Welcome to the Suck
Chapter 3
Bullets fell like rain and had no indication of stopping. We were pinned down behind a line of center dividers paired together. As it was thick enough to stop the bullets. Our Objective, the bunker, was about twenty five feet to our right, separated by an alley. We had been sneaking up on it from behind. Since Alpha had been caught in the same position we are in now. As we ran down the street to flank them. We rounded the corner and came upon the other side of the courtyard. Staring down another house that had been bunkered down, we were in wide open space when they sprang to life. The gunfire erupted. Shots landed all around us. These Insurgents were smart. None of us had been hit. But it rattled us to the bone. We fire back hauled ass to the only cover we could find, the cramped but life saving center divider.
Kafei and Sheik were right beside me, kneeling down beside each other . Dirt covered our faces. Kafei's natural indigo hair was exposed. His Helmet had been lost when the first rounds were fired. His brown eyes clouded with fear, but determination shone through. Gannon, as we've taken to calling him, popped his head out to survey for one split second. He bunkered back down after a few shots almost hit his head. He grunted in anger while checking his ammo and dispelling a round. His gun had jammed on him again.
The tapioca colored frame stood out against the red sky. They had Alpha in the same exact position as us. It was a stalemate. We were hunched down behind a small wall. We could easily jump over it. But we would get torn to shreds by the insurgents across the street. We could easily throw a few frags in the bunker. But their "Might" be civilians inside. I could sympathize with that. But at the same time, they had plenty of time to get out once they heard the gun shots resound through the city. Guns are not silent. Not these ones any ways. Especially mine, damn thing can be heard for miles. Besides. What kind "civilian" just casually hangs around insurgents armed to the teeth?
I sneaked a peak at the door way. A wire casually hung around the inner doorway. Who ever stepped in there would most likely be treated to a complimentary death. Poor bastard wouldn't even be recognizable.
"HOLY FLYING FUCK FORESTER! YOU SURE AS HELL BETTER NOT BE DAY DREAMING IN A GOD DAMN FIRE FIGHT! YOU SEEM TO BE MAKING A MERRY LITTLE PATTERN OUT OF THIS!"
His voice was like a painful shocking slap in the face . I was back in the moment. More alert than I had ever been.
"I'm Sorry Sarge! It wont happen again!" I yelled back. My head pounding in my ears. I had been lost in my head again. A few tracers went over our heads. A few distinct pings was heard as some of the bullets hit a car behind us.
"DONT APOLIGIZE JUST SHOOT!" He snapped up with the speed of a tiger and shot a few rounds across the courtyard. Judging by the screams I'd say he got someone. But I wouldn't place bets. Screams, gunshots and explosions were just ambient now.
I popped up, my knees protesting the movement with stiffness. My eyes jolted from the green park in the middle of the courtyard to the the men in the window. I pulled the trigger and felt the familiar recoil. The shots tore through the air, like screaming demons out of hell. Shells were thrown out of my gun and hit anything unfortunate enough to be standing in the way, namely Kafei.
I bent my knees to grab some dirt again feeling content with my volley. But I was to late. A man popped up in the top left corner of the two story building. Almost in slow motion, I saw him snap his AK-47 up and fire from the hip. My eyes widened as I felt a blinding spasm of pain tear through my chest. Gannon popped up and took him out in a display of amazing marksmanship. I crumpled to ground writhing in pain and screaming in agony.
"I'm HIT! I'm HIT! FUCK ME!" I screamed in sheer unadulterated pain.
"Sarge! Links hit!" I barely made out Sheiks voice from the sudden onset of pain that had over taken my senses. The hot humid air turned on my lungs and began to constrict them. My heart going numb with fear.
Within seconds, a pair of hands were on my chest. I looked up to see Gannondorf.
"Where?" He asked, the basic procedures that had been drilled into us coming in handy.
"My chest! I think it went through!" I continued to writhe in pain as shock waves went through every inch of my body.. He opened my vest and found the bullet lodged in the plating. He looked at me and smiled.
"Congratulations Forester. You've officially been shot. Your fine now get back in the fight"
"Fuck Sarge, buy me dinner first."
I smiled in relief and silently tanked every god I knew for the body armor. Even though I was still paralyzed me with pain. I managed to throw a comeback out before he got up.
He cracked a smile "Dick" he mumbled as he got back into position and stayed under the three feet of concrete we called a wall.
He went back into his crouching positioned and tried to survey the scene. They had guns in every window , just waiting for someone to pop up. Begging if you will Kafei and Sheik were right beside me still. I redid my vest. But I could barely move. I felt the pain go away though as the adrenaline rushed through my body like a river. Even amidst the hell that this is. The screams of pain we heard all around us. Thee chips of concrete that would pop up and hit us, from the shots that were coming ever closer to breaking through this divider. I was done.
I was done. I was sick of every fucking thing that had gone wrong in the last six months. I was supposed to be a Singer. I was supposed to be a god damn rock star! Playing to sold out arenas and screaming fans! But what did I do? I got depressed and thought I could make something of my life by joining the corp. And I did. I made it a fucking hell.
"Command this is Bravo! We need helicopter support! We are in dug in and entrenched in a stale mate! We are wearing thin! Command throw us a bone here!" Gannon spoke into his headset without screaming for once. Bullets continued to rain down around us as our Sergent conversed into the headset.
I spied across the courtyard through a small hole. A little green garden was surrounded by street and concrete. a lone tree rising up in the middle of the square.
"I'm sorry Bravo, You guys have to do this one your own. Civilians may be in there and we can not afford to lose anymore political favor for this war. The press will find out and there will be more budget cuts. Sorry Sergeant your on your own."
Gannondorf Dragmire was a very scary man when he was angry. He fumed, his arms shaking as if he was going into cardiac arrest. His anger was about to overflow like a corked shampagne bottle. His face contorted into the purest form of rage I had seen. Ever. His whole body shook as he took one huge breath. Before screaming as loud and intimidating as possible.
"THIS IS ABOUT POLITICS? WE DONT HAVE THE TIME FOR THIS BULL SHIT! OUR COVER IS SLOWLY GIVING WAY! WE'LL BE DEAD IN 6 MINUETS! " He paused for a few seconds to catch his breath. The commander began to reply.
"Sergent you-" The commander started, but he was cut off.
"LET'S SAY THEIR WERE CIVIES IN THE BUILDING OVER THERE. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MAKES THEM?! HOSTILES, THATS WHAT. YOUR GONNA HANG US UP TO DRY LIKE THIS? THESE PEOPLE ARENT HOSTAGES! THEIR FUCKING GROUPIES! THEIR INSIDE THOSE BUNKERS WORSHIPPING THESE MOTHER FUCKERS. NOW BOMB THEM ALL AND LET GOD SORT THEM OUT!" Sergent Dragmire was back to his infuriated screams. I would rather be in the middle of this courtyard, dodging bullets. Than be the one his fury was directed at.
The radio cracked back to life almost immediately. "You are in no position to tell me what to do Sergeant. You have your orders. I suggest you follow them. Command out."
Gannon fumed silently. In his pissed off state, he snapped up and fired a few well aimed shots using the red dot sight, his wife bought him, to its full potential.
Snapping back down before he could be hit. Our Sergeant turned to us with fury in his eyes. "The Brass is turning their back on us again., We cant wait this one out until they fuck up like we usually do. Sheik I want you-"
I stopped listening. I was done with all of this. Done with feeling the emptiness Malon left me with. Done with command giving us the short end of every stick. Done with giving up on my musical dreams. I was done with life.
"Forester were you even listening to me?" I heard our Sarge ask me fury already beginning to seep into his voice.
I looked at him straight in the eye. I had officially snapped.
"No sir I wasn't" And before he could kick my ass. I stood up and held the trigger down. My M249 sprung to life, the butt stock slapping against my shoulder in a delightfully painful way. The Insurgents across the street were not trained soldiers. And they made one little mistake. They stopped firing while we were in cover. I guess they thought they could shoot us if we popped up. But I was faster, I was better, I was pissed off. I fired my weapon with the precision of killer. With the aim of someone who has absolutely nothing to lose. I could care less if I died. I just wanted them to hurt.
I sprung across the wall with one hand vaulting me over and kept firing. I ran. Every step slapping the ground and tearing up dirt, I never let off the trigger. Sweat ran down the sides of my face, Shells flew from rifle. But I couldn't feel anymore. At this point my squad stood up and gave them hell. I could hear their screams as the insurgents fell prey to our bullets. I could see the faces of their friends, As their brothers blood splashed over them. Drenching their bodies before they suffered the same fate.
I hunkered down once I got to the back of our objective, slamming into the wall hard enough to knock me off guard. I stood in front of the door. "This is it" I thought to myself
I hesitated for one moment, the sounds of warfare drawing me into a trance. But I wouldn't stop now. It ends now.
"Goodbye to you to Malon..." They were my famous last words.
I Screamed one last time and kicked the door open.
I opened my eyes. The wire wasn't a bomb, it was a power cable. Pissed and actually disappointed. I continued forward into the lobby seeing the insurgents turn around surprised. I wanted to die, and they denied me that. I wanted a good heroic death. But it didn't happen. And it was their fault.
I slid to a knee, bringing my rifle up and aiming through the iron sights. I was a marksman in Boot Camp. And it showed. I pulled the trigger, feeling the familiar jolt, the wild and frenetic waves of motion that ran through my body. I heard their screams as bullets ripped through every piece of flesh they had. I had become jaded. I didn't care about their pain. In fact. I loved it. I wanted to hear them scream. I wanted to see them pay for ever last man we had lost that day. They never stood a chance. Their pitiful squeals and prayers were silenced with a few more rounds. I craved the pink mist, and I was getting my fix. I shot them all until the twelve of them were unrecognizable.
I stood there breathing heavily as the adrenaline wore off. But before I could even take stock of what I had done. I heard a shuffle in the corner. I instinctively swiveled on my knee, ready to pull the trigger and There was a ten year old girl with black hair and tan skin. My gaze softened in horror. She looked at me with wide eyes and a gun next to her.
She looked at the corpse of one of the insurgents and began to tear up. "Baba? She asked in Arabic. Her voice wavering."
I knew that word. She was calling for her father. I followed her eyes to a corpse to discover he was still alive. What kind of sick mother fucker brings their daughter to a war zone? Secondly,
He began to gurgle something to his daughter. And I knew what he was trying to convey. I looked at the daughter. The gun laying a few feet away from her. I couldn't do this. I wouldn't...
"Don't you fucking dare!" I barked to her. But it was to late. She ran to the weapon and picked it up. I tried to let her live. As long as I could, but it was me or her. I pulled the trigger. Multiple times hearing the bouncing shells sing a song of sorrow. I saw her eyes as she died. I looked down at my hands as they shook with fear, sadness, depression, loathing, hurt. It was just to much. I heard the father still alive. Gurgling his last breaths. My eyes steeled. This is what I am. And this is what I had to do.
I stood up, swiveling around to meet him. His eyes looked to me. Conveying hate. But most of all sadness. Taking a few steps toward him. I stopped a foot away and knelt down. I took out my M9 sidearm. I looked into his eyes. This is what I am.
"I am a marine" I spoke the last words he would ever hear in monotone. His eyes still looked at me unflinching. I brought the pistol to his forehead, and pulled the trigger.
I saw my sergeant storm in the door. He surveyed the scene and came to the right conclusion.
I heard the many gun shots resound as alpha moved in on the other bunker. The stale cold air of the night, painfully biting my lungs.
It was then that I felt the many shots I had sustained. Thankfully they had all hit my vest or so I hoped. I looked at the little girls limp body one last time, and I passed out...
--
All right so this was most definitely pushing the limits on the T rating. In fact, this is pretty much M. I'm a very sick person . I'm totally holding back too. But this is pretty much the most violent chapter. I was actually going to post this yesterday. But I knew I could do better. So I crammed in all the descriptive writing that I could without breaking the flow. M rated fics are seriously the shiniest gems and the most well written. And yet no one looks at them! And I'm just to much of an attention whore to not have people read this! The sad thing is most of these stories that I'm telling are actually true. I'm taking inspiration(and ripping things) right out of true events. Keyword being most. I hope the snapping part isnt true. That'd suck.