Disclaimer:
Half Life 2 is property of Valve.
Author's Note:
Don't ask what I was thinking when I made this fanfic because, I don't know what I was thinking when I made the first rough draft of the fanfic. So enjoy this fanfic and be sure to leave a review with your honest opinion. Suggestions from you HL2 fans would be great. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that this takes place in an alternate universe.
Author's Note II:
For whatever reason there is a typo or really bad grammar. I blame myself for the grammar because I sometimes get confused about writing some sentences and a notable mistake or two is bound to be existent. Typos however…While editing I do my best to get rid of them. Anyway, read on. No more "Author Notes" until the end of the chapter.
Misadventures of a Troubled CP
Chapter 01: City 17 and all its so-called oppressed glory.
'Welcome to City 17, it's safer here.'
This is a lie. I follow this lie knowing I was at some point in my life hurt by that lie.
Funny thing is; it's safe for Civil Protection because we're armed with the infamous stun batons. It's the citizens who feel there is contradiction. Their safety is not guaranteed; they are regularly questioned and beaten for false accusations of suspicion. Boredom tends to do that. Hell, I shot a pigeon the other day. Uh, that was during my lone-some canal shift two days ago. I wouldn't do it in front of another CP. If another CP did see it, sure I guess there is a 'trouble' of being lectured and having to deal with those pesky sudden urges. All followed by a moderate zap and being re-posted.
Today I'm on alley patrol. Hmm...I prefer the station square night shift really.
Not that I mind traversing in the dark corridors of City 17. Say for this alley in particular. It's a maze of alley ways created by the tight cluster of buildings. All of which that provides narrow spaces with dark spots that don't see sunlight until high noon or something like that. It's rumored to be dangerous for unsuspecting CP's. Suffice that the CP in question is alone, bored, slightly off guard by boredom and oblivious to what may hide in these alley ways. Hahaha...sounds much like me right about now. Wait, that's not even funny.
Letting out a sigh I scan the entry passage up and down. Looks clear yet these buildings are old, they're falling apart. I'd much rather tread with caution. So I have my stun baton at the ready firmly gripped by my right hand. I knew a few CP's who disappeared and was never seen ever again. That's not the creepy part of it though. There is no sign of gunshots or blood spatter. No trace of missing equipment. Nothing. It's like they never even existed, accept for memory to say other wise. I'll be damned if it's some kind of Combine conspiracy against the Civil Protection Unit.
After all we did volunteer to wear these masks and uniforms. Unfortunately being and evil prick is a part of the job description. Being a symbol of oppression and intimidating the poor citizens. There really is no justice to speak of. Day in day out, stand around and keep an eye out for suspicious looking citizens and beat them with cruel and unruly methods of questioning. Eight hours ago I saw this Citizen, she was kind of down. I know that every citizen is having to daily deal with pain and depression. It's not like I haven't seen it before. Say for her. She was really, really down. Tears, like a flowing river dripping from her eyes, down her pale, sad cheeks. She was amazingly quiet about it. She walked up to me. Not too close other wise I would have to shove her back and say 'move along' or 'move back; first warning' anyways...
She was looking at me, through the lenses of my mask trying to see my hidden eyes. I was going to say 'move along' but she said this to me:
"You don't even care do you? One less citizen in City 17. Do you even have a heart? Or did you betray humanity in the namesake of better accommodations?"
Her voice was broken and she stuttered every couple of words. I pulled out my stun baton but she had already left. I put my stun baton away and sighed, slightly disappointed on how slow I reacted. Then out of the blue thirty minutes later I hear a harsh wet thud close to where I was standing. This all happened near the Station Plaza of course. I look down to my left and there she was. It was the sad woman who decided to commit suicide. The initial blood spatter was...err...messy. Some of her spattered blood ended up on my uniform. Man did that ever take a while to clean up...that's not the point though. A citizen out of the blue gone crimson red, I should have took her in for questioning. At the time I couldn't think of a good reason. Having seen that really un-nerved me. I tried to ignore it at first. I kept telling myself 'There was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.' It didn't help much to tell myself that.
Even now was I'm walking deeper into this dangerous alley way I still think about her. An event eight hours ago at the Station Plaza feels like eight seconds. God I hope the Scanner didn't catch me acting slow because I'm feeling rather tired today. Oh well it's all out of my hands. Maybe by tomorrow I'll feel better. Fat chance! You don't just forget things like that. I'll never forget. I bet they threw her body into one of the toxic sections of the restricted canals. Who wouldn't feel bad? Oh yeah...It's the citizens who knew her and me who witnessed her sudden post-plunge into hard pavement. I find this to be very disturbing. No proper burial of any kind. Sure I do my job with out hesitation. However that doesn't mean I can't feel anything.
So gloomy is the alley way as the discolored walls and cascaded shadows collide with the aroma of mystery and horror. Kind of homey if you're accustomed to darkness, suspense, conspiring some form of madness, making CPs suddenly disappear, ghost stories, having a death wish, a rebel lurking around waiting for a unsuspecting CP...Um...yeah I really need to get my mind out of this horror gutter. Being here doesn't help much and I can't leave until my shift here is over. I finally make my way into the central core of the combined alley ways. Tall walls and narrow passages, I can see the fire escape stair routes stretching from the buildings outer wall. Broken walkways, random power lines that shouldn't be lying around here yet it's thrown like home decoration for 'effect' reasons.
When I think about it; how those other CPs suddenly disappeared. Maybe it's a rebel who sadistically enjoys torturing lone CPs who come here. It's very professional of the rebel to leave no trace of evidence. Who knows? Maybe I'm next and I don't even know it. The sun is setting soon; I assume the danger is during the night. What night is this again...Misadventure Monday I think? Ha, I even renamed Sunday 'Stunday' only because I accidentally nearly over did my beatings quota just a little bit, last week. That's good reason enough for anything that lurks here to kill me.
I turn to my left observing one of the darker alley passages. Due to the angle of the setting sun, this path is the darkest. Why do I feel so drawn to this alley way? Am I really going to disappear like the others if I do? Although curiosity killed the cat I think I'll wander on into that alley and see what awaits me. After all…this is Misadventure Monday. I mention this because every Monday I have some kind of accidental misfortune for adventuring into some weird 'unknowns' which usually gets me into some trouble but typically nothing too serious. City 17 is boring at times and I have the luck of having weird patrols every Monday. This is one of those days and this time I have a bad feeling about this. I just have this subconscious feeling that tells me: 'This time it's not going to end well' I must be an idiot to suppress my instincts like this.
I may have spent over thirty minutes thinking here as I stare at my impending Misadventure of the week. Shaking loose from my cluttered thoughts, I slowly walk down the dark as night alley way. I can barely see where I'm going. Need I mention that I forgot to get a new battery for my flash light? Ughn…The sudden feeling of having bumped into something tells me I'm at a dead end. I flicked my stun baton and activated it. The dim blue glow acts as a weak light source. I think I walked into a wall. I feel it using my left hand. Yep a wall, just great. Just as I turn around while shutting off my
stun baton, there is a strange noise just below my feet, an unlocking sound of some kind…Wait a sec; Oh shi-!
"Arrrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh!!"
...
Ah...ugh...I must be unconscious...although a dark void isn't comforting, neither is the pain. I wonder if I'll ever wake up...
I can feel my senses awakening to dull pains. All I remember right now is falling through the ground.
On a side note...I think I heard a loud 'beeeeeeeeeeep'! noise. Oh crap, must have been during the fall...Um...
This can only man one thing. Though how I express that feeling is merely passion and panic mixed as though alchemic.
...Then I realized what just happened and remember it as though everything happened a second ago.
Shit, I fell down a trap door. This is bad, very, very bad. This is Misadventure Monday gone horribly wrong! I'm a typical CP whose luck became the worst. My eyes are shut tight, I'm on my back. I can hear the sound of water dripping from the ceiling, flowing beneath the mesh grate that I lie on. My eyes finally open. There isn't much to describe. It's dark down here. Where am I? And Ow! My sides hurt quite a bit. Ughn, this is the
price I pay for being an idiot. So this is what happened to the other CPs. They fell down here. Now what? I had to ask that didn't I?
At least my eyes are adjusting to the darkness. A tunnel that is narrower then the alleys I came from. The height is decent enough that should allow me to stand up straight. Slowly I roll onto my left side and pushed myself up from there using the brick textured concave wall for support. My line of vision is limited to a few feet at the moment. Then I look up. Holy shit, I've had quite the down fall, no pun intended. No wonder my sides hurt.
I hit some small ledges on the way down. The impact must have forced me to roll off unconsciously which brings me to wake up here. I guess the rush of pain knocked me out. How long have I been out for?
Oh no…Now what my eyes have really adjusted to the dark. I don't like what I'm seeing here. The skeleton remains of the CPs who disappeared. These ones are pretty old though. I lost my stun baton, so I may as well take a dead CP's. He won't miss it and I might need it. I pick up the stun baton and test it. It lights up just fine. I turn it off and clipped it to my belt. I'm still curious s to what killed them. Uh oh…it just came to my
attention that my communications radio is dead, although I don't pay much attention to it its part of the reason that I keep the volume down. Also to not hear the soft whispers of radio chatter tells me that I'm cut off from the system, severed if you will. If they declared me dead or MIA…as far as trouble goes, this is probably the most serious of all misadventures I'll ever have. Dare I should point out declaring this to be the most deadly of misadventures?
With a great deal of caution I walk down this tunnel, careful not to disturb the dead CPs. The last thing I need some CP killer on my trail. I'm still recovering my strength from that fall at the alley way. I don't know what keeps these sewer lines from collapsing, but I think some ones been doing their dirty work to keep this place from falling apart. I'd really hate to meet the sewer keeper. Is it safe for me to guess that I fell into a refuse tunnel? A place where the nasty sewer keeper leaves the dead CPs? I'm asking myself because I'm not coming across anymore dead CPs. Its clear walking from here…I hope. Why did I walk into this mess? Oh yeah, this is City 17 what could possibly go wrong?
Letting out a soft sigh I dismiss my dilemma and concentrate on looking for a way out of here. I kept walking until I came across a two way path. I have the choice to go left or keep going straight. Down my left I can see a ladder attached to the ceiling. There must be a reason for that. I walk up to the end of the mesh floor and light my stun baton. The sparks electrically makes the gross toxic colored water glow unnaturally. Shutting off the stun baton and re-clipping it to my belt I have this feeling that I'll be going this way. Just to be sure I head back to the two way cross section of the tunnel. I peek around the left corner. The sound of footsteps and Combine Over watch radio chatter raises my adrenaline levels. I get the feeling that they are not here to take me back to the surface. In full out truth there is only one way to find out. I think they'll find me just fine. Backing away a few feet I hold an unlit stun baton. I can hear them getting closer. I'm guessing that there is at least six Combine over watch soldiers. Oh my god, I came up with a stupid acronym for them. C.O.W. Ha, COW Soldiers. As amusing as it sounds it's got to stop. Besides that, I'm not even laughing out loud about it. Although I have insulted the Combine Over Watch Soldiers...it'd be funny if they were actual cows.
I turn around for the sake of having an element of surprise to some extent. This moment as they draw ever so near to finding me the only thing I can hear as loud as their footsteps, I can hear my heartbeat and I feel the terminal rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Now they have come to the two way split of the intersection tunnels. A strong dark leather gloved hand spun me on my heels, turning me quickly to face them.
"You, CP, what is your number?" The armored Over Watch Soldier with the impulse energy machine gun asked.
And like any other Combine his voice is electrically distorted via face mask, god who knows what mods went into the soldiers. I can't fake my number because these guys have every CP on record. I know my Number must have been black listed as deceased. They can arrange that if they wanted to. They won't even care either.
"C-17.52" I call out the number on my arm band. That should typically clear my ID and such. I mean, I'm the only CP who has grids 17 and 52 on my arm band.
Now they're chattering amongst themselves in a code language that's different then the CP code chatter. I managed to make out the words 'Non compliant' and 'Target threat analysis' and the words 'Terminate immediately'. I caught all that in time to activate my stun baton and hitting the nearest soldier right in front of me. My only other weapon that I am armed with is a standard issue pistol. I pull it out with my left hand and I quickly shot off some head shots. At least it's eighteen rounds per clip. I only discharged five of eighteen. Also I have five spare clips. I turn around and run to the end of the mesh floor. I put my pistol back into the hostler and the stun baton deactivated and clipped back onto my belt. Time to pull some hang time on this ceiling ladder. It's my only path of escape now. I don't like the idea of crossing over toxic water like this but I really have no choice to make in the matter at hand. I pull myself climbing one rung at a time. At least I'm making a good pace while I'm at it. It's official now: 'Misadventure Monday from Hell' Damn declaration and evil necessities! Ahem...Hmm...
This tunnel curves to the left and it's straight for quite a distance. Suddenly I am reminded of some old eighties music or remixes of the songs. Example, a remix of Klaxon's 'Gravity Rainbow', DOA's 'You Spin Me Right Round', Van Halen's 'Respect The Wind' and 'Humans Being', then other misc songs like Faith No More's 'We care a lot!' or Super Tramp's 'Fools Overture'. I'm starting to remember things that the chemical remedy for amnesia; should have erased. Maybe it's my drug digesting metabolism acting up again. As Random as this sounds there is nothing exciting about me traveling forwards on a ceiling ladder and a straight narrow tunnel. I may as well fill the dull void of decent action with weird things about myself or past experiences that may seem interesting. So I loved old music in my former life, what does that make me exactly, an 80s music junkie?
An audible sigh escaped me there. Very slowly I'm starting to remember things that were supposedly erased from my memory. Maybe memory can't be truly erased cause the subconscious mind will never forget, no matter what you do. Memories can be blocked at free will or chemical enhanced force. Was my body meant for digesting drugs like some test rat or something? Maybe someday I'll find out. Ah, on que I have passed enough time and traveled half way down the tunnel. The sound of an incoming man hack greets my sharp ears. An annoying sound if anything. Ha, I tend to call it 'the flying saw blade of doom'. I'm still making my way over the toxic ankle deep water. If I were to fall in it I'd die of toxic shock or radiation poisoning. The man hack is gaining speed and closing in on me. I'm quite vulnerable here; if my arms become injured I'm good as dead. This isn't fair at all; I can risk using my stun baton to whack it. However this only leaves me one hand to grip the rung of the ceiling ladder. Either way I might end up getting hurt. Um, I mean if the fall from the alley ways wasn't enough as it is.
The man hack speeds right past me and cuts into the right side of my abdomen. An electrically muffled grunt is my response, also followed by the swift motion of me pulling out my stun baton, lighting it up with a good jolt and swinging at the incoming man hack. I swung downwards sending that flying saw blade of doom into the ankle deep toxic water. Like acid the toxic water ate through the man hack efficiently killing it. If more are sent I'm screwed, I mean there is only so much I can take 'pain-wise' before I lose consciousness to pain or blood loss. I doubt that they'd send one simple man hack. There's more where that came from and I don't care as to where. Of course I put my stun baton away so I can keep making hang time progress. When I mention hang time progress I mean moving forwards quickly as possible. Climbing this contraption kind of makes me feel like a monkey. Huh...oh cool an intersection I'll go right. I don't know whether if this is a good idea picking directions with out thinking first. Sadly I do not have time to think so why not wing it? It's not like my situation can get any worse then this right?
...I- Uh...Well it is Misadventure Monday gone to hell.
Eh, this tunnel is curvy; left, right, swing, swing! Oh...it's just the tunnel and the agile movements of my body as I move forwards. This forces me to travel further with every rung I take hold of. The quick turns cause my body to sway left and right a little. A controlled swinging motion that carefully increases my momentum, even though it's only slightly. The curviness finally straightens out and my climbing session is almost over.
Up ahead is a straight rail attached to the ceiling. That's where the ceiling ladder ends and rail begins. I could probably use my stun baton and ride the rail descending deeper into the sewers. Maybe to go up means to be. 'Go deeper underground then head top side.' Once the C.O.W.S are off my trail, man hacks and all. Hmmm, I can hear more man hacks coming. I stop where I am and turn myself around carefully to face the sound. As if I'd let them cut me again. This time it sounds like that there are more of them. Once again I am forced to use my faithful stun baton for violence. Not that I mind sending these robotic buzz saw bastards to their doom. With a lit up stun baton in hand I feel lucky. Again my left hand keeps me from falling as while my right hand occupied with the stun baton has work to do. They came fast one at a time I swing the stun baton swiftly at the direction of the incoming man hack. Directions include; left, right, all angles of the diagonal axis in front of me. One man hack at a time I send them plunging into the toxic water. Six man hacks down four to go. Man, the C.O.W.S wouldn't be sending this many after me unless they think that I'm some kind of imposter. As in a rebel in disguise as a CP Metrocop. Ironically my disappearance for who knows how long is making them think that I'm not who I say I am; yet I am a CP Metrocop and I'm proud of it! My duties in city 17 is practically my half life. The other half of my life is forgotten, lost, etc. Personally In my opinion there is a distinct misunderstanding between C.O.W.S and CPs and me.
The remaining four man hacks are stalling, intimidating me. My one hand grip is beginning to weaken. Now they come at me again. The first one flies over my head very quickly. What is this, a new tactic? The second and third man hack comes right at me. I take out the second man hack but the third one cuts me along my right shoulder and passes by me. Mr. lazy forth man hack tries to just come straight at me but I hit it with my stun baton, slamming the prick into the toxic water. Two more to go, I hope. From behind both man hacks cut me, one to my right and one to my left cutting an inch deep into my midsection. Now they're in front of me again. The man hack to my left gets a head start ahead of the other man hack to my right. I knock the man hack on my left into the incoming man hack to my right. Both man hacks slice into each other and fall into the toxic water.
"Pricks!" I yell to no one in particular.
I quickly deactivated my stun baton and put it back into its place on my belt, clipped tightly. Not wasting any more time hanging around I climb along the ceiling ladders final stretch of rungs. Okay now that I have time to think with; I can concentrate on what I'm going to do with the railing. The tunnel is slanted downwards. There is enough space between the railing and the ceiling to hold my stun baton over it. What I plan to do is both of my hands on each end of the stun baton. Gravity will pull me down, deeper into the sewers than I'd like to go. There better be a mesh grated metal floor for me to land on at the other end of the ceiling rail. If not my misadventure will end at the toxic water and the C.O.W.S will have wasted their efforts to terminate me for nothing because I may have taken care of that for them. Heh, I'm just throwing that out there. I acknowledge that I might not live past the impending point of no return. Now that I have reached the end of the ceiling ladder, I practically gulp as I look down the slanted tunnel. Gravity will definitely take me down there. If I want to stop at the end of the rail I can grab onto it and analyze my situation from there. I let out a long tired sigh. At least there aren't anymore of those annoying man hacks.
First of all I take hold of the rail with one hand, my left; which leaves me hanging at an angle. It's not comfortable but, I can say that for sure. I take my stun baton and I hold it above the rail with my right hand.
"Okay...now or never..." I mumbled to myself.
I move my left hand close to my right; this lets me grab the other end of the stun baton before gravity can kill me. Quickly my left hand grabs the other end of the stun baton. Gravity pulls me down pretty fast. As much as I'd like to shout 'Whoo-hoo!' I actually ended up saying...
"Shit!" I admit this much. The decent into this sewer is a little faster than I expected.
Terminal velocity is not my friend. In fact it scares me to think that I've already hit terminal velocity. Then the abrupt if not sudden stop breaks the grip of my left hand. The momentum threw me down onto a very conveniently placed platform. I know this cause I landed on my ass. Hard metal may not be a pleasing thing to land on. Especially when you hit ass first onto it. Then I realize that my right hand is hurting from too tightly gripping the stun baton. So I put that back onto my belt. Okay here is a list of things that express how I feel right now.
1: I'm alive. 'YES I am alive, that's how awesome I am...'
2: Although it hurt, I'm glad it's a platform that greeted me here.
3: I can continue my misadventure.
4: The guys back at station square will never believe this.
5: No more hang time.
6: I love my job.
7: I hate C.O.W.S. 'Combine Over Watch Soldiers'
8: I really HATE man hacks; for life.
9: The fact that Toxic Water can be useful in destroying man hacks.
10: Civil Protection can kick Combine Overwatch's ass anytime!
11: The stun baton is the best combine weapon ever.
Um...I'm not sure about that tenth statement, but I am optimistic about it. I mean I kicked Combine ass...Oh shit...It's come to my attention that it would have been easier to drop dead rather then try to get out of this misadventure. Now that I AM thinking about it. Ha...ha...I'm just prolonging the inevitable. At some point I am going to die, Overwatch will never let me live this down. What are the odds that a lone CP can out run and gun the Overwatch Soldiers? I may be resourceful but clearly good luck doesn't last forever. What if I run into a resistance member!? Man that would really make things worse. I'm a CP; to them I'm the symbol of civil oppression. They would shoot me on sight no questions asked. In tunnels like this I really don't have much space here between the walls to strife left or right. Maybe a foot worth of distance between each side. Chances are they would aim at my head. Uh...I've stalled enough.
Ahead of me now is a series of platforms. Whoever designed this obstacle course within these sewers sure knows how to give misfortunate CP's like me a work out. If I do make it out of this, well I haven't thought that far a head considering that if the sewer of doom hasn't killed me, or the previous attempts by the Combine...
Anyways, moving along, I'm now hopping platforms through a level and straight tunnel leading to somewhere. I just got to remind myself that I'm not in city 17 anymore. No, in fact I am in Misadventure hell fighting for my life. I just can't get my mind around the fact that sooner or later I will die. Just like the CPs before me. It's only a matter of time until I join the dead right? At least I am putting up a better fight then they did. I refuse to go down with out a fight. Well beyond the shadow of doubt I know I won't survive. All I can do is go as far as I think I can. Heh, at first I was optimistic about getting out of here. To actually think that I'd make my way back to City 17 and its so-called oppressed glory. I'll be damned if I really do get out of here though. Am I really going to go back to my duties like nothing happened? Ignorance would say yes. I say 'No'.
To the Combine, I'm a traitor. I killed five overwatch soldiers and stunned one. Then I destroyed several man hacks. The way I look at it. There is a very good chance that I no longer work for Civil Protection because of 'my speculated' traitor status. Does this make me an officially unofficial Ex-CP? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...I don't want to dwell on this topic anymore. I can see up head, there is a full mesh grated metal floor that will allow me to walk from here on. I hop off the last platform and onto the official floor of this tunnel. The tunnel width increased by a full foot and four inches. Hey that means I can really swing my stun baton with more force than that of a narrower tunnel which wouldn't fully allow. The walk was rather short because I stopped at an intersection of the tunnel that goes in three new directions. Left, Straight or Right?
The Intersection itself is rather a small chamber. I stay standing at the end of the tunnel I came from. This keeps things simple, trust me.
"Shit...I can't decide..." I mumbled to myself.
No one's here so I can talk to myself if I feel like it, or if it's safe to do so. Beneath my mask I rolled my eyes and briefly shut them. Well standing around here and observing the three new tunnel paths isn't doing me any favors. It's occurred to me from the start that I have no map. I'm lost as it is, do I really need to be more lost then I already am? I let out a sigh giving each tunnel a sly glance. Folding my arms over my minor cut wounds. One inch deep and slowly bleeding; it stung painfully while I was pulling hang time. Although the pain is kind of dull at times, like it is now. It's a friendly reminder telling me that I am alive. Hmmm...I sometimes wish that I'm not. I mean, look at me. I'm a...Uh...I'm still a CP right? I look like one; plausible 'was one' however...I have met misfortune on new extremes. Overwatch is trying to kill me, the resistance; if any, is an unknown rouge element that has yet to cross my path. The sewers that I am currently traversing, well it's neutral at the moment. I can't complain about that.
I decide to finally stop standing and walk into the small but slightly roomy intersection chamber. I hear an unlocking sound and a really heavy stone door shuts behind me with a very loud THUD! I literally jump startled not only by the sound but how it shook the whole chamber. I lost my sense of balance only to stagger backwards against the stone door. My heart must have skipped a beat or two just now. I lowered myself to sit against the heavy door that scared the living daylights out of me. A one way trip that can have only multiple paths going forwards, even though it doesn't have to be forwards directly. I may as well sit here and work up the nerve to keep going. I feel as though someone is watching me. Challenging me to walk deeper into what may be my ultimate demise. I'm not sure if it's safe for me to rest here like this. In truth I'm quite tired now, but I can't sleep. Unwinding is okay; As long as I stay conscious I can access my gun very quickly if I need to. Vulnerability is something that I want to avoid, as much as possible. For now this is not a problem, I'm just sitting here because I want to clear my mind of a few things.
Item one: Speculative thoughts on the Combine Overwatch's point of view against me.
I am bothered by the over reaction they have made about me. Seriously it's not like I asked for this misadventure to happen because it's Monday. The way they see me, almost as if I am no different from their enemy. That's awkward because Civil Protection is not the Combine's enemy, last I checked. No; Civil Protection works for the Combine. So, say for my blunder for weekly misadventure. I lost communication with other CPs and sustained the possibility of having been declared deceased or M.I.A due to a failure to communicate my status. To them my failure to report in; becomes highlighted as a suspected spy amidst the ranks of Civil Protection. Um correction; I am a CP and proud of it. They have no solid evidence suggesting that I would be a possible traitor. Ironically I was forced to shoot five Combine Overwatch Soldiers, this in mixed communications the stunned 'C.O.W. Soldier' who still lives will confirm that 'CP-0570' me, within the 'C-17.52' patrol grids, has gone awol and is now an official traitor.
Item two: The sewers and my thoughts about these sewers.
The architect who built this place is a megalomaniac who loves exercise and foresaw these tunnels to become toxic water flow control lines. Although the sewer keeper for reasons unknown decided to keep the tunnels maintained and kept in good condition. This bothers me too; in fact a lot of things bother me in the meanwhile. I'll get to that in a moment. The ceiling ladder and rail did save me the trouble of avoiding the ankle deep toxic water. The rail was fun, exciting and scared me at the same time. The convenient placement of grated metal platforms gave me a fuzzy feeling. I don't think the sewers that I'm traversing in are to be my enemy but a one path guide so I don't get 'maze lost' As crazy as this sounds I think the sewers want me to keep going. However the dead CPs I came across at the start. What killed them? It wasn't the sewer, that's for sure. Then there is the matter of the stone door that came crashing down right behind me. The timing tells me that someone or something closed the door. As to why is still unknown to me, I could care less? There are mysteries down here that go beyond my understanding.
Item three: The rouge elements that have yet to threaten or find me.
If there are rebels down here then for me it is truly the end of my misadventure. They will shoot me on sight because of what I am. In their eyes I am a traitor to humanity. I sold my humanity and personality...and memories for better living conditions and food, etc. Urm, my neurotic personality remained un-phased but I did lose my every memory. Awkwardly I am very slowly regaining my lost memories. My morale and sense of humanity is toggled but regulated to CP standards. However beneath the uniform and mask is a completely different person; who wants to break free. This much is obvious as my instincts direct me with or without logical thought. I have the feeling of deja'vu lurking in the depths of my subconscious mind. That being said, it doesn't make much of a difference to the rebels. It doesn't matter who I am on the inside because I am judged by outward appearance. A Civil Protection Metrocop. Although I am a lousy CP cause my brain can't seem to digest CP code of procedures without dummying it down to plain English for morons. That's one reason I tend to keep the volume down on my radio. Listening to it and trying to understand it distracts me from watching my patrol sector. The rebels would laugh at me if they knew me in a 'past life' or something. Suffice they knew me before I joined the CPs of City 17 and 52. Hence my arm band number C-17.52.
My CP number is CP-0570. Anyways...I could be wrong about the rebels being intensively hostile. If they are really down here and still are...That would explain the dead CPs at the start of my misadventure. I mean I never mentioned this until now. Most of their gear is missing. As in the armored vest, equipment belts, Pistols or SMGs, spare clips, and hand held ID scanners. Oddly the dead CPs still had their stun batons lying by their corpse. I stole one because I lost my original one. Eh, moving along here.
One way or another it's; I accidentally find them or they some how find me. I don't know which way it'll go but for now I'm not going to let this concern me too much.
Item four: The real me, whoever that was...
For all I know I was a music junkie for old music and crazy techno remixes and the skepticism that I may be some lost test lab rat for new drugs. I wouldn't know for sure. Either way I'm still a neurotic individual of a personality of a guy who is currently recovering his memories at random or very slowly regaining memories in general. It could take years to piece together the bigger picture of my former self. I may not even have those years to ponder this kind of thing.
...
Okay that's off my mind now. Where am I again? Oh yeah, the four intersection way gone three, via stone door. I'm resting against it while bouncing around my mind clearing my thought track. I have accomplished that. Slowly I get up onto my feet which feel fuzzy and numb. Ugh, my feet fell asleep? Somebody shoot me. Eh I was being sarcastic. So don't shoot me. What the...I'm alone here! Who am I thinking to? No one but me. My god I am going crazy; well on a side note if someone were to read my mind they would think that I'm a weak minded CP who needs to be shot in the head. As in right now.
Ahem...hmm...okay that was something.
Ignoring the sudden mental snap I take the path to my right. A short straight that sharply turns left. The tunnels is straight for a couple minutes of walking then turn right, walk forwards then turn left. What's with this tunnel? Anyways short straight then left, forwards then right and forwards a minute of walking. I stop at a two way intersection. Left or right. Um...I don't know. I haven't thought this far a-head. Not that I need to. I can hear Combine Overwatch radio chatter echoing from the tunnel section to my left. if I go left I'll have to deal with them. I have decided to go right. This short tunnel then curves to the left. It curves to the Left again then a sharp right turn. Now it's plain straight and I move forwards with caution. The echoing voices of the Combine seem to be behind me far down the tunnel I came from. I am ahead and very much unnoticed. Can I sigh now or later? I'll do that later then. Right now...sneaking past the Combine. I will declare now that Sneaking past the Combine is more important then letting out a weary sigh. I can imagine the following sentence from the top of my mind.
'We have a non-compliant, neurotic CP. verify verdict to admin judgment. Non-compliant, neurotic CP is to be eliminated.'
I'd laugh if they actually said that. I bet a professional could think of something better then what my mind came up with. Dismissing the entertaining thoughts I have come to the end of the straight part of the tunnel. It turns ninety degrees to the left. I flatten myself against the wall and peek around the corner. Looks clear to me, I move along the tunnel wall. I can hear them getting closer. Once I reach the end of this tunnel I have to turn right and RUN! In 5, 4, 3, 2 ... I reach the end of the tunnel. There down in the distance to my left, not close enough to see me. I decide not to take any chances and run down the tunnel to my right. So far they didn't notice me, that's good. I only have one complaint. Did this tunnel happen to be by ill connivance a straight one? it's only a matter of time before it becomes obvious that I'm right here running like hell to god who knows where. I wish I had a map, and then I could take a short cut and get the hell out of here!
"Ah, shit!" I curse loudly.
I've come to stop short of entering a storm drain basin. The walkway ahead that crosses the cesspool of toxic water has a gap in it. The side walkways that outline the perimeter of the whole chamber seem pretty broken and doesn't look passable. The walkway directly ahead of me would require...
A leap of faith...
I can see high above me all the way to the surface. A grate that is unreachable. No ladder, no exit. A faint glimmer of mourning twilight dimly lights the upward passage. I am being tormented by the surface world that has condemned me to fight for my life down here. Forcing my gaze back at the broken walkway right in front of me. Do I really have to jump across this gap? I think I'll make it just fine, with enough momentum sure. At least the chamber itself is big enough. I won't have to back track too much. Slowly I walk backwards, away from the chamber. After forty seconds of walking backwards I hear the roaring symphony of Combine radio chatter.
"Target identified-!" just as one of them said that; I RUN away. Empathize on run, by the way.
Followed by gunfire of SMGs. hey, no impulse energy machine gun? What gives?
"This isn't brave, it's absolute suicide!" I accidentally yelled off the top of my mind, out loud.
A brief pause on their part then they resume shooting at me. I'm nearing the gap in question. All I can do now is sprint like I never have in my life. One bullet from their SMG guns hits me in the right shoulder. "Arggghh!" I cried in pain. Thanks assholes for actually hitting me. It amazes me how they deliberately miss me just to lower my guard enough that their stray aim hits me. Very clever you pricks! I keep running. Hey, what's that creaking sound? Shit, they weren't aiming for me at all! The support cables that attach to the walkway I'm running on. I manage to reach the end of it and Jump. At the same time the walkway collapsed as I jumped so now I'm having an epic leap of faith moment here. My momentum just allows me to snag the edge of the remaining walkway.
"Holy shit!" I yell scared beyond imagination.
"Ah, shit, this is insane!" I cry out. Very desperate I pull myself up, despite the cruel pain in the back of my right shoulder.
I have this feeling that this walkway won't last long either. I hate being right, the metal is creaking from the lack of structural support from the suspension cables. By the way the Combine is shooting at the cables. They want me to drown, well-
Once I'm up onto the walkway itself, as in on my feet I run as the walkway begins to give away. I take another leap of faith just as the walkway falls beneath my feet. This time I land feet first to the tunnel floor. From there I keep running Even though I sustained a few more gunshots then I'd like. The lower right side of my back, left upper arm and the man hack cut is hit on the left side of my abdomen. Gunshot wounds hurt much worse then Man-hack cuts, especially when a cut becomes shot by a SMG bullet. At some point I may have run for two kilometers or something. Then the pain knocked me out cold at a darker part of the tunnel which is actually now, after a long straight run; I am in a chamber of some kind. I can't remember the important details because I was conscious for two seconds prior to entering the chamber. A door like the one before shut behind me, that's all I know. I can only take so much before the pain over takes me, like it has now. I can't see through closed eyes and my ears have pretty much tuned out from around me to within me. I can't even feel much. If some one were to poke me, I wouldn't notice it. Hell; if I was awake and on patrol I wouldn't notice unless they poked hard enough to agitate me from my thoughts or I'm just starring out at nothing with a lack of thought process in mind. Like I may have earlier mentioned, I'm a lousy CP whose dedication knows no boundaries. I remind myself that every day. Arh, it would make my day if I were to wake up some time this century. My grasp on time is very poor and it may as well be into late Tuesday. If I'm down here for the whole week it's not Misadventure Monday. Misadventure week is my worst fear right now. It's bad enough that I get in trouble every Monday because I have the luck of having a misadventure in general. A full week of sewer exploration would be very difficult to explain. Just how am I supposed to explain this to my superior commander?
Uh, well I only explain what needs to be said. I leave out some details due to embarrassment or for the sake of keeping my job. Instead I enhance the truth a little and pick my words carefully. Sometimes my misadventures get caught on the Scanner Cam. Those things are everywhere! I got caught at least enough times having a misadventure or two, depending on what day it is, where and when; then I am moderately disciplined by my commander then sent to another patrol which is three days and three nights long as added punishment. I lost count to the amount of times I collapsed onto a bench or unconscious while I am still standing. Sometimes a nerve gets pulled by this 'sleep standing' and my head turns left to right; to its own accord. It makes me look awake and oblivious at the same time. Weird huh? Urm yeah, when ever I collapsed onto a bench due to fatigue or I end up falling to the ground although...most of the time it was a bench. Anyways I would be unconscious for days if I really wanted to. But no, I kept down time as short as thirty minutes.
While I'm thinking about this, I remember the time that I was in City 52. Whatever that city used to actually be, but whatever; I was patrolling a bridge over a dried up river. It was a suspension bridge. Um, Misadventure Monday, as in I got bored and climbed the suspension cable all the way to the top and got one hell of a view and a height scare. The view of the dried up river and City 52 was quite breath taking though. The scanner in the area caught one of my more embarrassing moments as a Civil Protection Officer. I bet whoever saw that must have laughed at me. The only reason I'm still a CP is because my misfortunate luck entertains them. My stories and such, the other CPs love me. With out me they'd be more bored then they are and the citizens would be beaten more thoroughly for amusement. Being a CP may not be sweet liberty justice for anyone but I made my choice. I swore I'd never look back at my former identity. I let them erase my memory. Sadly the drug is wearing off. I've only begun to remember myself. I still don't know my real name. Curiosity killed the cat didn't it? Well my curiosity back at the alleyways is very slowly killing me.
I'm still alive but I won't be if my injuries stack up against me. At this rate I'll have bled to death in the time span of, well I really have no idea but I think four hours if I sustain further injury that provokes blood loss. I have a cut wound that has been shot at directly. It hurts a lot and I can feel the flow of blood dripping steadily from further torn flesh and muscle. Oh and for the gunshot wounds, with each I have already sustained so far I either yelled or let out a very pained grunt at least only prior to when I got hit. They may have liked hearing me scream through my mask. A distorted less then human voice, it may not sound like a friendly voice but if you listen very carefully it doesn't sound so bad. It would probably take a finely tuned pair of ears to hear the nicer tones of a distorted voice tone. Maybe I am crazy; I mean I don't mind working for the Combine at all. For the most part it doesn't bother me. However I have my preference to working with Civil Protection. Combine Overwatch Soldiers have no personality at all. Like that one time an overwatch soldier was posted to my patrol grid. I tried to keep myself amused and awake during one of those restricted canal patrols. There I was walking along a fence keenly eyeing the toxic water filled section of the canal. I was rather sleepy that day. Somehow I noticed the things that any CP or Soldier wouldn't normally notice at all. I must have been sleep walking by high noon. I walked into the unsuspecting overwatch soldier who stood like a brick wall. I stumbled back startled giving off an audible grunt. The soldier looks at me, but under the mask he must have glared at me. I know he did because I could feel the sudden rush of panic silently cut through me as he glared at me. That feeling faded away once he went back to his watch duties. Agitated in more ways then one I moved along to my next post down the canal. Okay, enough of that memory and back to the now where I am having a bad sewer misadventure.
I awaken from my lack of consciousness with the feeling that I am not alone here, where ever that really is. A decently sized chamber at most, in the centre of the chamber is an open floor leading to a well of toxic water. I can tell by looking through the grated floor and simply looking around; as I lay on the floor still waking the rest of myself up. Very slowly I force myself up onto my knees. From the waist up, I am sore with a variety of serious injuries. I feel rather dazed, is blood loss beginning to affect me? I think so...
Getting up onto my feet, I grip the railing in front of me, a quick glance down the toxic well water. It's not a pretty sight, then again neither is the canals. I know a lot of places that have seen better days. My attention turns to the open doorway across from me. I move myself forwards one step at a time as I glide my hand over the railing. The walkway circles around very close to the walls of this 'toxic well chamber' I don't mind having to walk slowly because the door behind me prevents anything from the previous sections of the sewers that I've been to; from coming in here. I wish there was a cleaner and shorter way to describe that. Now I'm across from where the shut door is. I can see a head of me a darker tunnel that kind of reminds me when I entered the alleyways. For a tunnel, short as the section may be it's roomy like a small chamber. Huh, I feel in front of me a wall with my hands. Its' a…? A dead end, but there is- !
Author's Note III:
Okay, this is the official end of Chapter One. Or at least I think it is. To be honest I really don't know. Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading this Alternate Universe fanfic. Just be glad it's an alternate universe. In chapter two if I ever get around to it. You'll find out the hard way within the neurotic CP's first person, point of view. You'll know why it's a good thing to have this story in an alternate universe. By the way I am contemplating on how I am going to write chapter two. I do have a idea or two in mind. At the same time I am really open to suggestions from you; the readers who review.