Treyarch - Infinity Ward - Activision
tot Wecken
By NedThePlatypus
Disclaimer: I do not own anything about Call Of Duty or their zombies franchise. All rights go to Treyarch, Infinity Ward and Activision.
Chapter 1. Origins
The teleporter struck lightnng as it's giant cascading metal doors obstructed the air and opened.
It was dark.
Three heroes emerged from the silver machine. A Russian with a pilot's cap, a Japanese man with a small cap, and a german man with strict military clothing. They're names were Nikolai, Takeo and Richtofen.
Remember them.
Nikolai was rubbing his eyes immensely as Takeo and Richtofen moved down the steps engulfed in the strange world around them. It was dark and smelt like clouds and ashe. It was a war zone. Lines of sandbag wall covered trenches loomed in the battlefield infront of them.
Nikolai called out from the teleporter. "Do you see him?"
Takeo responded promptly. "No, the Panzer could be anywhere. This place spans many miles. He will be hard to find."
Richtofen stayed quiet examining the objects and military memorailia spraying life and lost memories from every corner.
"Hey, where's Dempsey?" asked Nikolai.
"Not sure," responded Takeo. "I thought he came with us."
They turned to the teleporter. It had closed. They turned back. They came to a realisation.
There was no one with them.
They were alone.
Richtofen lead is hand along a golden bullet shell sat among a clump of dirt in the ground. Nikolai stepped down from the teleporter and saw a big bunker ahead of them. "He's bound to of gone that way." Takeo answered "we must follow to be sure. This place is too big to be wondering in the wrong direction. The fate of the world could be in our hands."
Entering the bunker it was cold but dry. Shelves lay broken and cloth lay ripped. Books liend the walls but most were torn and battered. The bunker had three exits. They all lead to long muddy paths down cloudy sky exits. They had big wooden spikes and fences.
"More than a warzone," thought Takeo.
Richtofen still stayed quiet. Maybe he knew something the others didn't. Whatever it was it just fueled his curiosity as he stared up the books on the desks and weapons in the lockers. Mostly just MP40's and M1 garand's. Classic world war 1 weaponry. Not of any use against the pandemic they faced today.
Nikolai caught Richtofen. "We're not here to find souveniers we're looking for that damn Panzer soldat."
Richtofen grunted and walked towards one of the exits staring into the blue abyss. Finally he spoke. "Are there even any undead here?"
"Is there even anyone here? Is more the question. We know there used to be."
Takeo stepped in. "The Panzer is probably on it's way to the time machine right this second. I don't know why it's here, but we need to catch up to him before he gets there; its probably best to spread out."
"Good idea." Nikolai held his shotgun close and walked out the exit towards the broken building. Its grey brick sat in heaps, crying softly.
Richtofen walked out towards the blue path. He continued down the trench looking through the wooden fences and barbed wire at the scenery up on the ground. He saw a giant metal – arm? A limb of some kind. From what? He thought. He tried to ignore it and continued on. Richtofen turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. There had been no sign of life throughout this whole complex yet there they were. There had to be atleast two hundred of them.
And they were all dead.
Skewered on poles. Burnt to the organs. Heads missing, arms missing, legs missing. The only thing left was a question.
"Who or what did this?"
Richtofen knew about the war that had taken place there but the wounds and lethal scars made no sense. Some were pinched like they had been attacked by a claw. Some were sizzled as if lightning had struck and torn them to shreds.
Takeo fizzled onto the radio and called for his accolades. "Any of you found anything yet?"
Nikolai pulled his out and answered, "just dirt and bullet shells. How about you Richtofen?..."
No answer.
"Richtofen?" He questioned.
Richtofen just stood in disbelief. He walked up to a body and touched it.
It was warm.
It was warm.
He searched the pockets and found a small book. It was a journal. Richtofen opened to the inside cover.
"Josephine Magnus." No idea. He must have been a soldier who fought in the battle. Unless he stole it. Richtofen spat and made the weakiest effort to communicate into the radio.
"I found a diary."
Takeo ignored. Nikolai wasn't listening.
Richtofen turned to the first page and read off the brown slitghtly burnt pages. They read;
"We rode into battle today. I am a soldier of Sgt. Masker's platoon of the German Military Forces. I was manning the gun of the jeep. We had been riding over a red hot desert with a convoy of trucks and other vehicles of sort. The sun had been scorching hot.
Now we rode alone.
We were accompanied by the other platoons but they had spread out into the many buildings and trench lines that filled the battlefield we had willingly walked into. We could communicate with them over radio yet it felt like they were miles away because of the vast emptiness of the battle field.
Right now I am in a bunker. I write this by a warm candlelight barely keeping itself awake. Ive been told to rest. Told I need it, after the horrors that today brought. Yet it is hard to sleep. How can one sleep when they are in constant danger. It must be a blessing. And a curse.
"Those things could break in at any moment!" I would tell them. But they wouldn't answer."
Richtofen stood trying to comprehend it. He licked his thumb to turn the page. And he read on.
"When we were in the jeep this morning we had been moving slowly over hills and we came to a vast grey dirty trench complex. No one knew quite exactly where we were, we just knew the enemy were close. We weren't certain.
We sat calmly readying guns until we heard a booming noise. A noise like no other you had ever heard. It was loud. Very loud. We thought it was a bomb. We were told to duck. "Get on the ground." The blast never reached us. There wasn't one. But something else did. Something way more terrifying. Something none of us could ever comprehend. The kind of beast we had never dreamed of.
It was big.
It was as tall as a skyscraper.
And it was as indestructible as a titanium.
We fired bullets, launchers, rockets, explosives. Nothing beat it. The man made of metal.
The man made of metal who was 800 metres tall.
He stepped, his big shiny feet crushing anything underneath it. Leaving only the crust of the earth that held it up. We stood ready, but we weren't. No one was. Especially for what came next.
I don't think it's weird to say that I was expecting a human army. And I also think I expected an army that was alive.
God did not grant either of those wishes.
We first heard the scream from the Breda M30 gunner.
He sat in horror while he stared at the soulless corpses wondering towards them. They're eyes were pale. Their goal was simple.
Kill.
Eat.
Move on.
The soldier next to him turned. "If you see them, shoot man! We have the upper ground here by hiding in the building. We don't want to lose it."
The first soldier started talking, but he didn't move his head to face his friend. He simply spoke, eyes trained on the bodies slowly drifting towards them.
"They- they don't have weapons. They're just- just walking."
The other soldier remarked. "Hoven, what're you talking about."
He went to take a look.
He jumped back.
"That-that one doesn't have an arm!"
By this time the rest of Sgt. Masker's platoon had caught on. They flooded into the radio like water down a pipe.
"WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS?!"
"THEY DON'T HAVE LIMBS!"
"WHERE'S THE ENEMY!"
"RUN!"
"STAY!"
"FIGHT!"
Was this a coincidence or was this the enemy?
The horror of the oncoming hostiles distracted them from what they'd previously seen. That's why they jumped when the robot stepped on a whole group of them; squashing them into the ground as blood splattered all over the sand bags and wooden barricades
"WHAT DO WE DO?!" The gunners panicked.
"JUST SHOOT 'EM!" They fired.
Bullets sprayed uncontrollably and they hit the zombies. The dead men fell to the ground but however many they killed twice as much would just appear again. Their buddies were falling outside the building. Some had gone heroicly in. Running with explosives as if a sacrifice was necessary. As far as im concerned, the only sacrifice we needed was petrol so we could get out. Thannkfully, most of us could hold off the zombies and eventually we made it down the trenches to a huge fortified base where we are now. There was a different story however for Hoven and his friend.
As the zombies stormed in packs of hundreds, they kept reloading and fighting. They were running out of ammo. Fast.
Then Hoven's friend heard a voice. A little girl. It rung in his head.
"Hello Lance. You are going to be a soldier. You will fight, but you might lose."
The soldier sat in horror, now the dead things must have been getting into his mind. He heard a slam on the door. They were getting in. The floorboards ripped and the walls cracked. The dead slithered in from every possible entrance. They were goners. Then, Hoven charged in.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" screamed his friend.
"Saving us!" This wasn't the answer. Truly. There had to be anotehr way.
Hoven pulled out a grenade from his pack and pulled the pin. He turned to his friend. "It's been an honour serving."
They told me that Hoven's friend made it out. They told me he crawled to the dead body, sprayed in the blood of the undead corpses. They told me he pulled off the dog tags and read them. "Lance Hoven."
They told me he cried."