Awakening Chapter One/Prologue
6/27/2015 This is a story idea that I came up with a few weeks ago. If you see any grammatical errors, feel free to tell me about it in the reviews or by messaging me. Thanks. Also, I should update a new chapter every week.
A wise man once said "War, war never changes". Wars are driven by greed, necessity, stupidity, or fear and even after the cities have been burnt to cinders and the countryside irradiated, war will never change. The biggest war humankind has ever seen began in 2031. Almost every single country was fighting for total control, making alliances and enemies, and those that didn't were destroyed. Now, there are only two armies fighting; NATO and PFR.
The North Atlantic Treaty Organization is made of up countries in North America and Europe, while People's Free Republic is made up of a random assortment of countries. NATO is fighting to keep the same laws that they had, while PFR wants everyone to be their own lawmaker. If one would travel to any PFR country they would be mugged, kidnapped, killed, or worse. NATO isn't much better though. Most people over 25 are in the army, so there isn't many police officers. This war was the also the worst because of all the genetically-modified super soldiers, numbering in the millions, that fight. I'm one of these, in fact I am the first successful super soldier and all the others are based off of me. Genetic modification started during World War 2, by the Germans. Almost all of the test subjects died right off the bat and those that didn't had less than 10 year life spans. The U.S and Canada created a program called "M.G.M." which stood for "Militarization of Genetic Modification". Their first success was in 2016. They created a dog that was 10 times stronger and smarter than regular dogs. I was created in 2017 and it's 2046 now, which makes me 29.
I had a semi-normal life until I was 6, having the intelligence of a 14 year old and strength of a bodybuilder at 5 didn't help either, when NATO took me in for training. I then spent the next 13 years training in the arts of war. I was 19 when I graduated the Academy of War, youngest ever to do so. I did so well that I was drafted into one of the best units, Tempest, in the army. By the time I was 23 I was the First Lieutenant of my unit. I had 47 successful missions out of 48 total missions. I was given a black op mission to take out a General from the PFR in the Philippines.. Black ops were the hardest missions. You had no reinforcements if you were overwhelmed, no medevacs if someone got shot, no communications to NATO Command if things went south. My name is Chris "Arma" Mortem. An this is where my story begins.
A raging storm was going on in the Luzon rainforest. In the western part of the forest a large compound was being built. Armed soldiers were everywhere, scurrying about like an ant colony. In the compound's command centre stood General Macintyre of the People's Free Republic. Macintyre was looking over invasion plans of New York City. The plan was to send out a force of three-hundred soldiers to take down the Wall Street buildings and cripple part of NATO's economy and hopefully weaken their forces. Meanwhile, thirty-thousand feet in the air, a C-130 plane was flying above the Luzon Rainforest. A lone figure stood at the cargo bay door, he was about 6 feet 4 inches and Captain America muscular. The red jumping light turned to green and with that the figure jumped out of the plane. He rapidly descended to the rainforest floor. Once he was one-thousand feet above the treetops he pulled his chute. His speed decreased tremendously.
Once he was twenty feet above the forest floor he took out a large, carbon fibre knife and cut the cords on his parachute. He hit the ground a little harder than expected, resulting in a violent stream of profanity flying out of his mouth. "Tempest 1-1, do you read? Over." a gruff voice crackled. "Loud and clear Stinger. Over." I whispered into the microphone. "Proceed with caution Tempest 1-1. Large amount of tangos are patrolling the sector. Over" Stinger advised "Roger. Will proceed with caution. Tempest 1-1 going silent. Over" I affirmed quietly. "Stinger acknowledges. Good hunting. Stinger over and out." the voice replied. Good, now time to start hunting for Macintyre. I thought. I started making the trek to the vantage point.
Back at the compound Macintyre was arming his troops for the assault. Fifteen twenty-person Transport Helicopters were going to be arranged as soon as he gave out the order. The soldiers were still running around frantically. "Mindless Grunts" he mused. "Indeed they are General Macintyre" a deep voice agreed. Macintyre immediately turned around, only to be met with the barrel of an assault rifle. His eyes traveled up the the figure. He couldn't see much, due to the darkness, but what he could see made his skin pale. The man was tall, at least 6'4, and very muscular. "How did you get in here?" Macintyre asked. "Easy, shoot the people that see you, then hide the body." He responded. "Are you going to kill me?" Macintyre sputtered. "Yes. I am." At those words the man pulled the trigger, ending his life. He then ran out of the building, thankful for the rain and night. As he was running a loud alarm sounded. Spotlights turned on and faced the figure, revealing it to be Chris. He let out a large quantity of swears. A footsoldier came up behind him and smashed the buttstock of a AK-74 against the back of his head, promptly knocking him out.
Chris woke up inside a bland white cell. He didn't know how long he was out or where he was. "Ah, you're awake. You don't know how hard it is to carry a tank like you." a disembodied voice said, it seemed to come from everywhere in the cell. "Don't worry Chris 'Arma' Mortem. No harm will come to you if you obey." As soon as the voice stopped dark green gas filled the cell. As soon as it reached his nose, he was knocked unconscious.
Chris had been in the prison from twelve weeks, eleven days, three hours, and thirty minutes. The people here performed countless experiments on him, like taking blood and spinal fluid. Chris knew he had to get out. Chris was trying to memorize the guards schedule. He had most of it memorized to the last minute, but some was unclear.
Today marked the third year Chris had been here. Today also marked the day Chris' plan to escape was commencing. The people here had performed numbers in the tens of thousands. He would gladly end all of their lives. His plan was to silently make his way to the armoury, stock up, then sneak to the control room and cause a riot.
Chris waited until dinner to start his plan. He was in line to grab food. He sprinted towards the armoury, alarms sounded. This isn't supposed to happen! Chris thought, his delicate plan had been ruined. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the guards behind him. Chris was six feet away from the armoury when they opened fire. The cracks of gunfire resounded all around him. Bulletholes were everywhere, it was a miracle that he hadn't been hit yet. Two feet now! he thought. Searing hot pain shot through his entire body, sending him sprawling to the floor. The soldiers started reloading. Chris frantically crawled to the armoured door. Just as he shut the door and locked it, heavy gunfire sounded. Chris was thankful for the bulletproof door. He looked down at his left leg, it was very bad. His calf was ripped to shreds, the bone was visible. He knew he had to do something, lest let the guards get him. Chris scoured the room for any medical supplies. He finally spotted what he was looking for; Biofoam. Biofoam would help stop the bleeding and create artificial muscle, tendons and tissue. He took the canister, pulled the safety pin, then sprayed the foam into the injury. It was excruciatingly painful, he vision had large black spots everywhere. Chris knew that if the pain didn't stop he would faint, giving the guards enough time to capture him. After thirty seconds the pain stopped. He looked at his leg, it looked exactly like his calf hadn't been shot but the colour was yellow-red, probably from the blood running through the biofoam. Chris started grabbing as much armour, weapons and ammunition as he could carry. He now had two 40. caliber semi-automatic carbon fibre pistols, ten magazines, a HK-416 SOPMOD automatic assault rifle, it seemed everything was carbon fibre here, six magazines, a Mossberg 930 semi-automatic shotgun with twenty shells and four M61 fragmentation grenades.
Chris walked over to the door, opened the armoured slide-up door and tossed a grenade into the hallway. After three seconds an explosion rocked the corridor. Gore flew everywhere. Chris stepped outside and started shooting the prison guards, making his way to the control room. Once he arrived, he had ran out of magazines for the HK-416 so he had discarded the weapon. Chris looked over the controls on the console, he eventually decided on unlocking everything. This would give him enough time to escape the prison. The alarms went even louder, if that's even possible. Chris took the shotgun off his back and prepared to fight his way out.
Twenty minutes later, he busted down the prison doors. He dropped the now empty shotgun and took out the two pistols. He started shooting guards out of the towers, getting two guards with one shot, while running towards the inner fence. He started cutting through the inner fence. He was halfway through when the largest explosion he had ever seen destroyed the high-tech super prison. The shockwave sent him flying right through the inner and outer fences. He landed with a sickening crunch in a field. I must have a few broken bones now Chris deadpanned, in his head. He slowly got up, wincing as his body made several cracks. Chris started limping towards the nearest town. A blinding white light engulfed Chris' vision before he fell unconscious.
Chris woke up in a white hospital room, he could hear the heart rate monitor's steady beeps. He looked around worriedly, he had no idea where he was and he didn't want to fight his way out. Chris was interrupted from his thoughts when a tall man, 6'1 or 2, came into the room. He had blond hair, purple eyes, and a expensive looking black suit. Wait, purple eyes? Chris thought. "Hello Mr. Mortem. I'm glad to finally meet you. My name is Robert Wilson, Director of the 'M.C.S'." Robert announced. "What's the 'M.C.S.?" Chris asked, he was interested now. "The 'M.C.S' stands for 'Mutant Capture and Studies'-"
"Wait, Mutants? I've never heard of this." Chris said, interrupting Robert. "Yes, mutants. We have discovered two large groups of mutants that are living in the U.S"He replied. "The U.S? The U.S was destroyed in the war. There's no way anything can live in that desolate wasteland, the radiation would've killed everything"Chris said, a look of confusion on his face. "This may be hard to believe, but, that was never real. Just a simulation to see if you were compatible with our you, fortunately, are." Robert informed. "What?! So all of that was fake? Everything that I went through was just a test to see if I can work with you? What about all those earlier memories?" Chris burst out, fists curled in rage. "Not all of it. You are still a super soldier. Everything before the age of 19 is real. The Academy, your childhood" Robert said, he seemed to be enjoying Chris act like a two year old, lips curled upwards a smidge. Chris visibly relaxed when Robert finished "Okay, but what does this have to do with me and what makes these mutants so dangerous?" He asked. "Who better than the epitome of death? As for your second question, we have several spies in the two groups. All of the mutants have certain powers. Some have increased speed, or strength. Some have increased intelligence. There has even been a mutant that could control fire, but he went missing. The only question now is; will you join us?" Robert said, his face turning serious. "Yeah, I will. Need something to do now that I l know that most of my life has been a simulation." Chris replied. " You haven't spent most of it in a simulation, You're actually 23. Here, this contains everything you need to know about them. Apparently they believe in several gods. You'll be given an alias to go by, lest they figure out who you truly are, and you'll have nearly unlimited supplies to accomplish your mission." Robert said, handing Chris a yellow folder saying"Top Secret" in bold, red letters. "It also contains keys to a penthouse suite. Good hunting" Robert added, walking out of the room.
Thanks again for reading. The next chapter should be around the the same as this one.
6/29/2015 fixed the last paragraph, sorry that this isn't a new chapter. I'm starting this story's plot line tonight(for the entire story) and the next chapter will be out on the 4th or 5th of July.