Ch. 1

Wrex Blizzard Simon Lais-Ellis came out of the respawn room a new man, literally, and ran right back to his tower. Clad in his Slipknot T-Shirt, sorta-baggy jeans, and his custom made black leather jacket, he knew he looked good. He liked his job. It was quiet, it was hardly even safe, and it was fun. Just how he wanted it to be.

He was a Sniper.

Wrex was born and raised in a mansion in Amarillo, Texas with a giant pool out back and a Ferarri parked out front. He was an only child, and his parents were kind and loving when they weren't at work for a good portion of the day, and he came from a good family. Until one hot summer day, his mom was going to cook herself a grilled caviar sandwich, but didn't get the chane to, and she left the gas on, a spark from the satellite antenna on their house was all it took to light the house on fire, and both his parents died in that fire. But Wrex escaped from the fire with no burns, 10 toes, and... 9 fingers. He had lost his trigger finger.

After he realized he had no parents, no job, no money, and 9 fingers, he decided to find a doctor. So he went to the side of the burning wreckage and received his car keys from inside a hole in a old oak tree outside. He hopped in his car and revved the engine. Bvvvrmmm! Bvvvvrrmmmm! He loved that sound. He loves thinking about how the gas combusts in the engine thing-a-ma-doo-hickie, and pushes the car forward, like a magic carpet. Then nearly crashing the car by thinking too hard.

But realizing he had gone past Amarillo and into the Badlands, he decided to give up the search and went into a tattoo parlor back in Amarillo. He backed into a pothole-ridden parking lot and went back down the highway. He had driven for quite a while when he noticed his finger was getting into worse and worse condition. His finger was already coagulating and infecting. He stepped on the gas and roamed where his mind went. Everywhere. He wandered into a tattoo parlor. A bulky man was standing at the front counter. He was dressed in dark gray coveralls with a red collared t-shirt underneath and he also wore yellow knee pads. He could tell this man was strange.

"Can I fix ya up for a tat? First one's free."

"Yeah. I want a big soaring eagle on my back."

"Ok. I'm gon' need some ID from your parents, boyo."

"I'm 18. And even if I wasn't I couldn't."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, it might have to do with the fact that my parents just died in a house fire."

A silence filled the room.

"What's yer name, kid?"

"I'm Peter Littleton" (Now, Peter was Wrex's original name until he changed it to Wrex. Remember that now.) He led him over to his 'TatTable 3000', as he called it, and told him to lie down. He lay down, and felt himself sink into the soft, velvety material of the thing.

"So Peter. Where ya gon' go?" he asked as he cleaned off the needle of his tattoo needle.. "What do you mean?"

"Now that you have no folks to take care of ya."

"Eh, I'm thinking of just roaming. You know, maybe join the army or something." At the dreadful look on the man's face, he decided to change the subject.

"Jeez, this thing is comfy!" The man snapped out of whatever trance he was in,

"Oh! Well, if ya think that's comfy, you're not gonna believe this thing!" he chimed, gesturing at the machine he held in his hand.

"What's so much better about it than a regular tattoo needle?" I said, doubting the man.

"Er, this 'n... Well, you'll see."

"Erm... ok?" I muttered. Ready for the sharp pain my friends had told me about, I clenched my teeth, ready for the blow.

"Don't move so much, yer shiverin's making me lose control."

"Wait... you're doing it already?" All he could feel was a little tingle, not pain!

"Yeah. Now quit yer talkin', you're messin' me up here." This was strange.

Were his friends lying to him?... Or was there something different about the tattoo needle, like the man said?

"Ok, you're all done."

"Thanks..."

"Jeffrey. Jeff, if you please."

"Well thanks... Jeff." As Wrex was walking out the door, Jeff said,

"Hey, kid c'mere a minute" He walked back to Jeff and asked, semi-annoyed,

"What is it?"

"Well I was just wond'rin... if you ever need a place to stay, call me." Jeff handed him his buisness card. As he reached for it, Jeff revolted and screeched,

"What in the SAM HILL happened to your hand, boy?" Oh right. His finger.

"Well, I lost it in the fire. I'm glad nothing else, though." Jeff seemed to think for a second, then decided,

"Hey, come with me I have a friend of mine who could help with that." So this strange guy, who dresses like some sort of railroad dude, that you just met, and has given you a tattoo with some sort of strange contraption that doesn't hurt a bit has asked you to come with him. What would you do?

"Sure." He followed Jeff out to the rear exit of the building and to his red, mildly rusty van. Jeff got in the driver's seat, and I got in the seat next to him. It was a silent drive down the road, nobody said anything. Except this constant beeping coming from the rear of the van. Beepbeepbeep. Beepbeepbeep. It started to annoy him, so he turned around and saw the barrel of a minigun pointed at him.

"AAH! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?" Jeff sighed.

"That'd be my sentry gun. Dammit, I thought I'd turned the thing off." Now he was legitimately scared.

Jeff and Wrex arrived at some old warehouse in the Badlands. Jeff stopped the car and slid off his seat to the ground.

"Man. Some drive, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"Ya look like you've seen a ghost! C'mon, the gun won't hurt you one bit." As they approached the warehouse, Wrex heard the loud sound of a violin being played. Jeff gestured with his large gloved hand for me to ring the doorbell.

"Eine Sekunde bitte!" yelled a voice from within the huge building. A few seconds later, a broad face with long black hair and small circular glasses peeked through the door.

"Hello! How are you Jeff? Come for anoth- Who iz zhat?"

"Agnes, this is why I'm here. He needs your help."

"Vhat could he possibly get from me?" Jeff held up my hand with his gloved hand.

"Oh. Oh, my. Zhat looks very serious." His head dissapeared, and Wrex heard muffled yelling.

"Dima! You'd better put some clothes on! We have company!"

"Da!" Jeff told him,

"Wait here, I'll be right back." Jeff ran off back to his van, and I waited at the door. Agnes showed up at the door once again, his full self. I got to take a good look at him. She was wearing a white trenchcoat, red rubber gloves, and had a red plus sign on each of her shoulders.

"Let's see vhat ve can do about zhat." She led me inside and to a room with a large TV screen and a couch with a violin sitting on it. As they went further into the room, Wrex saw there was a closet that looked like it was chock full with weapons and equipment! Agnes went to the closet and got out a large tube that looked like a firehose.

"Lay your hand on the coffee table please." Agnes directed me, and I did what I was told. Then, she aimed the hose-thing at my hand, and pulled the lever on it. With some sort of magic, all the infection and coagulated blood disappeared! Wrex was speechless. Then, Jeff came into the room and set a small 2 small devices onto the table. One looked like a syringe, and the other looked like it belonged in a robot.

"Zhis is my MediGun." Agnes explained.

"It uses a form of laseromic plasmashield technology zhat passes through zhe skin and into the body, and it reforms the cells in that body part so zhat it multiplies zhe speed of zhe natural healing process of zhe part! Simple as zhat."

"Um... what?" Wrex said, not understanding a word she had said.

"Don'tcha worry, buddy. I never understand that crap either." Jeff laughed.

"That's the same mechanism that keeps my tats from hurtin'."

"How would that huge thing fit on a needle so small?"

"It's a mini version, is all." Jeff explained. Now Wrex understood.

"Now turn around, you'll feel a tiny prick..."

"Ouch!" Jeff had just used the syringe on him!

"Don't fret, it's just a chip. Now, for this next step, I'll need you asleep." Agnes turned the MediGun to Wrex's head, and he slowly... drifted... off...