Well, this is going to be my second attempt at a proper story. I've been playing a ton of S.T.A.L.K.E.R and reading a ton of MGE fanfics. During the time I've been doing both, I have noticed two things I find rather regrettable. First off, there are not a lot of S.T.A.L.K.E.R fanfics, despite the universe being rich with the possibility of storytelling. Second off, most MGE stories seem to kind of skim over the more messed up aspects of the universe.

Without getting into specifics (We would be here all day), I will simply leave this as such: This will be AU. I will be taking what I know of the lore of both universes, doing with it what I feel would make the story interesting, and running home with it. If you have any issues with how I do this, please feel free to leave a constructive criticism of my work in the comments. Feel free to do this with compliments as well.

That's about it. I might add community add-in characters if this story gets popular enough, but as for now, I am just planning to have fun with this.

I hope you enjoy the story, and feel free to follow if you enjoy it.

(Warning, Google translate was used in the making of this fic.)

(Second warning, I have only finished SoC. I am currently working on finishing CS and CoP. Though with how much CS is pissing me off, I may just skip right to COP and Anomaly. If I mess up a detail, I will fix it ASAP.)

Thoughts

"Speaking common"

—-

Chapter 1

Welcome to the zone

It was another beautiful day in the Zone. The wind was rustling, the flowers were blooming, zombies were shuffling around, and anomalies made life a special type of hell. Of course, this wouldn't be complete without a very special kind of Ambiance.

*Gunfire* *Sounds of running and heavy breathing*

"This is NOT what I signed up for! Why, why did I take this goddamn contract?!"

It was a pretty normal day. It started with another damn nightmare, waking me up (rather conveniently I may add) around the time I had set for an alarm. With about a half hour to spare, I decided to actually sit down to eat for once. Most people wouldn't get it, but in the zone, just being able to sit down and relax was a rarity. You are typically out there for days on end, braving the worst practical joke nature has to offer, not knowing if that shelter you're checking out is still a safe spot, or if it was turned into a slaughterhouse after the most recent emission. Being able to sit down and breathe, to eat and drink? I made sure to take full advantage of the free time I had found myself with.

Pulling out my PDF, I checked the most recent ratings, alongside some messages from other Stalkers in the area. I have to admit, I didn't realize how useful these things were until about a week in the zone. That was my first emission. I got the warning and made it to shelter, but my team? Well, I suppose luck runs out for us all at some point. What a shitty way to go… locked in your own mind, a husk of what you were. Can't even do yourself the favor of eating a bullet. I shook my head clear of the imagery of my team being zombified. That day was the day I truly woke up to the dangers of the zone and realized that it wasn't the grand adventure for fortune and profit that I had been promised. It was hell, and this hell was alive.

All good things must come to an end of course, and my alarm went off, signifying that I needed to get moving to the meet up point. It was a pretty simple job, a joint OP between the Loners and Duty. There's been a group of strange new mutants coming out of the zone, and they've been giving S.T.A.L.K.E.R.S hell over there. Loners managed to get Duty on board with an investigation. Unfortunately for them and fortunately for me, manpower shortages meant they had to find a bit of additional help elsewhere. That, my friend, is where I come in. Mercs aren't viewed favorably in the zone, but I would like to clarify we aren't all shady bastards. I mean, I HAVE done some shady shit, but the money was too good, and I DID feel kind of bad about it.

But needs of the Devil must drive, and they were driving hard enough to hire me on as some extra muscle/firepower. Wasn't a bad gig, a hefty sum for essentially being overwatch, so I wasn't about to complain. Though, not for the first time, I wished I had something lighter than my MK14 EBR. Don't get me wrong I love my Jenny, but she's a heavy bitch, and I haven't stopped for a breather in two days, this being the first time I had any real time to fuck around. Shaking my head clear of such thoughts, I slipped back on my gas mask, and made my way back out into the insanity that is the Zone.

Took me the better part of four hours of dodging anomalies and not getting mauled by mutants, but I did make it with another half hour to spare. I kept to myself, all too aware of the stares I was getting from my fellow S.T.A.L.K.E.R.S. No doubt some of them had buddies killed by the boys in blue and decided to project that on to me. Others are probably wondering if I could be trusted with their backs. I don't blame them, of course. Mercs aren't exactly known for trustworthiness, and more than a few had died by wandering right into a merc squad. So, I decided it would be best to simply keep to myself, not cause too many ripples. Letting a cigarette, I let myself take a long draw before exhaling, letting the smoke take away the stress, if only for a moment. The peace didn't last long before several loners, who had been sending glances my way for some time now, started moving towards me. Now, I've typically had two types of encounters with living, non-zombified loners. First type of interaction, we see each other, chat a bit, maybe share a drink and trade before being on our way. The second type, let's just say there was a reason I slowly moved my hand to my knife.

As they came within five meters of me, they stopped, and one pulled out a bottle of vodka. Placing it and a carton of cards in front of me, he said "My friends and I haven't seen you around here, merc right? Here to help out?" I nodded quietly, seeing no reason to hide the truth. "Good shit then! You're in luck, merc. We have an extra bottle of Vodka and were looking to share. You in?". It was a simple enough request, but I was a bit skeptical. It was not unheard of for Stalkers to be swindled in drinking games, and I did not want to lose my hard-earned cash on a rigged game. I did, however, find myself in an awkward situation. I knew these people would be watching my back in the very near future, and the last thing I wanted to do was come off as an asshole. Relations between mercs and loners are strained at best, so I figured it was better to lose a bit of cash smartly and present myself as a good sport than risk a bullet to the back of the head, or leg if an emission hits. So, with that in mind, I presented them with a cigarette and simply responded "You're on, Stalker. Let's see what you've got".

I'd soon regret those words. To this day, I have no idea how a drunk Slav could outplay me five rounds in a row in fucking poker of all things.

It took another two days for everyone to get here and prepare to move out. We were all given the basic rundown, that there were new kinds of mutants coming out of the red forest, Stalkers from Freedom, loners, and Duty alike were being taken by the mutants and dragged away, never to be seen again. Now normally it's advised to stay as far the fuck away from the red forest as possible as most that go in don't come back out. However, the casualties were mounting, and it was getting to the point where we couldn't just ignore whatever was going on, especially since there seems to be more of the bastards coming out from the forest every day.

A hundred Stalkers were gathered up from Freedom, Duty, and the occasional loner here and there. A hundred Stalkers were expected to go in… less than thirty were expected to come back out. Groups were chosen from experience. You typically had a veteran Stalker leading a group of recruits and novices. It was almost surreal to see how well it all came together. I was placed in a group with, humorously enough, the same Stalkers I lost to several times over.

I managed to learn their names over the time we waited.

Dobri was new to the zone. He admitted to being wanted in Belarus for the murder of his cheating wife, having fled to the zone after hearing that it was a place that could make you disappear.

I mean… they weren't wrong per se.

He expressed remorse over it, and I reserved judgement. We all have our reasons, our skeletons. God knows I have my own fair share. He also admitted to wanting to save up enough to go back home and provide his son a good life. I didn't have the heart to tell him the all too possible reality.

Lubos was the friendly Pyro of the group. He had, quite possibly the most straightforward reason to be here, "I just wanted to set things on fire without consequence" he told me. Honestly? Good on him. He managed to jury-rig a DYI flamethrower, using it alongside a PSM pistol that I'm not entirely sure how he finds ammo for. He seems like a good enough sort, though he has the worst poker face I've ever seen in my entire life.

Jarek was a middle-aged Polish man and didn't really talk much. Mostly gave grunts or short answers as responses. As much as I could get from him was that he left Poland because he was homeless and slipped into the zone because the alternative was to starve in the streets. He favors an AKM and has a knife the length of my goddamn forearm. Personally, I didn't believe a word out of his mouth, but I decided wisely not to pursue the topic any longer.

Liba was a fairly young male from Slovakia, and the one who originally approached me. He serves as their groups marksman and uses a modified SKS alongside a Makarov. I asked him what it's like to have a woman's name in the zone. I deserved the prompt fist to my face. He told me he was a hunter but had to find work to take care of his sick sister. No one know what she had, but he said it was dire. He was drawn in by tales of riches beyond imagination, like many others I've spoken to. Then there was me, some dumbass from New York way over his head. Still somehow better than a good… 30 percent of groups in the zone if you count the bandits.

After our assignments, we were given a few hours to rest up and eat before we had to push out. The last thought that crossed my mind as I went to sleep in order to pass the time was simply "At least this won't be boring I suppose.". Oh, oh how right I was.

Well there we go. First one done.

I'm planning to start off with small chapters, but if enough people like the story I'll probably start making longer ones.

As I've said, feel free to R&R. Any advice goes a long way in making this story better for everyone involved.