This fanfic is partly connected to the storyline of Call of Duty: Black Ops. Keep this in mind while reading the story, since some things from the story of BO1 are implemented in this story. If you don't care, then you're all set.
I do not own either LoK or COD: BO, but I do own the copyright for my OC.
But without further ado, enjoy the story and leave your thoughts in a review if you want to! Suggestions and reviews really help me out!
Chapter 1: Memory Blizzard
The blizzard is raging, yet I feel no rage. The temperature was -30 degrees Celsius, but to me, the cold didn't matter. This blizzard is not the worst thing that I experienced in my life, no no no no no. I embrace the cold, it is like an old friend to me. Sometimes, I don't even realise that I'm walking in snow and that the temperature is 30 degrees under zero, the cold is part of my life. I've seen the most cruel, foul things that a human can see, and not just once. I saw them almost every day, and that for SIX years. Six fucking years. Six years in which I rotted away, my emotions and feelings rotting along with it. Just thinking about it gives me flashbacks to that hellhole, the place where I became who I am today. I shrugged, letting go of the thoughts while I walked on in the endless snow landscape known as Siberia. From my position, you could find the first human five thousand kilometers away, which was just the way I liked it. I lost my social skills long ago, and therefore have no reason to interact with anything else besides nature. I roam the icy wastelands of Siberia for long periods of time with little food, conserving as much as possible.
I don't know what day, week, month or year it is, but that doesn't matter out here, in the cold. The only thing you need to know is if you are able to keep on going, which I am. So, I don't have any worries, just my body and my mind. Both scarred for the rest of my life, which could have ended multiple times when I was in the hellhole. That hellhole was Vorkuta. I ended up there when I was only twenty years old, just because I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was sent to that place for allegedly supporting an uprising against Mother Russia, yet I had zero involvement in the uprising. I was twenty years old, all I wanted to live life, and then life got duller and duller through the years in Vorkuta. After my escape, I was scarred for life, just wanting to walk in the snowy lands of Siberia. And so I did, and so I do now. I don't know how many years have passed, and I don't care. I still didn't see every part of Siberia, every snowflake and every blizzard, and until that job is done, my life still has some sort of meaning.
I snap out of my thoughts by a strange phenomenon, a thing I have never seen before in my life. There is a light in front of me, a bright blue light. The reason I find it special is because I don't see a source of the light: it just floats there. Suddenly, the light shines so bright, I need to cover my eyes before I become blind. Not that it would matter: my life would become easier, no more horrors I can see. However, my hand dissolves right in front of me! I look at it, seeing the skin, veins, bones and lots of other things disappear into the light. I don't know what is going on, and I don't care. I have seen enough cruel things in my life, and if it ends now, I have no regrets. My body parts, one by one, dissolved in the light, and my vision fades more every second I stand there. I don't fight it, I don't run. I embrace it and I allow it to take over my body. I stared death in the eyes many times, and now would be the time that he went in for the kill, the death stare. I feel relieved, and then everything turns black.
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Someone once told me: "The dead have paid their debts, and they can rest in peace. It is up to the living to pick up the tab." I didn't care back then. But now, it couldn't make more sense to me...
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My vision returns. My body returns. And suddenly, my eyes open and I feel a familiar feeling. Water. Ice cold water. I look up and I see the surface. For some reason I can look through it. I decide not to drown and I start to swim to the surface. When I'm close enough to it, I recognise the material: ice. With no time to waste, I start to punch it. The first few punches don't do anything to the ice, but after 5 punches or so, a small crack appears. This gives me courage, and I start to pick up the pace. Punch after punch, crack after crack. The ice is tough but I'm tougher. After I don't know how long, the ice breaks and I can finally breathe. I decide to expand my hole in the ice so that I can actually get out of the water and onto the ice. After I expanded the hole and I got out of the water, I let myself drop on the ice, looking at the sky. "Where am I?"
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