Disclaimer: I own nothing involved with the Master Chief, Covenant or
events in the Halo game. The alien race encountered is loosely based on the
creatures in James Cameron's Aliens. They are my creations, however, my
inspiration I have thanks to James Cameron and his team. Congratulations to
Bungie for a great game, and James Cameron for a great movie!
Halo: The Black Widows
Chapter 4 Crash Course
"ohhhh." Eric touched his head, and bit back at his migraine. He opened his eyes.and wondered if he had. It was just as dark as with them shut. The leather of his seat was torn and beaten, and shards of glass puncturing the seat, and sections of his suit told him his cockpit was open, one way or another.
He sucked in a breath, and immediately smelled the putrid scent that comes with corpses. Wherever he was, there were a lot of dead bodies.
Of course! He was at the Battle of the Grand Canyon. Duh, there's bodies! But, then again, where's the canyon?
Eric searched for his craft's headlamps. They might've been smashed by the impact, but it was worth a shot. He flicked a switch, and got a small flash, then nothing. Dead.
Pilot survival kit. Eric's hand went down from the destroyed console and found the box slid under his seat. Inside, he found a MD-6 solid shell pistol, assorted bandages, a pint whole blood, a flashlight, some batteries, and a bottle of brandy, "Always plan ahead!" Eric said, grinning.
His hand closed on the metal handle of the flashlight, and flicked the switch, "Batteries aren't dead yet."
The area was dark, even with the light. It seemed to be automatically dark, as if nothing could purge it. The walls were wet, and jagged. The place was humid, and hot as hell. Welcome to caves! The pilot grabbed the pistol, stuffed the box in one of his suit pockets, and swung one leg over his cockpit's side. Sliding down the metal hull, he examined the damage.
There was plasma scoring, rock punctures, the works. There was even a dent on the decal he'd painted on! "No appreciation for human art!"
Using one hand to light his way down the tunnel, Eric walked on down. Was there an exit? If there was, was there Covenant there? He was a pilot, not a marine!
Hiissssss.
Eric spun, aimed the pistol into the eerie blackness. Nothing. His eyes scanned, searching for any movement. His ears twitched, exploring for any sound. He stood for many minutes, just searching for that sound, "D'you get gas put in?" Eric asked, with his eyes aimed 'upward'.
Hisssss.
"Prolly just a gas pocket in the walls," Eric said. "Good Lord, I'm talking to myself!"
Eric waited for the sound to repeat at it's interval, proving his guess. It didn't come, "The dark is just fucking with your mind, Eric. Move on," Eric turned and.
Listened. Something dripped! He heard it again, a hunk of slime. saliva, maybe. He heard that Covenant Elites salivated uncontrollably right before a kill. He'd have to look that up, and find out the truth.
Eric dropped low, and spun around.
It pinned him, spindly legs puncturing hands and legs to the wall. They didn't go deep; just enough to grip him without hands. Pain shot up every nerve in his body. Eric grunted and tried to bring the pistol to bear. His hand turned, the skin ripping with the claw in it.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!
The creature tore free, and fell. A wet splash of gore and blood signified the creature was dead. Eric didn't care. Spasming, he fired into the creature again and again, emptying the clip. He didn't stop until it clicked the third time.
The flashlight. It lay a few feet away. He reached for it, and found the pain again. He reached for the med kit.
After bandaging hurt limbs, and taking a bit of the whole blood into his system, he limped over to the flashlight. It lay near a crack. His hand closed on the torch. He brought it up. It lit the ugliest thing he'd ever see in his life.
The corpse of a dead marine. His face was mutilated beyond recognition, and his body was ripped open. Entrails lay in a gray heave across the man's gut, there interior visible. ugggh! Eric threw up on the man's face. The Marine wasn't using it anymore.
Halo: The Black Widows
Chapter 4 Crash Course
"ohhhh." Eric touched his head, and bit back at his migraine. He opened his eyes.and wondered if he had. It was just as dark as with them shut. The leather of his seat was torn and beaten, and shards of glass puncturing the seat, and sections of his suit told him his cockpit was open, one way or another.
He sucked in a breath, and immediately smelled the putrid scent that comes with corpses. Wherever he was, there were a lot of dead bodies.
Of course! He was at the Battle of the Grand Canyon. Duh, there's bodies! But, then again, where's the canyon?
Eric searched for his craft's headlamps. They might've been smashed by the impact, but it was worth a shot. He flicked a switch, and got a small flash, then nothing. Dead.
Pilot survival kit. Eric's hand went down from the destroyed console and found the box slid under his seat. Inside, he found a MD-6 solid shell pistol, assorted bandages, a pint whole blood, a flashlight, some batteries, and a bottle of brandy, "Always plan ahead!" Eric said, grinning.
His hand closed on the metal handle of the flashlight, and flicked the switch, "Batteries aren't dead yet."
The area was dark, even with the light. It seemed to be automatically dark, as if nothing could purge it. The walls were wet, and jagged. The place was humid, and hot as hell. Welcome to caves! The pilot grabbed the pistol, stuffed the box in one of his suit pockets, and swung one leg over his cockpit's side. Sliding down the metal hull, he examined the damage.
There was plasma scoring, rock punctures, the works. There was even a dent on the decal he'd painted on! "No appreciation for human art!"
Using one hand to light his way down the tunnel, Eric walked on down. Was there an exit? If there was, was there Covenant there? He was a pilot, not a marine!
Hiissssss.
Eric spun, aimed the pistol into the eerie blackness. Nothing. His eyes scanned, searching for any movement. His ears twitched, exploring for any sound. He stood for many minutes, just searching for that sound, "D'you get gas put in?" Eric asked, with his eyes aimed 'upward'.
Hisssss.
"Prolly just a gas pocket in the walls," Eric said. "Good Lord, I'm talking to myself!"
Eric waited for the sound to repeat at it's interval, proving his guess. It didn't come, "The dark is just fucking with your mind, Eric. Move on," Eric turned and.
Listened. Something dripped! He heard it again, a hunk of slime. saliva, maybe. He heard that Covenant Elites salivated uncontrollably right before a kill. He'd have to look that up, and find out the truth.
Eric dropped low, and spun around.
It pinned him, spindly legs puncturing hands and legs to the wall. They didn't go deep; just enough to grip him without hands. Pain shot up every nerve in his body. Eric grunted and tried to bring the pistol to bear. His hand turned, the skin ripping with the claw in it.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!
The creature tore free, and fell. A wet splash of gore and blood signified the creature was dead. Eric didn't care. Spasming, he fired into the creature again and again, emptying the clip. He didn't stop until it clicked the third time.
The flashlight. It lay a few feet away. He reached for it, and found the pain again. He reached for the med kit.
After bandaging hurt limbs, and taking a bit of the whole blood into his system, he limped over to the flashlight. It lay near a crack. His hand closed on the torch. He brought it up. It lit the ugliest thing he'd ever see in his life.
The corpse of a dead marine. His face was mutilated beyond recognition, and his body was ripped open. Entrails lay in a gray heave across the man's gut, there interior visible. ugggh! Eric threw up on the man's face. The Marine wasn't using it anymore.