Chapter 1: Battle Scars

A/N: Behold! My first attempt at a Gears of War fanfic! Dang it, I didn't even know this site supported videogame stories until... like... the day before yesterday? Yeah... I read some really awesome ones, which inspired me to write this one! It's actually based on a dream I had, except I was the main character. Weird... Anyway, I do not own Gears of War! (If I did, screw Marcus! Damon Baird would sooo get more screen-time, and Dom wouldn't be such a useless idiot in the game! He got me killed like fifty million times, for crying out loud! Or maybe I just suck... who knows!) Enjoy!

It was a hot, summer day, probably during the beginning of July. I can't remember anymore, exactly. Things were still not back to the way they used to be. Not for a long shot. Then again, how could they ever? There were far too many wounds gashed upon our past to heal up so quickly, though it had already been two years since the war had ended.

Nearly every survivor found had been crammed into a large, recovered city named, "New Jacinto". It was one of the few areas that still looked like they wouldn't crumble at the touch. By now, most of the streets had been repaved, and the buildings, rebuilt.

A very large amount of people were forced to take shelter in one small building, though I still would have thought there would be no complaints, especially when comparing this to our previous living conditions. I was dead wrong, and almost literally, at that. How many times had I nearly lost my head to a full shotgun round for invading some lunatic's "personal space" now? Hell, I've lost count! Nearly everyone was always nagging at one another, trying to bite each other's heads off.

"Ungrateful idiots." I used to say to myself every time a roommate would start their daily routine of being an unappreciative jackass.

Even I, Amanda Soberani, a Stranded at age six, and a sixteen-year-old girl, knew better than to pull the trigger on someone just because their two-month-old baby wouldn't shut up. Hell, if I was to survive this newborn shit-hole, I had to stay away.

Usually, I would spend my days running errands for the incapacitated, most of them being former Gears, just to stay in their good books and stay the heck away from the death trap. In fact, that is where I found myself this very day.

Luckily for me, most people, despite the ongoing chaos in their shelters, preferred to stay out of open areas. My only guess was that they felt more comfort in closed spaces. I couldn't blame them. Open space usually meant an emergence hole.

A shiver attempted to run down my spine, but I shook it off just in time. I had played it brave as best I could throughout the whole war, even if I was shit-in-my-pants petrified. I wasn't about to let a stupid memory of a grub hole screw that up now... even if I had nearly met my end that day, when I first encountered a drone fresh from an emergence hole.

My gloved hand immediately slipped under my black shirt, allowing my fingertips, left bare by the style of the dark, leather gloves, to trace over the old scar that ran from under my breasts to my lower abdomen area. The mark stood out like a white stain against my light, golden-brown skin. That was my oldest battle scar; one I attained from desperately trying to fend off a drone by going head-on, armed only with a metal baseball bat, to protect my younger cousin, Brandon. The unfortunate part is that he had a lancer. Awesome luck, don't you think?

However, I wasn't really thinking about the price of my rash action at the moment. All that my twelve-year-old self could allow to run through the mind was defending the scrawny, loveable brat. If I ever lost him, it would be the end of the world. He was all I had left.

Even after all those years, my mind could not erase those horrid memories of jagged metal ripping and tearing at my flesh, as I let adrenaline from utter fear drench my blood, taking over my body. I kept on striking him over the head with the heavy bat, even before he began his bloody gore-fest, seeing as his original target had been my cousin.

I could not have accomplished anything by myself but getting torn to bits, though. Out of the blue, a shot rang out into the atmosphere, and hit the monstrous drone right through the temple. Surprised, I had remained frozen, the chainsaw still tangled through my insides, and it hurt like hell now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

I fell to my knees, and rolled over, but before I blacked out, I noticed a large, muscular, blonde man with a sniper, leaning over me, and attempting to dislodge the lancer from my flesh without mangling it more than it already was. It wasn't too deep, probably because the bat was knocking his lights out. Slowly, but it was doing it's job.

"Manda! Oh, no! Manda!" I heard my cousin cry, calling me by my nickname.

"Rojas, get over here! This one is going to need serious medical attention!" The blonde man called. Soon, another figure leaned beside me, but I couldn't make him out. My vision was getting blurrier by the second. However, I guessed that this man was Rojas.

"Seriously, what kind of idiot goes at it with a locust with only a baseball bat?" Rojas said, his voice a little shaky as he tied my torso in bandages to stop the heavy blood-flow.

"But you gotta admit, baby, that this girl packs some serious balls!" That voice, I distantly recognized. I thought I had heard it on a sports channel, or something.

The blonde grunted in agreement, but muttered something under his breath, which sounded very much like, "And some serious stupidity, too." For a moment, my vision cleared up, and for that split second, I saw a face that I would remember until the day I died. This man, whoever he was... I owed him my life.

A/N: Well, hope you guys liked it! And don't forget to review, because that is how I am going to decide whether I should keep on writing or just quit it. Next school year is coming up in about a week, and I don't want to be wasting my time on a story nobody is going to read. Hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any suggestions, feel free to PM me! I love those things. They help me kick writer's block's ass!