A Realistic Story of a Marine
Note: Even though it is fun to read happy stories when the main character, who most of the time is a marine or a SPARTAN, survive the whole story, but I made a realistic story.
Fred aimed his SMG at an unsheilded jackal, running for cover. He fired and killed it. Another kill. Throughout his military life, he saw comrades die, and covenant die. He was hiding behind a large stone, taking cover in a forest. He got up and scanned the dense forest, looking for a target. He saw a brute, aiming at a fellow marine.
"Die bastard!" he yelled, firing.
The bullets stuck into the tough hide of the brute, and drew only a small amount of blood. The brute roared and fired an explosive round at Fred. The round exploded, and a small piece of shrapnel hit Fred's right arm. He yelled in pain, calling for help. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to lessen. No one came to his aid, but the pain stopped. He slowly and painfully pulled the small piece of metal out of his arm, and tossed it at the ground. Lots of blood was flowing down his arm. Fred got up and painfully fired at the brute. He killed it, luckily because it was wounded by someone else. Suddenly pain seared to the left side of his body. He yelped in shock and pain, and rolled on the rocky and leafy floor, yelling. He found out he was hit by plasma fire by a jackal. He kept on yelling and cursing, until he stopped rolling. The pain left him, and he felt cold. His blood was rushing to his organs. He felt a swelling inside his lungs and heart, and a second later, he died. His rotten body was buried in the mud and pieces of his flesh were eaten by the forest animals. There was no honorable resting place for him.