Author's Note:Well, I have some explaining to do for this story. I'm part of a text based role-play site called Advanced Halo Unlimited. On our site is a section for fanfiction. I've been a fan of fanfiction (ha) for years, so I decided to try my hand at it It's a crossover of sorts, containing the supervillain of my favorite author, and the original characters created by myself and other members of AHU. And so, after some revisions, updates, and spelling corrections, here is the fruit of my labor. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo, Randall Flagg, or certain characters presented in this fanfic. Save for Flagg, these characters are used with permission.


The Gathering and the Storm
Part 8: The First Prisoner

Private First Class Luke Zellner continued walking and searching with the rest of his squad, his hands relaxed on his MA5C Assault Rifle. His platoon had been stationed in a small forest roughly a mile from the base. They were one of eight forward outposts dedicated to giving an early warning to the base for an attack. Currently, Zellner and his squad were busy on patrol through the peaceful woods that had never seen war, and wouldn't for another three minutes. The marines were bored and unexpecting of an attack, and were pretty far from the outpost for patrol standards. But that didn't matter.
"Hey Zel, how's that girl of yours?" asked Luke's best friend, Lance Corporal Joe Branigan.
"Not mine anymore, Joe. Seems my brother's got a nicer ass than I do." replied Luke glumly.
"Harsh." said Joe. "Cheer up pal, that broad was a bitch anyways."
"Yeah, well, it kinda makes us even." said Luke.
"How so?"
"I cheated on her awhile back."
"No kiddin'?"
"Nope. It was when we were stationed back on Firlori, you remember that blonde nurse?"
"Big boobs blonde nurse, or nice ass blonde nurse?"
"Nice ass blonde nurse. One night, seven times. I felt guilty about it all the way until Erin's letter."
"Well, at least you got some action out of-" Joe was cut off by the exploding of the squad leader's head, torn to pieces by a sniper round. Before anyone could react, automatic weapons fired from the surrounding bushes and trees, cutting down the squad. Luke screamed as a round slammed into his ankle, dropping him to the ground. Soon, everyone was on the ground either dead or wounded. The attackers, rebels as it were, came forward. One of them was John Locklear. Locklear walked amongst the survivors with his pistol drawn. After counting them, he aimed and popped off three rounds, one for each head. Minus one for the prisoner. That prisoner was Luke Zellner.