I could hear the chirping of birds echo over the sound of the river.
I was resting comfortably, like I hadn't in years. Water was dripping somewhere, but I ignored it. The drops slapped against the leaves, rolling down to the tip and hitting the ground. I could hear snoring elsewhere, and I ignored it as well. I shifted on my bed which was just two blankets; one underneath me to separate the dirt on the ground, the other on top to keep me warn. Didn't even had a pillow, used my arm instead.
A loud scream reverberated within the camp.
"Who the fuck builds something like this?" I heard the question come from one of my men. David, I think his name was. My eyes explored every inch of the massive hallway.
"The same kind of people who can put a ground in the fucking sky." Another one answered. The hallway was...massive. About the size of two football fields. But it wasn't the size of the hallway that grabbed our attention. It was the rows and rows of guns in it.
"Is that a fucking bazooka?" I looked at what the guy was pointing at. No, it wasn't a bazooka. It was a ROW of Bazookas. Plural. "Jesus Christ."
"Better than it was in New York, eh?"
"Anything is better ever since..." I knew why he paused. We all knew. We made a vow to clean it up, to burn it all away. But now... I have no fucking clue what happens now.
"What the fuck is this?" I heard someone shout. I looked for the source of the voice, and found one of my men...standing over a blob. A floating blob. A floating blob over a pedestal.
I walked over, boots hitting the ground in each step. I saw a panel attached to the pedestal, and it was projecting a goddamn hologram. I could see...
"What the hell?" I muttered. I interacted with some of the icons. all of a sudden, the blob began to shift into...
"Holy..." We gathered around the blob as it shifted into a familiar shape.
The sound of shifting goo, was mixed in with the sound of our primed flamethrowers, and the breathing through our gasmasks. The Dollar Flu destroyed our lives, our families, our world.
The blob took on arms and legs.
Guess the Cleaners will have to try and make a new one here.
A cleaner's masked head burst into brain splatter, and he fell from the ledge after letting go of the turret.
I reloaded my rifle, and took aim. Cleaners, What a fucking stupid name.
Another shot, flamethrower tank bursts.
What? The Pyromaniacs or The Purgers already taken? You had to take the name from the janitors of your vault?
Bang, flying car falls from the sky.
Red Lights burst from the forest underneath, striking the enemy stronghold. Armored cars were melted, bodies parts ironically burned clean off and reduced to ash. Men were screaming through their gas masks, clutching their stumps, only to fall silent after losing their heads.
"Ad Victoriam!" Heavily armored men poured from the forest, as well as medium and light armored orange and brown men. That would be the knights, fucking BoS.
I pulled my rifle behind my back, turned off the visor on my ranger helmet, and climbed down the tree.
"FUCKING NAZI PIZ'DA!(CUNT)" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I stabbed him in the eyeball, blood streaking down his face, him screaming.
It took us 5 minutes to get over the fact that we could breath air on the surface and that we were in a forest. It took us 3 minutes to realize there was a ground in the sky. It took 4 seconds to realize that the nazis and commies were here as well.
A bullet whizzed by above me.
I rolled off of him to side and on the ground. I pulled my rifle up, took aim at the cover of the nazis, and opened fire. Bullets rained on to them and so they took cover, behind the standing tree trunks.
A heavy trooper appeared, and I took cover when he unleashed a torrent of fire from his mini gun. I sat down, back against the rock, dead nazi in front of me, another live one on the other side of the rock. I looked to my side to see my Polis ranger comrades, taking cover from the heavy as well. Beyond them, I could see the Commie Piz'da taking cover in their hiding spot, shooting at the heavy as well.
The mini gun fire stopped all of a sudden, and was the replaced with the sound of screaming and goring.
I peaked out of my cover and saw...
I pulled out my automatic and pulled the trigger, screaming, and not once letting go even as it closed in on all fours.
"Go! Go! Go!" I heard my squad leader shout. We began to advance, cover to cover, shooting at our enemies.
Trees were set on fire, so we avoided them. I shot a cleaner on the chest and shoulder, and he fell to the ground.
Rikers were brutal, and numerous. They would surround helpless agents and citizens alike, and beat them to death.
I shot a Riker in the legs, making him clutch them in pain without putting him out of his misery.
Cleaners were terrifying, and well equipped. Whatever they came across, they burned.
I shot the napalm tank of an incinerator, causing it to burst and send him covered in flames.
And the fucking last men, executing our agents like we're criminals, dogs to be put down.
A LMB medic was dragging a wounded soldier away, but I took the opportunity to splatter his brains out of his helmet.
And all of them, ALL OF THEM, were here. Working together. Can you fucking believe that? In New York they practically ATE each other. Food chain and all.
A red beam shot out and hit an LMB straight in the upper torso, burning it clean off.
But we? we ATE ALL OF THEM. The top of the food chain. We're the Division, we're the good guys. The guys meant to bring back civilization. You? you are the SAVAGES. The bad fucking animal that has to be put down.
Metal feet clanged on the ground and ran by.
And these 'MBR' or 'Brotherhood' or 'Nomia' fuckwads are the same. The only reason they're helping us is because they don't want you in charge of this big fucking tower...
I looked across the lake. A massive pointed tower was sprung out of a small island in the middle, its surface black and monolithic.
My eyes flew open, and I got up from my makeshift bed, revolver in hand. The others in the tents around me did the same. We all stood silently, on watch, Rifles, pistols, and bows in hand.
I looked to him, his 'Lucille' in his belt, a rifle in his arms. He saw me, and nodded me go back. The whole camp began to form defensive circles, each facing out with their weapons.
Then I saw some rustling. We took aim. One of Negan's men came running out. He saw us.
"RUNNNNNRGH!" He was interrupted when the fucking monster slammed its sledgehammer down his head, basically replacing his head with the hammer.
"MUTIES!" The Camp erupted in panicked screams.
A/N: New story I have begun to work on. Trying to make this smaller and more realistic than the last one. Please Review, I want to know if this is going in the right direction.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Orion's Arm world building project (oops. Spoiler) or The Division, fallout, Metro 2033, and The Walking Dead.