster simply fought on a ground made of their dead, separate in battle but all made equal in the end.
A roar of challenge caused her to whip around in shock. A rather large one of the things stood on the very outcropping that she had hidden behind not moments earlier, its eyes glowing red, that damn hexagram on its forehead. 'Just like all of the others' she thought sadly. It jumped out at her, its speed and agility surprising. It shouldn't be like that; it should be slow and clumsy. But it was. She had by now learned not to be surprised by the ability and agility of the Orichalchos Soldiers.
She brought her gun up to defend against it, but it had her number; it dug its blade into her guns side and continued to use its muscles to cut the thing in half. She stumbled back, bewildered. 'This one is stronger than the others.' She thought 'it did that like a hot knife would cut butter.' Her musings were cut short, however when it reached for her, its hand glowing with the same sick energy they all possessed, the power of the Orichalchos stone. She rolled to the left and brought her hidden knife into its unarmored side, wounding it. But it wasn't enough. The thing backhanded her with its blade sending her flying with its strength.
She heard someone cry her name, but didn't bother to respond, the distraction would get her killed. She instead chose to do the logical thing at that point; lob a grenade at the fucker. That would show whoever replaced him that they were still willing to fight, that they were still willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that her fathers ideal of destruction never came to pass.
A voice squawked in her ear " All units fall back and brace for airstrike." The voice as always was crisp calm and uncaring. They all had to be like that; radio controllers couldn't show any favoritism for a single battalion, for after all, what does a bishop care of the life of a pawn? Exactly.
But she couldn't back down now. She had to kill this one more, so that it couldn't kill her, or her comrades anymore. She looked up at the thing lumbering towards her, and threw the grenade at it.
Much to her dismay the thing swatted it out of the air like it was nothing, like it was a fly, and kept coming. She growled and drew a machete from her pack. The sharp sword would give her an edge against it, but not much of one. The thing swung its wrist scythe at her, and she was again reminded of the resemblance it bore to a Duel Disk: it looked just like one, down to the five slots for cards. But not everything could be solved by a children's card game, in fact it was a wonder that as one such as Duel Monsters has solved as much as it has in the past, most of the time by people she knew, or rather once had.
The thing struck at her again, breaking her reverie, and knocked the machete from her hands. Now she had nothing, and could only stare as it raised the blade, preparing to deliver the deathblow. Its eyes flashed and it moved the angle of its wrist. It had orders from its master; it was going to torture her first. The thing gripped her fragile, small body with its free hand and brought the blade down into the right side of her face, cleaving into her skull, and cutting her jawbone in two, blood spurting from the gristly wound. Before she could register what happened. it spun her around and dug the pointed front of the blade into her back. She gasped as she was thrown to the ground like trash, and felt like so. She had let her friends, her adopted father and more importantly her quest to end this menace down. Her vision grew red as her uninjured eye filled with blood. And the last sensation that went into Chris Mackenzie's body as she faded into nothingness was a warm human hand pulling her up, and the sound of the jets, as they turned the moor into the fiery hell it was.
Well then, wasn't that fun? more to come, and expect heavy development of this character, who isn't dead, btw.