WRITER'S NOTE: This story will be considered an AU due to the fact that I have not played the original StarCraft or Brood Wars games in roughly ten years and counting. I will include OCs and ideas regarding StarCraft Units that I find both creative and relevant to the plot. I have never played any StarCraft game beyond those two so any and all plot twists, information, or StarCraft Units, Characters, or Personnel will not be included in this story. Enjoy the fanfiction for what it is as a fanfiction! Feel free to review and donate any StarCraft info to me through PM that I may or may not choose to include as the story unfolds. Thank you! Here is Ben's story...
Crawling
AliZoe
AliZoe (c) 2014
Prologue
The Voices
They wouldn't stop...the voices…
Inside his head, he kept hearing them whisper like a droning monologue that never made any sense. It was all gibberish that drove him insane! The different syllables and sounds blotted out any rational thought processes. The lockdown was necessary for protection...from himself...and for everyone else.
All of the finest doctors and examiners that the Terran could offer could not explain the phenomenon. Yes, he had psychic tendencies because he was a Ghost, but this was beyond those capacities. He was alone in his white cell as a product of one mistake on the battlefield against the Zerg.
As a Ghost, he was in charge of a stealth assassin of the Zerg Queen that would undoubtedly infest their struggling Command Center. With the cloak at full blast, he strutted to the Zerg's secondary base, no Overlord or Spore Colony to detect him in sight, the plan set in stone to make the kill. As always, he liked everything over-the-top. If his command was to kill, he would destroy. A nuke would do the trick. His concentration trickled to the side where a Lurker lay dormant as if it watched his every move. His armor already weaker than the average Marine, he took care to slowly stalk to the other side of the Hatchery so as not to, for some unknown reason, disclose his location. His extreme arrogance led his fixed gaze to the one looming misstep that initiated the erratic clamor. A small slip into the pool of green deviated all the priorities he had in mind.
Screeching from the sudden exposure to that memory caused an episode. "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" he bashed the padded walls to no avail.
"Private Quarensen, do you need another injection?" a voice from the intercom buzzed monotonically.
"GIVE IT TO ME!" he panted, the sweat drenching his monochromatic clothing to a sticky stench. "J-just...just give it to me…make them stop…" A robotic arm pulled out from the ceiling, the needle slowly ejecting itself. Puncturing his skin, the liquid oozed into his bloodstream, instantly numbing his senses. The room blurred into a drunken gaze of white. The lights flickered off as he hit the floor. "Just...make...them...stop…" The blackness set in as he shut his bloodshot eyes.