A/N: Hey guys. I wrote this for my CW class, but decided (as I was planning it) to have this as a prologue. Here ya go.
The Purge of Troy
What is the real colour of a morning sky? Is it blue or is it grey? Why is there that little hue of pink mixed in? You know which one I speak of. It's the one that rips your heart into a million pieces and throws water from your eyes because of its beauty. Yes, yes. That one.
The old shepherds had their qualms about it though. "Red sky in morning, shepherds take warning." People take that sky for granted. It can turn the burliest and toughest man of the North Woods into the smallest and most frightened child by a mere glance. Something with that much power is quite often overlooked by people.
It wasn't overlooked by Paul Sharp though, not as he held his brothers head in his lap. Not as he cried. Paul stared up into the sky, cursing man, cursing war. His brother coughed up blood. It run down his cheeks and soaked into Paul's fatigues. His brother had barley any energy left; his eyes already had the glossy mark of death. He attempted to raise his arm and pat Paul on the cheek. His crimson and crusted fingers never reached their mark. Another coughing spasm kicked in. More blood flowed freely from his mouth and nose. He made an awful noise from the hole in his throat, spurting another fountain of thick and warm liquid, and convulsed in painful directions. He died.
Paul shook with sorrow as his fingers tightened and twisted in his brother's dirty brown hair. No more coughing. No more painful winces. No more childhood laughs. No family. Paul was alone.
Below the hill, upon which he sat, cradling his dead brother, his patrol packed up and began to move out. Paul looked up at the sky over Cairo, rocking back and forth with a non-existent lullaby for his sibling. The pink hue of morning set in; remember the one I told you of? That's what Paul saw that morning. He decided that it wasn't beautiful. He decided that the old shepherds were right; it was the sign of a terrible omen. It meant that blood had been spilt the night before. It meant that blood was about to be spilt again.
Kissing his brothers forehead and closing his eyelids, Paul pulled the pin from an incendiary grenade and placed it under his brother's dead corpse.
"I love you bro." Paul followed his patrol into the unseen hell that awaited as his brother's body burned silently, another warrior going up to meet the gods on the top of their mountain.
***
When approached by members of the Osiris and Apollo Corporations, Paul Sharp was one of the most well-known men in service. His multiple tours in Cairo, Venezuela, and Siberia were well documented and well known; some examples were even used in history textbooks for scholars. Paul had a body count under his belt that no one man could compare to.
So who better to "buy" for security than the most dangerous man alive?
Lieutenant Sharp was a tough negotiator. His price even made the pockets of the two wealthiest Corporations in existence shudder with disgust. The real amount settled upon was never disclosed. Only two people knew it: Paul Sharp and Mr. Vincent Osiris himself, both of whom took that secret to their graves.
Even from inside of the drop ship, its cabin light casting an eerie, red light upon them all, Paul still felt the cold.
Olympus was their mark. A hundred degrees below absolute zero. The planet itself was far away from the sun. They, they meaning the scientists, gave him exact numbers. It had just hurt his head. All he needed to know about it was that it was really cold and really far away.
The planet was a large moneymaker. Big bucks type of deal. That was why he was barreling through its atmosphere on the inside of a tin can; large moneymakers usually led to one thing. War, and China had already sent publicized threats. Maybe not full a scale one, but deaths would occur. Even worse, quarterly summaries would drop substantially. That was not allowed to happen.
So there he was, racing towards an icy hell with extreme speed and no determination. He wanted to get paid and leave. That was it.
His crew, if they could be called that, was novice. One of them, was talking jive and just making an ass of himself.
"You know," he started with a high-pitched Boston accent, "I like killin' civvies; makes me feel like god." He started to cackle. Paul glared at him. Killing civilians was looked down upon, but not illegal in the day-and-age they were in. Bob Linehue was quickly growing on Paul's nerves.
The marine across from him just sat there. He was big. Really, really big. Sharp had all his money that he had been a lineman in High School. Paul's scanner ID'd his dog tag: Joe Fifth. He looked Scottish, but Paul couldn't be sure, nor did he want to be. The majority of the guy's mass was pure muscle. He was a human tank. His bald head gleamed in the red light, providing a deathly shine.
The guy next to Paul was barely even a kid. He shook with nerves and looked like he was gonna hurl. It didn't even look like his boots fit him. The light went green, the "go-sign", and the kid passed out.
"Damn it." Paul reached over and began shaking the kid. "Come on, wake up. Wake up!"
"Lieutenant Sharp, we are approaching the LZ. ETA: Two Minutes: Thirty Seconds." The pilot shouted into his mic.
"Roger that. Listen up, people!" Paul stood. "We are approaching the LZ. Be advised that there has been no intel, nor any communications coming from Troy for some time. I want Fifth on point," the large man nodded, "Linehue you're pullin Recon." Before he could argue, Paul continued. "And when little miss sunshine here wakes up, he's taking demolitions. Is that clear?"
"Achilles Tower this is Echo Two-Seven, clearance code 83945-6702, carrying Osiris reinforcements. Please send landing clarification sequence, over."
"I want everybody to check their packs, their suits, their ammunition. Make sure there aren't any weapon malfunctions. Your weapon dies, so do you."
"I repeat, Achilles Tower this is Echo Two-Seven, clearance code-"
Wheep! Wheep! Wheep!
"Talk to me pilot!"
"Son of a bitch! Multiple SAM (Surface to Air Missiles) lock-ons detected! Achilles Tower, this is a friendly! Call off your boys! I repeat, call off your boys!"
The ship banked hard to the right, sending the marines out of their seats. Sleeping beauty woke up.
"What the hell, man?"
"Shit, I can't shake 'em! Brace for impact! Tower, call those bastards off now!"
The world went black.
***
Paul woke up in a snow drift. He was sore. Certain parts of his body stuck to the lining of his suit. That wasn't a good sign, probably meant that he was bleeding. A crippling cough tore through his chest. His mask was splattered with saliva and snot. "Crap," he muttered roughly.
Wreckage from the crash was a flame all around, being slowly swallowed by the blizzard. He could see the rough outlines of metal and mountains. The sky was purple and orange, the air still cauterized from the explosion.
There was nobody within sight alive. There were two charred bodies smoldered about twenty meters, both with melted weapons stuck to their hands. Paul slowly got up and limped into the wreckage. He found his pack, completely unscathed, and his weapon. As he picked up the rifle, a pain shot through his arm. "Damn."
After an incident in Siberia he had lost most of the functions in that arm. It had been shattered in nineteen places, but an anonymous donor had provided the money needed for it to be rebuilt with titanium and robotic circuitry. Even though he had a synthetic arm, the pain receptors still made it hurt like a bitch.
He grunted through it and continued on. After walking a few meters he found the upper half of the pilot's body. It was a clean slice. No jagged chunks of meat disproportioned the man's symmetry. A frozen trail of blood led up the nose of the ship and to the cockpit where the window was broken into a large knife-like shape.
Paul imagined that the pilot's legs were still up there, but he really didn't feel like checking. He bent down to close the pilot's eyelids, only to find that they were frozen in place. He couldn't even move the half corpse. Whispering a small and useless prayer, Paul left him and continued through the wreckage.
The fire crackled in the harsh wind, making the night sound eerie and hellish. Paul kept his vision wide and alert, he had no idea of what was out there. He didn't want to find out by surprise neither.
"Umph."
Paul pivoted his body, weapon already ready to fire upon command. He saw nothing, only a black and endless wall of shadow.
"Come on, move damn it! Move!" Someone whispered. Paul crept forward and pushed away some rubble with a gloved hand, sending another bolt of pain through his arm. ON the other side the sleeping marine from the ship was struggling underneath a heavy rotor. He looked up, his mask covered with blood. His head fell. "Christ Lieutenant! Damn near gave me a heart attack. Help me get this thing off, would ya?"
***
It took them some time to reach Troy. The SAM units had sent their ship spiraling a few clicks into a heavy wind. That meant a lot of walking through the cold. It wasn't really fun.
They reached the Osiris Corporation outpost within four hours. They spotted it at their one hour mark, far off in the distance, like a castle of old times. It was only a shadow then, but a large, intimidating shadow. As the two marines closed in, it only grew with size. The snow fought against its thirty meter high walls, failing miserably. The tough metal didn't stir from its slumber.
"Damn, hell." Kenneth whispered. They were at the main loading entrance, looking for a way in. The lanky marine had to bend his back and tilt his head until his skull was nestled between his shoulders in order to see the top of the wall. "How much d'you think it cost to build something like this?"
"Don't know. Don't care. Let's just find a way in." Paul went over to the key pad and clicked the Communications Link button. "This is Lieutenant Paul Sharp with the United States Marine Corps. Somebody feel like letting us in?" He let go of the button and waited for a response.
Nothing.
"Come on now, somebody's gotta be awake." He pushed the intercom again. "This is Lieutenant Paul Sharp, US Marines. Open up. Now." He let go.
Static. Nothing. Static. Feedback bursted through the speaker. Paul turned the volume on his arm control panel down so he could hear without going deaf. "Help! Jesus, please help!" It was a woman.
"Ma'am, calm down. Why do you need help? Are you okay?"
"They're all dead! Please don't let me die!" Loud thumping could be heard behind her. She was panting and freaking out. "No! They're getting in! Please help me!" A loud crash stopped her coherent speech and her screams were cut off, replaced with a wet gurgle. The feedback came on once again. Paul and Kenneth just stood there.
"Private, I want a charge on this wall ASAP. We are going in."
***
The charge was blown, they went in, weapons drawn. Kenneth's hands shook slightly and it didn't go unnoticed.
"How much action have you seen son?" Paul asked as they slowly crept into the empty outpost. The wind howled through the halls, echoing screams of the fallen.
"No-not too much sir. Little conflicts here and there. N-nothing like this though."
They walked past a limp corpse sitting against a wall, its head turned away from them. Paul took one hand away from his automatic and reached down with two fingers to take a pulse. The head rolled to towards them, a gaping hole in its skull.
"Holy Shit!"
The lower jaw hung agape, composed only of muscle and bone. It looked as if someone had taken a cheese grater to the skin. If the body hadn't have been frozen, it would have stunk to high heaven. The person was missing an eye, leaving a listless void that seemed to watch all. His nose had been torn roughly from their face, leaving stringy bits of meat in its place.
"What the hell happened?" Kenneth asked. Paul could hear the fear in his voice, he couldn't blame him, but they were marines nonetheless. They had to fight. They had to be strong. Hoorah.
"I don't know." He sighed and stood. "But stay frosty; I have a feeling that wasn't the last of the bodies."
***
Paul had been right, that hadn't been the last of the bodies. There were at least three dozen more that they found. Men, women, children, all mutilated in awful ways. Some were missing limbs, some were missing innards, some had their limbs sticking through their innards. One child had his intestines strung through her eye socket. They went down a hallway that was completely soaked in blood. It was like walking through a womb. Kenneth had threw up several times inside of his own suit.
The smell of his own blood from the crash, mixed in with recently added vomit, was making him weak. The censors in his mask had wiped the area clear so he could see, but nothing could be done about the smell. Paul knew that it wouldn't be long until the Private passed out.
"Do you have any schematics on this place?" Paul asked, halting them at a cross-section. Kenneth bent over and put his hands onto his legs.
"Gimme-a-sec." He took a few breaths and tapped on his arm link. Paul kept watch. A green light shone on the floor, it was a large map of the complex. Two red dots appeared where they were standing. "Looks like there is a medical bay about a floor up and two sectors away. Communications Room is near there too."
Paul nodded. "Let's get to it then."
The two ran, their standard issues pounding on the grating with syncopated rhythm. Each hallway got darker. Lights had been smashed out of the ceiling; their boots crunched the glass as they crossed. Messages in strange symbols and words were written in blood and feces all covered the walls.
They reached a stair case, Paul took point and glanced up. It looked clear. To be safe he lit his torch, good thing he did. They weren't alone.
A large… thing, looked down at them, emitting a guttural growl. It had four large and white eyes. Its skin was like a rotten piece of beef. The light must have pissed it off, because it curled its lips into an angry grin, showing its thousands of needle sharp teeth. The wall of teeth opened and a shriek burst forth, like a cat caught under a car tire but with the power of a gorilla's mating call. The thing crawled across the ceiling with no precision, spittle flying from its mouth as it screamed.
"Jesus…" Paul murmured. He opened fire on it, piercing its sponge like skin and sending blue liquid through the air. The creature howled in either pain or anger. Perhaps it was both. Paul didn't wait to find out. He pumped the shotgun on the underside of his assault rifle and pounded three shells into its neck. The beast moaned and fell to the floor; a red balloon-like sack pulsated on the back of its head for a moment and finally deflated.
"Sir… What was that thing?"
"How the hell should I know? Never seen nothin' like it. Never even hear bout it. Better get moving though, just in case any of its buddies come looking for it and find us."
"More?"
"Shut up and move Private."
***
The medical bay was destroyed. Corpses hung from the ceiling, half defiled. Luckily they found a med cabinet that wasn't shot-to-shit. A few bandages, a couple packs of sutures, two syringes, and they were gone.
The communications room wasn't in any better shape. They found the woman, at least they thought it was her, who had pleaded for help earlier. Her arm still on the console. A severed head was located near the body, the back of the skull cracked open and the brain was gone. Her torso had been smashed like a tomato, chunks of meat and bone lie scattered through the area. The windows were covered in blood. Worst of all, the radios and equipment were torn to pieces. Paul sat down in one of the chairs, took off his gear, and began to unbuckle his helmet.
"Sir, what happens if the air isn-"
"Isn't breathable? Come on Marx, look around. They were alive up until… Well, I assume they could breathe." He popped the clamp off, the mask gave a hiss. The vacuum seal had been broken. He let it fall from his fingertips. His face grew red and he grabbed at his throat.
"Sir!" Kenneth shouted.
Paul fell to the floor and lied there. Kenneth stood above him, not knowing what to do. The Lieutenant's eyes shot open. "Gotta act quicker kid." He stood and walked back to his gear.
"Asshole."
***
There was nothing they could do in the Comm. Room; their only option was to get to Achilles Tower. From their current position saw no blood in the windows, nor were any of them broken. It looked like a good a place to hold up and put out a distress signal. They cleaned themselves up, put a few stitches in Kenneth's head, and sat down to discuss how they were going to get there.
The tower was about four hundred meters away. They had two choices. They could both travel inside by moving through the corridors and keep it limited to close range combat, or they could go out through the loading dock and cross the courtyard. It'd be easier to see an attack coming if they went outside, which Kenneth expressed. Paul wanted to get there fast, and it would take at least twenty minutes to get a bypass on the lock from outside. That meant twenty minutes with their thumbs up their asses, right in the open. Paul was in charge. They were going through the corridors.
Kenneth went to the small bathroom before they set off, so Paul took the time to sit at a terminal and open up an empty interface. As it was loading, he pulled a small case out of his pack. Inside there were wires and a disc. He slid the disc in and connected the wires to a board under the screen. Then, Paul pulled up his sleeve and plugged the other end of the wires into his arm. Instantly he gritted his teeth in pain. There were clicks and clanks coming from his radius and ulna. His skin was moving, as if there were thousands of mice underneath the blanket of flesh. Bolts tightened and twisted, spun and screwed themselves back in place. Blood was pouring from contusions. A tooth broke as he writhed in pain. Suddenly it all stopped. No pain. He sighed with relief and looked up to see Kenneth staring at him.
"Right then…" He started, awkwardly kicking the ground. "We move out now?"
***
It smelled like musk. It was cold inside of Troy, but it was tolerable. The walls began to turn from black to a dark green, like they were covered in mold. Their torches glistened against the slick walls, shining exuberantly through the dark.
Their footfalls echoed down into the floor, deep through every level all the way to the core. The hallway seemed to go on forever. They continued on, looking down their sights. They came to another stairwell.
"Give me a flash." Kenneth handed Paul a cylinder. The Lieutenant pulled the pin and tossed it through the doorway. "Cover!" They took cover on both sides of the door. A loud bang sounded from the middle of the stairs as a white light erupted into the hall. Multiple screams came forth, all of them from the stairs. "Shit." Hissing was heard from behind them. Paul and Kenneth looked at each other before swiveling towards the way they had just come. Hundreds of creatures like the one before had swarmed the hall. "Double shit."
Kenneth launched a fragmentation grenade from the underside of his assault rifle. It connected with one of their attackers, tearing the vile beast into tiny strands of pulled pork. The shrapnel took down a few others, crippling them but not killing them.
"Nice shot Private. My turn!" Paul pulled out his revolver and swung himself into the stairwell. Kenneth held the hundreds at bay with warning shots; they seemed to understand what was going on. He heard six shots and multiple flesh on flesh contact along with select curses. Paul leaned out into the hall, covered in a bioluminescent blue colour liquid. "All clear. Blow the hall." He took off up the stairs as Kenneth pulled a C4 charge from his pack. He threw it and flipped the things off, quickly following Paul.
The first creature reached the small box with the tiny red light and sniffed it. It beeped twice and then clicked. The explosion tore through the beast's head, first removing its upper jaw from the lower half, its tongue flopped around sloppily in the open, before disintegrating it completely and the walls crumbled to block the doorway.
The explosion made Kenneth miss a stair. His right leg fell in a gap and his shin snapped as all his weight fell forward. He almost passed out at the instantaneously at the pain. He could feel the two pieces of bone rub against each other. It was bleeding profusely. He squealed a primal screech. Paul rushed back and pulled the leg from between the now crimson stairs.
"Jesus kid." He slung the Private over his shoulder and carried him up the remaining stairs. Kenneth was put down and leant against a wall. "Let me see it…" Paul reached down towards Kenneth's leg and pulled his knife from his boot. He grabbed a piece of moist fatigue and gave a small tug. Kenneth tried to tear himself away from the contact, but screamed as the bone scratched against each other. The top half of his shin pierced the skin and he passed out. "Oh boy." Paul scratched underneath the back of his helmet. "That's not good."
***
They had found a way in. Paul didn't know how they did it, but they did. Hundreds of them, some bigger and stronger than before, others smaller and faster. He did what he could, but Kenneth was still out cold and he couldn't take them all. Paul poured all of the fluid out of his suit's heating system and banged the butt of his rifle against the wall for some sparks. They created a wall of fire. The creatures screeched and recoiled, but didn't leave. Paul grabbed Kenneth and ran.
He continued towards the tower, but hit a snag as a section of corridor was caved in.
"You have got to be kidding." He muttered. Paul had always been one to think quickly on his feet, but he was at a loss for the moment. There was only one thing he could do. He had to cross the courtyard.
A large screech came from above him. Paul didn't want to find out what caused it so he quickly left, making his way with Kenneth on his back to the docking bay.
The bay was large, basically unscathed. All the vehicles looked to be in working condition. He made his way towards the nearest one. No key. 'Screw it.' He thought. 'I'll hotwire the damn thing.' More screams sounded from behind him. There wasn't any time. The hanger door was already open. He had to hoof it.
His sprint wasn't as fast as it had once been. The sun, even as far away as it was, still casted a pink hue for in the sky. Paul had the strongest of feelings that he was not going to leave Olympus alive.
There was no more wind; but the temperature slowly ate away at his skin, his suit was useless since he used all the fluid to keep those monsters at bay. Paul fell into the snow, his knees sinking dangerously deep. Kenneth rolled off of his back.
Paul dug his fingers into the white powder, breathing heavily. Hypothermia was already there. He looked at Kenneth, the boy reminded him of his brother. He wasn't going to let that happen again. Not on his watch. It was his job to keep those him safe.
They had followed the trail of blood. Paul could see the black swarm through his fading vision. They were going to eat him and Kenneth. No. They wouldn't eat anybody.
Their bodies leapt like hungry cheetahs, sprinting on all four primate like limbs, trying to get their fill. Paul made the decision quickly. He stabbed Kenneth with a stim pack, waking the wounded marine with a scream. Paul nodded to him, threw him a large stick, gave a small salute, and charged the enemy. He pulled a chunk of C4 out and stuck it to himself. Then he plucked twelve pins from twelve grenades. It was martyrdom for a cause.
The explosion rippled through the ground, sending Kenneth into the air. Still in his sleepish stupor from the pain, he didn't notice his leg tear completely off at the shin when he landed. All he saw was a cloud of white from the snow. He lightly squeezed his finger on something in his hand. A crackle set off a bright green flare. It flew high into the air and he slipped into darkness again.
***
There were men in thick armoured suits running around when Kenneth awoke. He was lying in the snow. A large warship was landing. There were weapons going off in each direction. A man walked nonchalantly over to him, taking his time to shoot a writhing beast in the face. He looked at Kenneth from behind his mask and smirked.
"Well shit son, looks like you've cause quite a mess here."
Kenneth coughed up some blood. "How'd you find me?"
"Easy, you shot off the flare." Kenneth didn't register what he meant.
"Don't you guys think that you should be watching for the others? You know. the others that we were sent here to fight?"
The older guy smiled. "There never were any others. Not too quick on the up-take, are you son?"
Something clicked inside Kenneth's head. "You shot us down." The other man nodded. "Why though?"
"Come on kid."
Kenneth thought hard. It didn't add up.
The man frowned, his old face sagging more than it was. "Look, there is no war. We made sure of it. This aint no mining colony anymore. This little outbreak needed to be taken care of covertly." He crouched down and rested his arms on his knees, letting a large revolver swing back and forth between his legs. "This is the future of warfare kid. Survival of the fittest. We don't need troops anymore. We don't need men. We have these… Things."
"You sick bastard!" Kenneth spat at the man but it just wound up on the inside of his mask, leaving a trail of thick blood running down slowly. The older guy just laughed and stood up.
"Colonel!" A marine came running up to them. "We just got word from forward command. They said site two is being overrun as well."
"Well this is just turning out to be a great day, aint it? Let me finish up here and I'll be on the first shuttle out."
"Yes sir!" The marine saluted and ran off.
"Well Private Kenneth Marx, looks like your job is done. KIA. So sorry to hear that." Before Kenneth could say a word the Colonel put a round through his mask and into his skull. Blood soaked into the snow and ice. The Colonel chuckled. "The younger ones are always dumb. Corporal?" A man came running up to him.
"Yes sir?"
"Take this body to the big mama. I s'pect she's a bit hungry." He walked off to a waiting chopper, stepping in and taking a whiff of the air. "I love the smell of gore in the morning."
"Why's that sir?" The pilot asked, lifting off the ground and into the pink hue of the sky.
"Smells like… money." They both laughed.
Meanwhile, as the Colonel flew off towards the other outpost, the Corporal did his job. He grabbed the corpse and walked over to a door under the snow. It opened into a deep pit. An angry hiss escaped into the air. It almost sounded like a sultry whisper "Feed me. Feed me."
He threw the body in and quickly closed the door before he could hear the disgusting slurping of flesh. The Corporal clapped his hands clean and picked up his weapon, walking back towards the base to help with the extermination. His dog tags fell off into the snow without him noticing.
Another ship landed, a tall man stepped off and sunk into the snow. He walked up towards the Corporal. With a glance at his chest, the Corporal immediately saluted.
"At ease, Corporal." The man said, saluting back. "I'm looking for a Colonel Alderitch." A creature came sprinting at them. The new comer reeled back and punched it in the face, killing it instantly. He looked back at the stunned Corporal. "An answer is more welcome sooner than later."
"Sorry sir, Colonel Alderitch just took a ship to the second outpost. Did something else go down, sir? They wouldn't send you guys in unless it was big."
"Shit. Hold on, hey Childs!" Another man ran over and the Corporal stood at attention again.
"What's up with him?" Childs asked.
"They don't run the regular corps like us. I want you at the second outpost, the Wetland Yutani one. Make sure Alderitch touches nothing. Wait there until I give further orders."
The man nodded. "You got it Capt."
Childs ran off and hopped on a leaving chopper. "Now," the Captain said, turning back to the Corporal, "there is something a bit wrong. You guys aren't supposed to be here. Osiris and Apollo are gone, bought out by RDA and Weyland Yutani. They want nothing disrupted here…" He paused and looked at the carnage. "And I'd say a bit has been disrupted. Come on Corporal; let me show you how the Colonial Marines take care of a situation like this."