(Before reading you should know: I told a friend about chapter 1 and apparently the beginning is a copy of Half- Life. Opposing Force. Now, I made it a bit different, but it's still an almost copy. For those who have played Opposing Force, this is NOT going to be a novelisation of it. I haven't played any of the other games, so any other resemblance are coincidental. Though I doubt that, I'm planning on introducing something never before seen in Half- Life (I think).)

Chapter 1: Dam Team Takes A Fall

The residential area of Black Mesa laid in ruins. Most buildings had collapsed, others were badly damaged. Dylan looked at all this as the chopper passed over them. He hadn't seen this kind of damage ever, except maybe in the New York slums. Nevertheless, he had an uneasy feeling of creeping doom.

"Sir, what the Hell's caused this damage?" he asked lieutenant Manners.

"Aliens," Manners replied. "They begun the attack. The F- 22's came by and bombed the place. That's why it's so quiet. Most aliens were killed off in the fly-by attack."

"All right men, listen up!" he called. "We're being stationed at the dam. From now on, we're part of Dam Team. Our objective is to..." Manners' words were cut short when he heard a sound if something had been spit out.

"What the..?" the pilot asked as a puddle of green fluid struck the window. The liquid started to melt through the window and fell on the controls. The pilot screamed in agony as his fingers were covered by the acid. The marines looked out of the windows. A pack of strange quadrupeds were standing on the rubble of what looked like an office building.

The things were obviously not of this world. They reminded Dylan of a monitor lizard, except the head was replaced by a mass of red tentacles. The creatures spat acid from their mouth in unison, and the puddles flew through the hole in the windshield. The pilot rolled in agony on the cockpit floor. Dylan stepped backwards feeling sick as the flesh literally peeled of the pilot's skin.

"SHIT!" Manners yelled as the chopper started coming down.. "Get ready! We're gonna crash land!" he said and started to pilot the falling Apache at the monsters. The copter smashed into the rubble, taking out most of the aliens. The force made Dylan and the others topple onto the ground.

They heard a large jolt as the only surviving acid-spitter jumped onto the ceiling. Dylan heard a sound like a plunger was stuck on a surface, and then a fizzling noise. The marines looked up to see the chopper's mangled roof turning darker and breaking open. The creature stuck it's head through the hole, only to find it's face inches away from Greshwald's M4. He opened fire on it. The creature toppled backwards covered with bullet holes.

"Yeah!" Greshwald cheered. "I scored first hit! Woo!" But lieutenant Manners wasn't that happy.

"Don't bother partying. Now we have to walk to the dam," he said opening the chopper door and stepping out onto an empty street.

"Sir! Can't we just stay here and clear the area of enemy personnel?!" private Stockman argued stepping out with the others. The team's morale was low. They were stuck in enemy territory with no idea where to head.

"Negative, private Stockman," Manners answered. "We're Dam Team. Were need to head out for the dam. No objections."

"Sir! We have a much larger chance of living by staying here! You saw what those things did! It's murder going there!" Stockman yelled back.

"Orders are orders, private Stockman. No objections!" Manners repeated angrily.

"This sucks!" Stockman called and started walking towards the desert. "You know what?! I ain't gonna stay around for this shit! I'm going to the nearest town here!"

"FINE! You do that, deserter!" Manners' face was blazing red. This wasn't the situation for subtlety, and they didn't have time to waste trying to get others to go on.

Stockman didn't have to go far when the enemy struck again. He suddenly tripped backwards as the sand started to rise as a mound. Dylan was in shock. This was just like in that pathetic mummy movie he had seen a few years back. The sand would rise upwards and release a deadly wave of killer beetles that would devour everything in their paths. But this thing wasn't a pack of beetles, it was BIG.

The marines watched, almost mesmerised, as a huge green cord rose from the ground. Stockman looked upwards at it. The tentacle could almost be considered beautiful, and it rose tens of feet into the air. It's end was tipped with a black claw the size of a Jeep Cherokee, which it lifted backwards. The thing released a low hum like a sound a whale makes. The sound made the marines feel more tranquil.

"It's yawning," Manners said to the others. "It must have just woken up." But Dylan, paralysed by fear, saw something completely different. He could see the medieval executioner, lifting his axe behind his head, ready to drop it onto the tied victim's neck.

"Stockman!" he panicked. "Get the hell outta there! It's gonna drop down!"

Manners also noticed this and cursed his ignorance. "Dammit! Henderson's right! Open fire!" he called and the marines pulled up their M4's and started firing on the creature.

If the tentacle even felt any pain, it wasn't showing it. The marines were too late: it dropped down with amazing speed. Time seemed to slow down as the claw plunged straight through the lying Stockman, spewing blood all over the marines. Dylan watched in horror as the still screaming Stockman rose into along with the claw. The tentacle, seemingly annoyed by the small object on it's tip, starting wildly shaking Stockman around, trying to shake him off, but only being able to re-paint the area with red.

The marines continued emptying round after round into the thing, which finally threw away Stockman's tattered body, but their attacks were in vain. Dylan noticed a standing building to the side, and he saw the only hope of making it alive. Using his grenade launcher, Dylan fired a shell into the wall. But luck had ended: the wall survived the blast.

The tentacle heard the explosion of the grenade through the commotion, and struck at the source. To Dylan's surprise, the tentacle did his job for him and punctured a gaping hole into the structure's wall.

"This way, sir!" he called running at the gap in the wall while firing at the tentacle.

"He's right! This way!" Manners called, leading the marines as they ran for the hole. The tentacle was finally showing some damage, and squirmed around hollering awful moans. The marines used this short break in the creature's attack to get into the building.

In the house, the marines finally had a chance to rest. "Take it easy, men, while I call Dam Team," Manners said sitting down and pulling out his radio. The building seemed to be a cafeteria for Black Mesa personnel, filled with tables and chairs and a few pots in the middle table. The marines sat down gloomily onto the chairs. There were no sounds apart from the moaning tentacle which had now lost it's prey. Dylan finally had an idea of how hopeless the situation was: the aliens were much more capable of fighting, and there were so many of them. They had already lost two people, if the pilot was counted. What where they going to do against such odds?

"Dam Team, come in. Dam Team, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?" Manners spoke into his radio. At first there was nothing more than static, but then the transmission started to clear.

"This is Dam Team. Who is this?" the sound came, and the soldiers turned to listen. Sounds of gunfire were heard in the background, with the occasional scream and sometimes an electrical buzz.

"This is lieutenant Manners of the Dam Team reinforcements, sir." Manners answered.

"Manners?! Where the Hell are you?! The aliens are gaining the upper hand!"

"Sir, our chopper was taken out by the aliens. The alien in question was a quadruped with a tentacled face, and the ability to spit out acid."

"Right, a BS-49. We just call 'em bullsquids. "

"Look, we're stuck in what looks like a cafeteria in the northwest. We need to get there, sir. Any help?"

"Well, we haven't got any men to spare, but Patrol Team's gonna head for that direction. We'll contact them to pick you up."

"Right. Where's the rendezvous point?" Manners asked, staring out of a window. He silently cursed at the sight. The noise caused by the gunfire and the tentacle's moans had caused a pack of bullsquids to come by. The thinds were crawling all over the place. Going out would be suicide.

"There's a radio mast about 2 miles away from your position. Get there. We'll call you once Patrol Team's nearby the mast. Over and out."

"Yes, sir. Over and out." Manners said gloomily and kicked the table when the transmission had ended. "Dammit! We're stuck here, way too far away from our target! How the Hell are we gonna get there?"

The marines started to search the cafeteria for any way out. There didn't seem any way out without meeting the bullsquids. They checked under the tables, but there wasn't any hatches. A few tiles were pulled off the floor, but there was only cement under them. One marine looked into one of the pots. That was a mistake.

As soon as he had touched the cover, it blew off, sending a spray off pea soup into his face. The marines stopped to watch as the other pots burst open. Out of them crawled the headcrabs that they had been briefed about. One of the sick things leaped out and at the marine covered with soup. Surprised, he quickly pulled his gun upwards, butting the headcrab backwards. Dylan emptied his clip into the headcrab, but now the other two leaped at the marine. The other one latched onto his gun, which he threw aside, but the other grabbed onto his leg.

The marine fell on his knees in pain as he felt a sharp object slicing through his pants and into his leg. The other headcrab let go of the gun and leapt at the marine, only to crash into the wall in a liquid form as it was met by fire from the marines. The injured marine rolled on the ground as he could feel his leg turning numb from the crabs sedative- like poison, but the pain ended as Greshwald leaped onto the headcrab and plunged his combat knife into it's head. The crab squirmed and rolled off the marine's leg.

"You ok?" Dylan asked lending a hand. The marine pulled himself up and leaned onto the table.

"No... grunts.. uh... here," he whispered but everyone knew it wasn't so. The cut was done precisely, and the pant wasn't shred at all. Dylan pulled his pant upwards, but stepped backwards at the sight. The cut was a tenth of an inch wide, yet it had gone deep like a knife. Manners came over and slightly widened the wound, and everyone could see the strike had gone all the way to the bone.

"Great, now it's even more important to get out of here and to a medic," Manners sighed and tied a piece of cloth around the wound to stop the blood from coming. "All right, we have to search every nook and cranny now! Let's move!"

The marines ran off to look everywhere. Dylan noticed the door marked 'kitchen' and went in. It was still hopeless: there were no exits. The room was small and had an oven, a sink, a washing machine, a refrigerator, a table, and a door which said storage. He opened the storage door, but leaped to the side as a puddle of acid flew at his face.

"Help!" he called and closed the door with his body. He tried to keep it closed, but the bullsquid crashed through the door, toppling Dylan under him. As soon as he realised the creature above him, Dylan started to wrestle it with all his might to keep the acid-drooling mouth away from his face. The two rolled around the ground, crashing into the table. A sharp knife fell from the table, and Dylan rolled around so the bullsquid was on top of him. The knife plunged into the bullsquid's back, which screamed in anger and spat a glob of acid into the washing machine.

The other marines were by now at the place, but lieutenant Manners stopped them. "Don't shoot! You'll hit Henderson!" The marines put down their weapons to watch their struggle. Dylan stood up, holding the squid in a bear hug, but immediately fell backwards onto the sink. The squid's tentacles wrapped around his face as he lowered his head into the sink. Then he noticed a trash compactor in the pipe.

"Guys! Someone turn on the compactor!" he called and rolled around, pushing the squid's head into the sink. One of the marines leapt to the switch and turned it on. Dylan forced the squid's head into the sink, and soon the thing's head started to shred into pieces. Dylan didn't stop pushing downwards until the bullsquid stopped twitching. The he fell backwards onto the floor, breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

"Heh! Way to go, Dylan!" Greshwald called and went into the tiny storage room. A short burst of gunfire was heard and the dead body of a headcrab flew through the door. Greshwald came back with his head hanging. "We're stuck. The storage room only has a small window which leads outside and into the bullsquids. I only found this," he said tossing a medikit to lieutenant Manners.

"It'll fix his leg a little, but we still need to get him to medic," Manners said using the kit's equipment on the wounded soldier's leg. Leaning on his rifle, the marine was able to limp along with the others.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Dylan called climbing up and looking at the molten washing machine. There was a small grating under the machine. "The sewer system! We forgot about that!"

"Stand back, everyone!" Manners called pulling off the grating from the small pipe. Everyone's eyes widened and they ran backwards as the lieutenant pulled the pin off a grenade and dropped it into the pipe. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!" he called diving through the kitchen door, shortly followed by an explosion.

The explosion had revealed a gaping hole into a huge sewer pathway. "I thought they only had these kinds of sewers in Paris or London," Dylan said as he looked down and saw the pipe was at least 100 feet wide.

"It's probably a maintenance pipe," Manners said coming over. "All right, listen up!" he called pointing through a window at a building on the other side of the road. "The pipe looks like it leads over to that building. Judging from the huge car doors, that place is a garage. With good luck there'll be a ride of some kind. We can outrun the bullsquids on it over to the radio mast, so let's move!"

The marines started to climb down into the sewers. Manners took the lead and lit his flashlight. Dylan stayed behind, guarding the wounded marine. He cursed for forgetting to bring a flashlight, so he had to follow the small shine of light in the distance. The soldiers moved in single file on a walkway to the side. Dylan wished he had a light to see if he was about to step into the sewer water snaking around next to him, and to his surprise, his wish was granted. A green flash behind him slightly lighted the hallway.

Dylan sighed with relief, but quickly realised something was wrong. First of all, there was no one behind him, so no one could have lit a flashlight. Secondly, the military didn't have any green flashlights. "Get down!" he called and plunged the wounded marine and himself into the sewer water, just as a green lightning flew over his back and striking the soldier in front of him. Dylan could smell the phosphorus in the air, and jumped upwards to see the silhouette of the largest fear the marines had at the moment: subject AS-33, the alien slave.

Dylan had expected the monster to be larger, but here it was, as tall as him probably. He quickly threw away his doubts as he remembered the lightning attack Manners had described and picked his gun up. "Let's see if your as tough as their hyping about," he hissed and shot a grenade. The other marines had by now realised their current enemies and turned ready to fire. The alien slave dived surprisingly agilely into the sewer water, causing the grenade to harmlessly explode. The marines fired in unison into the water, hoping to hit it. Dylan did so as well, until the next attack came.

A sewer grating burst open to his left, striking him into the water. Another slave crawled out of the pipe next to him, and leaped onto Dylan. The grating was protecting Dylan from the alien's claw attacks, but the thing was strong, and Dylan's improvised shield wouldn't last long. Luckily, the marines took it out, causing it to topple into the waters.

The other slave appeared, damaged from the attacks, and ready chomp on Dylan. Dylan couldn't imagine the surprise the alien felt when a long, sinewy tongue fell from the roof, wrapping around it. The alien struggled to pull itself off, but the barnacle's mighty strength was enough to pull the alien into it's gaping mouth. Dylan crawled backwards and helped the wounded marine up as the barnacle spat out the slave's other half. They continued walking, this time wary of the shadows.

(So ends Chapter 1. Since this is the first real chapter in the story, this is the one that decides is my writing worthy enough to exist in fanfiction.net. So please, if you've read this, read and review, and please mention if I should go on. With good luck, I'll begin Chapter 2!)