Author's Note: I do not own Halo or Bungie.
Sorry for the wait...I just moved, so I've been pretty busy. This one might seem kinda rushed since I haven't had much time...
City of Demons
Ch. 2
Corporal Tolk sighed and flicked his smoldered cigarette into the rainy darkness, watching as it twirled a fine trail of gray-white smoke through the air. He rubbed his eyes, grimacing, and stepped into a bath of yellow light, emanating from a sodium lamp overhead. He squinted, sighed, and continued his patrol around the outer wall. His boots clicked on the rubble-and-crater strewn sidewalk, adding to the constant pitter-patter of rain drops as they impacted the street.
A sudden movement caught his eye. It was nothing big; a mere shift in the shadow cast by a twisted and bent metal plate that had impaled the street and dug in. Tolk froze, squinting into the darkness. A glint. A quick flash of reflected light, most likely from the sodium lamp, went off several feet away from where the movement had been. The next thing that happened caused Tolk's stomach to twist into several knots, and his heart leapt into his throat. Right in the same spot as the movement, a small green ball of light quickly formed out of the darkness. It almost resembled—Tolk gasped—An overcharged plasma pistol!
"Alarm!" Tolk shrieked into the night. Spotlights immediately activated with hollow thuds, and an alarm klaxon rang from somewhere within CASTLE III. Right at that exact moment, there were hundreds of thick, dense clicks, and a matching number of oval-shaped, blue and yellow energy shields winked on in the night. Tolk cried out and dove for cover just as the overcharged plasma bolt sailed overhead and carved a divot into the stone wall. Dozens of Elite battle cries echoed into the night, and the sounds of Grunts barking and squeaking accompanied them.
Tolk quickly got up and sprinted towards the main gate as a volley of blue and green plasma bolts shot towards him. He got past, but just barely. He could feel heat blisters grow and pop on his back. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, but he kept on running. He rounded the corner of the wall, and skidded to a halt. In front of him was a gold Elite, a Beam Rifle clutched confidently in it's hands. Out of the darkness stepped a pair of Grunts, needlers strapped to their red-armored sides.
Tolk reached for a grenade, but his hand grasped air. He looked back. His grenade bandoleer was laying on the ground several feet away, fragmentation grenades scattered all around it. He turned back to see that the Grunts had unholstered their needlers, and purple slivers of light were beginning to travel down the shaft of the Elite's beam rifle, where they interlocked into in to a glowing ball. The Elite began cackling, a guttural, booming drumbeat in the night air. The horrendous laughing, however, was drowned out by three quick cracks of sniper rifles. The two Grunts' heads exploded, showering the Elite's gold armor with blue blood, and the huge alien's shields flared. It grunted and looked up, just in time for a sniper round to crash through it's shields and dig into it's face.
Following the white vapor trail upwards, Tolk landed his eyes on three dark silhouettes on top of the wall, who gave him a thumbs-up. Tolk sighed and returned the gesture.
Private Remear ran, dodging a stray plasma bolt, and fired a burst from his battle rifle into the horde of Jackals. He heard one cry out, clearly wounded, and ran harder. Despite the cool, misty night air, Remear felt warm sweat break out on his forehead. He leapt over a dead gold Elite, stepped over a pair of dead Grunts, and bolted behind the slightly ajar gate as a barrage of needles stitched a path into the stone. The cracks of sniper fire and the staccato rattle of mounted chainguns drowned out the sound of rain, as well as the painful cries and shrieks from the Covenant legions on the ground.
With a groaning squeak, the main gate pulled itself closed and barred any intruders from getting within the compound.
Lance Corporal Bennet yanked the steering wheel of the Warthog hard to the left, praying that the tires would be able to grip the mud long enough for the vehicle to evade the fuel rod blasts that would surely come from the two dug-in Hunters. The front tires gripped the wet earth, but the back tires slid in a large fishtail and impacted one of the two hulking aliens. The creatures stumbled backwards and fell, releasing it's powered-up weapon into the sky. The green orb lazily drifted higher and higher until it fizzled out some one hundred meters above the ground.
Bennet heard the LAAG turret swivel and rattle as Private Lindon opened fire on the second Hunter. Bullets danced and ricocheted off the alien's armor plating, few slugs finding the weak breaks in the protective covering. The few times when the rounds did find those spots, geysers of orange blood shot up from the walking tank's flesh. It fired it's fuel rod cannon, the green blast impacted the ground near the back of the Warthog and detonated in a chartreuce mist. Bennet felt the back of the 'Hog lift up slightly, and the right side left the ground, rearing the Warthog up and flipping it over.
Bennet braced herself against the chair and brought her head to her chest as the top of the Warthog splashed into the mud. She heard Lindon scream before she blacked out.
Total blackness. Nothing else. She could still think...still feel pain...
Bennet awoke to the sight of a pair of UNSC Medics crouched over her prone form. One of them held a small capsule of smelling salts, while the other had a roll of medical tape clenched tightly in his gloved hands. Her vision blurred, went out of focus, and cleared again. The Medics were suddenly gone; she realized it was morning. The sun peeked out over the burned and scarred remains of office buildings and apartments, showering the muddy and bloody ground with warm yellow light. Far away, the sounds of mortars and automatic fire speckled the morning air. She got up from the muddy ground and looked around. A battered Transport-Hog was parked several feet away, where three men were passing around a cigarette. Two of them were the Medics that had been standing over her earlier. The third was a man she had never seen before. He was dressed in Marine battleplate, with an M6D strapped to his hip. A submachine gun dangled loosely from a leather strap around his shoulder.
She sat up. None of them noticed. Looking around, Bennet dropped her gaze on something. Something horrible. It was CASTLE III. It was aflame.