Beta'd by D. Fender and Gladsome
RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth and Monty Oum.
CHAPTER 2
The unfortunate colonel, now promoted to general at the behest of those snot nosed whelps of officers, worked through the terrible knot in his temple. Terrible though the pain may be, he knew better than to go to the "Good Doctor" Monroe. Out of all the possible doctors and medics from the Front to come with him on that fateful day, it simply had to be him and his team. He shuddered at the thought of being in the same room as the Doctor, as those 50 odd unfortunate souls injured from last week's fracas with the local wildlife would soon find out why they should feel nothing but envy for the rest of the army and the 24 fatalities.
He was getting too old for this. Magical, world transporting, godly Lights? Animal appendages? Dangerous tropical paradise reminding him terribly of the his times as a young lieutenant in the Malay posting? With those sinful, exotic women, and excellent food, and gambling dens. Ahh the good times.
Except there were no good times here, just as there were no exotic wenches, cuisine, or gambling establishments. Just him and 40,000 other whiny Tommy Atkins; absolutely no redeeming features at all.
Speaking of animal appendages, there were increasing number of men dying from severe blood loss as they tried to amputate their animal parts in a desperate attempt to revert back to their normal selves. Well, he supposed the first order of business would be to write out an order to all afflicted soldiers to wait for the Doctor and his team to have a look at them all...and to stop cutting off their animal appendages. Along with the injured men from last week, that should keep Doctor Monroe busy.
An explosive sigh escaped through his mouth as the weight of the whole damned situation bored down on him. The Army needed re-organising, the resources check book needed balancing, new fortifications needed building and so on and so forth.
Although considering they mysteriously found 40 Mk 4 tanks, 1 of those dirty Boche tanks, 30 tiny Frenchie tanks, aircraft, 100 horses, heavy artillery pieces and shells all in a large jungle clearing 100 yards from their fortifications, they were probably not going wanting for munitions, supplies, and machinery for a long time.
Although seriously, why anyone wanted this thankless desk job back home was beyond him. Hours of 'General this' and 'General that' were slowly driving him closer to the brink of madness than the Western Front ever did.
At this rate, he will probably even miss that mutton-headed fool Meltchett, and his pet Darling too.
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Lieutenant Price had two choices in terms of direction for his newly created platoon. He could go further inland into the jungles where hungry beasts lay, or he could go west along the coastline as another platoon went east. Deciding to avoid the high probability of horrible death, the platoon moved westwards along the coastline and on to the glory of establishing first contact with the local aliens, like Livingstone in the Dark Continent before him.
But just because one made a sensible decision doesn't mean one will be rewarded for it.
Oh course not.
That would simply be too easy, and thus would be an insult to the great, British explorers who went through great hardships such as Scott of Antarctica and Captain Cook.
Lieutenant Price learned this the hard way, a day later, when his platoon encountered a terrifying beast. It was huge, with great tusks coming out of its mighty jaws, savage long claws to complement it and great powerful muscles to use them. Smaller abominations that resembled wolves and boars came out of the trees to put themselves between the platoon and the big creature.
Lieutenant Price never once complained about his gun being too small, but in the face of this large enemy, he doubted he would have felt safe with even an eight bore elephant gun in his hands.
The Beast took a step forwards, revelling in the stench of fear from the search party as it took long sniffs in the air. Lieutenant Price was aware of how sweaty his hand was at that moment as he adjusted his grip on his rifle, picking his target in front of him. One of the panic stricken soldiers fired his rifle, bullet smashing into the armour of the beast with no visible effect other than seriously annoying it.
Shrugging off the rifle shot, it roared a signal for the its minions to attack the platoon.
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, OPEN FIRE OPEN FIRE!"
Every member of the platoon was spurred into action and followed his command. Everyone from the Lewis gunner to the designated sniper emptied their magazine into the foul beasts. The wolves died quickly enough, but the boars staggered onwards and had to be speared by bayonets to stop them in their tracks. Lieutenant Price was vaguely aware of several of his men being gored by a boar before Private Cooper plunged his bayonet into the last demonic pig's side.
The Beast, caught by surprise by the loud noises and the sight of its brethren being so quickly annihilated, took a step back as the entire platoon rapidly reloaded their weapons and aimed their sights on the last surviving target.
Perhaps, it knew the jig was up.
Perhaps, the Beast felt it should die with honour that day, with its front facing towards the enemy, because instead of continuing its withdrawal, the Beast roared defiantly at the odd humans and charged at the entire platoon, who in turn obliged the Beast several hundred rounds of .303 bullets fired into any area not covered in bony plates. After emptying their magazines, everyone stopped to stare at the beast, its massive body now prone.
"Cor blimey, reckon dat fing is dead Sarge?"
With a mighty roar, the beast came back from the dead, looking for revenge on the puny humans
Being first to react, Lieutenant Price ran forwards and emptied his revolver into the eyes of the monster, bullets piercing the skull and finally ending the whole skirmish.
He dropped to his knees emotionally and physically exhausted, as he saw the nightmarish bodies break apart and fade away in the air, leaving no evidence behind of their existence, other than fear and a shocked silence.
"Umm sir"
"What now, Cooper, can't you see I'm busy resting here?"
"Sir, behind the trees sir..."
Price hissed out a heavy sigh and turned to see what the devil the private was harking on about.
And then he paused.
Beyond the foliage was the most welcome sight he saw since the start of this whole mess.
People.
