Thanks overlord, I read your story. Looks interesting.
I do not own They Hunger or Opposing Force. Both are really cool games though.
Chapter 1:
Green lightning filled his vision. He could not see anything other than the odd electrical discharges. He yelled in pain as the lightning struck him repeatedly. He couldn't breathe. He felt a tearing sensation, not from his body, but from the area around him, almost as if reality was being ripped from him, or vise versa.
Then, nothing. No lightning. Nothing. Just darkness. He could breathe again. Then, he could see again. It was raining. It was in the middle of the night. That's odd... Was it not just day out? He could see a cloud above him. And sunny? The cloud was close enough to touch but it began to rise away rapidly. Looking down, he realized he was falling. What the? Oh shit... Wait a minute... He realized suddenly that he still had his parachute on.
He pulled the ripcord. The 'chute opened, jerking him upwards as his acceleration suddenly stopped altogether. He continued to hold the MP5 in his hands. Looking down, he realized he was not far from the ground. He would probably land in less than a minute. Well, might as well wait... What was the green ball?
He pondered this as he began to land. Trained reflexes caused his body to roll into the impact without the brain thinking about it. He slowly tumbled to a stop. He detatched the parachute from his body. Standing up, he looked around at his surroundings. There were a few trees here and there. The area he landed in was encompassed by short cliff walls, which surrounded a small log cabin. A narrow path was the only break in the cliff walls. The cabin, maybe a hunter's cabin, looked to be in disrepair. Some of the windows were broken, and a section of the wall closest to him had collapsed partially from rotting. The door was ajar.
He placed the MP5 on the ground carefully, and removed a small radio from a pocket in his power vest. Turning it on, he attempted to radio his unit.
"Goose unit, what is your situation, over." He waited a few seconds. "Goose unit, do you read, over." He continued to wait. "Goose unit, please respond, over." Nothing. "Goose unit respond, over." Still nothing. I must be out of range. Probably on the other side of the world, judging by the fact that it is night out... He put the radio back into his vest and picked up his MP5. Might as well try to figure out where I am, exactly.
He walked toward the cabin. He began to notice a smell as he got closer, the smell of something that had died and begun to rot. Probably the remains of the last hunt. He walked in, greeted by a sudden increase in the smell's intensity. He leaned against a wall, getting used to the smell slowly. He turned on his night-vision goggles and looked around. The place was a mess. The tables were knocked over, and papers were scattered all over the area. The walls had large blotches of what appeared to be dried blood here and there. Blood? He frowned.
He walked towards the nearest overturned table. Looking down behind it, he saw a corpse, half-decayed, with multiple lacerations on it's torso and face. Hmmm... He gripped the MP5 slightly tighter and turned to another upturned table, looking for a clue as to where he was. After rutting through the debris for a few minutes, he found a newspaper entitled The Rivendale Times, which was dated August 23, 1952. Must be an old copy... but it feels fresh... Frowning again, he ripped the front of the paper off and stuffed it into a pocket on his vest.
End Chapter 1
I do not own They Hunger or Opposing Force. Both are really cool games though.
Chapter 1:
Green lightning filled his vision. He could not see anything other than the odd electrical discharges. He yelled in pain as the lightning struck him repeatedly. He couldn't breathe. He felt a tearing sensation, not from his body, but from the area around him, almost as if reality was being ripped from him, or vise versa.
Then, nothing. No lightning. Nothing. Just darkness. He could breathe again. Then, he could see again. It was raining. It was in the middle of the night. That's odd... Was it not just day out? He could see a cloud above him. And sunny? The cloud was close enough to touch but it began to rise away rapidly. Looking down, he realized he was falling. What the? Oh shit... Wait a minute... He realized suddenly that he still had his parachute on.
He pulled the ripcord. The 'chute opened, jerking him upwards as his acceleration suddenly stopped altogether. He continued to hold the MP5 in his hands. Looking down, he realized he was not far from the ground. He would probably land in less than a minute. Well, might as well wait... What was the green ball?
He pondered this as he began to land. Trained reflexes caused his body to roll into the impact without the brain thinking about it. He slowly tumbled to a stop. He detatched the parachute from his body. Standing up, he looked around at his surroundings. There were a few trees here and there. The area he landed in was encompassed by short cliff walls, which surrounded a small log cabin. A narrow path was the only break in the cliff walls. The cabin, maybe a hunter's cabin, looked to be in disrepair. Some of the windows were broken, and a section of the wall closest to him had collapsed partially from rotting. The door was ajar.
He placed the MP5 on the ground carefully, and removed a small radio from a pocket in his power vest. Turning it on, he attempted to radio his unit.
"Goose unit, what is your situation, over." He waited a few seconds. "Goose unit, do you read, over." He continued to wait. "Goose unit, please respond, over." Nothing. "Goose unit respond, over." Still nothing. I must be out of range. Probably on the other side of the world, judging by the fact that it is night out... He put the radio back into his vest and picked up his MP5. Might as well try to figure out where I am, exactly.
He walked toward the cabin. He began to notice a smell as he got closer, the smell of something that had died and begun to rot. Probably the remains of the last hunt. He walked in, greeted by a sudden increase in the smell's intensity. He leaned against a wall, getting used to the smell slowly. He turned on his night-vision goggles and looked around. The place was a mess. The tables were knocked over, and papers were scattered all over the area. The walls had large blotches of what appeared to be dried blood here and there. Blood? He frowned.
He walked towards the nearest overturned table. Looking down behind it, he saw a corpse, half-decayed, with multiple lacerations on it's torso and face. Hmmm... He gripped the MP5 slightly tighter and turned to another upturned table, looking for a clue as to where he was. After rutting through the debris for a few minutes, he found a newspaper entitled The Rivendale Times, which was dated August 23, 1952. Must be an old copy... but it feels fresh... Frowning again, he ripped the front of the paper off and stuffed it into a pocket on his vest.
End Chapter 1