A Survivalist is You!

Entry: Nathan Hale

Pain…

Pain for as long as he could remember. He had hated the pain for so long.

…Yet now if pain had a human form, he would kiss it. For that pain meant he was alive.

Slowly; grimacing from that ever-present pain, He got up.

He was lying in a rather dirty bed inside a tent. Déjà vu struck Nathan. This had happened before. The last time he had lied here, he had been told he had only three hours until he became a Chimera.

…Or had that been a dream? Looking at his hands, they seemed relatively human.

'Aahh, so you are awake?'

'Malikov…' Hale turned over to see the familiar Russian scientist. The man seemed to have aged, despite being quite old to begin with. Lines of tiredness were all over his face, his movement was stiff, and Hale was pretty sure if he could have seen that man's eyes through the glasses, they would be gaunt and lifeless.

But he didn't look Chimeran, and that was a positive.

'What… happened?' Hale asked weakly, using all his energy to remain upright.

'How are you feeling?' Malikov asked, ignoring Hale's question.

'My head hurts like hell, and I'm feeling a bit weak. But apart from that, fine.'

At the words 'my head hurts', the corner of Malikov's mouth twitched.

'Cappelli was reckless again.' Malikov waved his arms around, exasperated. 'He brought you back when he noticed you were alive after that shot to the head…'

'Shot to the head?' Now he could understand that smile that nearly appeared on Malikov's face.

'You had turned; Cappelli had to shoot you per orders. But when he saw you were alive, he brought you back here, It took him weeks, it's amazing he could make it all this way.

'I've turned? I feel human enough. More human then usual, actually.' He looked at his hands, not because they changed much when he went Chimeran, but it often changed his vision, and would see them in a different light.

'That would go in accordance with the tests.' Malikov sat down on the floor, sighing. 'Apparently that shot sent the virus in overdrive to keep you alive. In doing so the majority of the…' He paused. '…Organism in your body was destroyed.'

'So then, some of it's still in me?'

'Alas that would be a million and one to one chance, what happened to you was a million to one.' A weak smile crept on Malikov's face. 'But it has been reverted far back. Using inhibitors could hold the virus back for a long time.'

'Well, that's good news…' Another stab of pain in his forehead. 'How is the war going?'

'Pretty much the same as before, we've managed to hold them off, but nothing impressive. It's a shaky stalemate for the moment.' Malikov sighed. 'I'm sorry, Hale.'

'Sorry for what?'

'Some men have come looking for you, they wish to speak to your personally, they have promised us supplies and weapons if you talk to them.'

'Why?'

'I don't know, and to be honest I don't trust them.' Malikov sighed, wiping his brow. It was then Hale noticed the sweat on his own body, the air wasn't too hot, but very humid.

'Well, I suppose I best to my part in the war by talking to these guys.' Hale said with a hint of sarcasm. He got up, his legs shaking, his right hand gripping his head as another shot of pain went through it.

'They're just outside, near the truck.'

Slowly, Nathan Hale walked out of the tent. Almost immediately he noticed the truck. It wasn't built to blend in with the forest; it was a dull grey and all too obvious if there was enemies nearby.

Next to the truck, once again in highly visible outfits, were three men. The left and right men were completely nondescript. There bodies were completely covered in black body armour and a helmet. The one in the middle though, had his head visible and slightly different, more bulky armour. Not the most impressive face though. He was an aged man with an eye patch. His visible eye was a cold, uncaring blue.

Yet he gave a smile and opened his arms out invitingly at the sight of him. Even if that smile seemed like one a child would have when he sees a new toy. 'Nathan Hale, it is good to meet you.'

'I'd return the favour, but I have no idea who you are.'

'Aahh yes, how rude of me. My name is Solidus Snake.'

'Not your real name, I take it?' Nathan choked down a laugh.

'No, but names can be changed. After all, I heard one Mr. Sheppard changed his name to Daedelus?'

Nathan growled at that, but Solidus continued undeterred 'A much nicer name I think, for a man can change, and should he not have a new name to reflect that?'

'What is it you want?' Hale snapped. 'In case you don't realize, even as we speak people are dying or being transformed into monstrosity's. So say what you have to, so we can stop those things.' Speaking of Chimera, the forest was unnaturally quiet and Hale could smell the scent of blood. Perhaps there had been an attack recently.

'Aahh yes, the Chimera.' Solidus seemed disinterested. 'Very well then, I am from Australia, as you may know it is the last place in the world free from the Chimera.'

Hale narrowed his eyes. He had known an Australian once, and his accent sounded nothing like him. Perhaps he was just being stereotypical, but still…

'We are doing a bit of… research into people who have volunteered for Project Abraham. Even starting our own, you might say. What we want is you to assist in… testing these individuals who have picked up different abilities due to our experimentations on the strain.'

'So what is in it for us? You mentioned something about supplies and weapons.' Hale narrowed his eyes. The man talked in a similar to his own gruff (if somewhat articulate, which Hale didn't have) voice, if distantly. But there was something amiss.

'Of course, we will send soldiers; I doubt the Chimera will expect such an attack. We have been experimenting with abandon during these blessed years of peace. All we need is an example of Chimera; Sentinels too, which we haven't been able to get our hands on. Give us that, and we will gladly come to assist in the war.'

This wasn't right… The man was speaking what he wanted to hear, not to mention the whole thing seemed off. Why would they want the War Hero to be forced down to experimenting while the war went on? They should be getting another Sentinel.

This man was lying, that was clear. It sounded like he was full of himself, but Hale knew it to be true.

'Not interested.' Hale grunted, turning away.

He missed the glint in Solidus' eye. 'Are you sure? You could be dooming the very country you have spent so many years defending.'

'And they still need me here. To be honest, I don't even think your telling the truth.' Hale didn't even bother to turn around, he kept going.

'Very well,' Solidus sighed, and then. 'I'm sorry it had to come to this.'

The two goons ran forward.

Turning around, Hale's eyes glinted yellow as he brought his fist forward, striking the left goon in the stomach. The other one managed to grab Hale's other arm before meeting his friend in a rather unceremonious *Crash* as he was tossed aside by Nathan. Both of them lay sprawled on the floor, while Hale was still standing, albeit panting. Obviously he had not fully recovered.

'I can't help but feel insulted.' Hale chuckled between deep breaths. 'They send a couple of weaponless thugs and an old man to take me on?'

The goons moaned, starting to get up, this attempt was prevented by a swift kick from Hale, the sound of ribs straining could vaguely be heard from underneath the armour.

Solidus' visible eye however, shined. 'Just what I wanted' he murmured. 'As soon as I heard of you, your tale, I knew we needed you.'

Slowly, he began moving towards Hale. 'We are not so different, you and I. We were both inferior. We both found ways to become better…' Suddenly the armour he was wearing expanded to accommodate a sudden increase in Solidus' muscles. 'Yet in the end who will have the last laugh. You bested your other, that deserves respect that. I knew when I heard of you that I… We needed you for the tournament. I want to see what is in you. What allowed you to best your superior?'

Now Solidus was charging forward.

Hale charged too. Bringing his fist up Hale struck at the man's visible face. The strike was beyond human speed.

Also beyond human was the block. Hale grimaced as the block didn't yield. Holding Hale's fist, Solidus turned around and hurled Hale in a manner similar to what had happened to his goons.

With a *whump* Hale hit the earth, his head spinning, his left fist in agony.

Shaking it off, Hale got up, his movements reverting back to the stiffness they had been when he had just gotten up.

Solidus watched with interest. 'You really are something, you know that Hale?'

Ignoring that, Hale charged, a new plan of action formulating.

Yet once again it began with the same punch.

Once again, he was blocked, Solidus moved to throw, but just as Hale was over his head, he struck with a side-headbutt right in Solidus' face.

Stunned, Solidus let go and fell back.

Hale managed to get out of it in an upright position. Solidus started to get up, Hale kicked…

And got his leg caught by a swift grab, and yanked towards Solidus. With his other hand Solidus extracted a syringe and quickly stabbed Hale in his right arm with it.

The world became blurry; all Nathan Hale could think as darkness overtook him was 'not again…'

In a place far away from where he had been, an unknown time later, Hale groaned as he heard a cricket chirp in his ear. Reflexively slapping at the general direction, Hale stood up, surprisingly refreshed, if confused.

The first thing he did was look at his hands. To his relief his appearance had not altered at all, it mustn't have been long since he had been knocked out.

Now there was the matter of where he was.

Looking at his surroundings, it was noticeable that the plants were different, mainly unrecognizable. One military rule was to know your environment, and he certainly didn't know this one. Except from the salty taste in the air, that told him he was near the sea.

About to look for water, he noticed lying on the earth, little rust and no vegetation on it, his carbine with a sling and his specially modified glycerine pistol, as well as a sheet of paper.

Quickly picking up the sheet of paper, he started reading.

Mr. Nathan Hale, if you are reading this you have woken up on an unfamiliar island ('so I'm on an island',Hale noted). Please note that this island is inescapable. Any attempt to swim out will be met with an invisible and indestructible barrier; Now, on to business. You have been selected to participate in a tournament. This tournament is being broadcast worldwide. The premise is simple, survive longer then the other participants on the island. To help drive you to succeed is a prize to the winner of ten million dollars from me and extra ten millions from each other associate of mine. As an added bonus, I will be glad to take the money in exchange for the weapons and men you so desperately need (see? I did not lie there).

The rules are simple. If you are caught (Hale noted the emphasis on that word) attempting to steal from the small buildings dotting around the map, you may just anger an Enforcer. These men are here to keep the tournament running smoothly and are better equipped then you. So try to keep away from them. Also, they can be ordered or choose to come after you if you try and stay out of combat, so you best not try to avoid battles. Another (obvious) rule is to stay away from the volcano. It has been long dormant, but I wouldn't try your chances! (At this point Hale frowned, there was something odd about that line… He couldn't see the volcano either, but the trees were obscuring his view anyway).

We weren't quite sure what weapons to give you, but we didn't want you to have them all and camp, simply waiting for them to come to you. So I improvised. At the end of this letter will be a clue to another weapon, on that weapon will be a clue to the next and so on. Of course, when you have too many weapons, you'll have to hide the rest…

Oh, and another thing I didn't lie about. While yes I lied that these people have Chimeran strains, they do have strange abilities. So don't underestimate your opponents!

I wish you luck, and hope to see what makes you tick!

-Solidus Snake

I'm the weapon that hits the mark

I can be found in half-destroyed bark.

Finishing with that riddle, Nathan Hale scrunched up the paper and tossed it away. It appeared that he had been trapped by a madman on an island filled with people who would quite easily kill for money and survival.

It was times like this Hale did believe there was a God. How else could he be shot, drugged and all-in-all end up screaming in agony over and over again, only to get back up for the next one?