Author Topic: The Freedom War  (Read 520 times)

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Re: The Freedom War
« on: March 15, 2018, 11:53:15 am »
Chapter 1: Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here



Wet Red…


Xander awoke suddenly, eyes flickering as piercing white light broke through the shadowy wall in front of him, scattered through new born crevasses. The musk, the smell of smoke and death filled his nostrils as he drew in a deep breath, forcing a labored cough from him. The escape rocked slightly, as if lightly brushed by smooth waves, jingling the bloody corpses still strapped into their harness around him, a rather awful puppet master. Muddy, murky water seeped in through the ruptured hatch, flowing around Xander, mixing with the wet blood of the corpses, mixing an awful velvet concoction that stained his trousers. Struggling, sharp pain burrowing deep into Xanders chest; he unhooked the woven harness, splashing into the deathly liquid before righting himself with the pods metallic walls. Struggling to pull each leg forward, water dragging and permeating his now heavy clothes, he made his way through the broken hatch, and into the bright, blinding light.

Squinting heavily, Xander attempted to clear his vison, the dreadful ringing in his ears doing little to forestall the coming migraine in his future.  Opening his eyes, he rotated from side to side, his eyes observing all around him. A wall of tall, leafy trees arose some ways off, and opposite of which lay some distance black mass. Around him, tall reeds of swampy grasses dotted the horizon, gleaming with fresh dew in the morning light. He reached down to pluck a handful from the murky waters. Rice. 

“Urgh… f*cking stupid arse pod..”

Xander’s head snapped quickly back to the entrance of the pod. The hefty lieutenant that had accompanied him lay resting in the shade of the pod, hand upon the wall to steady him. A deep gash ran across his face, dripping blood every few moments, as if someone had left a faucet almost, but not quite completely closed.

”Where the bloody f*ck are we?”, the man hoarsely utters. His eyes turn, resting on a distance mass.  ”Uh… is that Saruleah Bay City? And is it on fire?!”

Indeed, barely visible, smoke billowed over the distance mass, a funeral pyre set upon the living. Xander squinted, attempting to make out the various buildings, but was abruptly interrupted by a sound, a silencing call from somewhere around him. He turned, suddenly. 

”Shh- you lot, any other survivors? We need to get the f*ck out of here…”
 Seemingly out of nowhere, though perhaps the thrush had hidden and muffled his approach, a uniformed man, an officer of some sorts though more urban, had walked into in front of the crashed pod. At his hip, a service pistol lay holstered, however, his hands twitched over the clasp, as if ready to draw at any moment.

”Who the fracking ‘ell are you?!”, the lieutenant that had come down with Xander replied, rather loudly, leaning in to try and observe the newcome.

”Not so loud you fool! Look, we’ve just escaped the city, and we saw your escape pod come down into the fields. This area is going to be swarming with the,… well,… whatever the buggers are at any moment, you need to run to the tree line with me now if you want to--- OH SH*T RUN FOR IT”, the officer whispered, until his voice rose abruptly. The man had begun to point, decided against such an endeavor, had pulled his service weapon from its holster, and had begun to run for the tree line.

Xander turned to look for whatever had made the man run with such fear, as did the Lieutenant. Not a kilometer out, a metallic object glinting in the morning rays race towards them, hovering, the reeds below it being pushed downward as if some magical invisible beast  bore down upon them.

The Lieutenant turned to run, as did Xander. Whatever bore down upon them clearly wished them no good will. The Lieutenant’s voice became short once more, breathing heavily, running from the coming threat.

”Huff… huff… gotta… keep… runn- ARGPH-….”, the Lieutenant groaned, before a splash sounded somewhere behind Xander. He turned his head sharply to the side, still running for his life, searching for the man. A large lump lay in the water, facedown. Sh*t. The metallic flying object bore down upon them, closing the distance rapidly, its features, sharp, spindly looking guns attached to the front becoming more distinct to Xander.

”Kee.. keep.. huff… running… trees… friends…”, the officer mumbled amongst each galloping step, as Xander closed the distance between them.  A bright light shot past Xander, landing the officer in front of him. A moment past, the officer stopped, hanging there for a moment, as if time had stopped for him. His top half fell away, into the murky water, the gun in his hand flung somewhere in front of Xander. The arterial spurt of blood peppered Xander, staining his clothes further, as if red raindrops had flown outwards in a shower of glistening crystals.

Where had the weapon landed? The murk of the water clouded the location of the gun. Xander reached down, searching… where… something sharp brushed upon his hand. He grabbed, and pulled from the murk the officer’s gun.  Xander wasn’t prepared to go down without a fight. He turned to face the attacker.

The metallic war machine now loomed meters away from Xander, as if it had been carried along by the fantastical trade winds of the open oceans. Its gleaming weapons, pointed at Xander, began to gleam with energy. This was it. Xander pointed the weapon upwards, eyes clenched, before-

”Ratatatatatata”,… something pinged off the hull of the flying death contraption. Bullets? But from where? Out of the thick forest behind Xander, an armored vehicle flew out into the open, ripping up the rice plants as if an oversized lawnmower had forgotten to clean up its mess. Atop, a man rode, a large caliber gun pointed at the alien machine. ”Ratatatata” the gun went. The death machine pointed its weapons away from Xander, trying to shoot the moving vehicle. ”BOOM!” the machine fired, bright light lancing outwards, but the driver, the bloody excellent driver, swerved adeptly to avoid the oncoming fire. Twice more, the alien machine fired, but the armored vehicle remained too fast to hit. Cracks began to appear in the armor of the alien machine, sparks flying. As quickly as it had arrived, the machine flew away, back to the burning city, as if a scared bear being chased by a tiny cat.

The armored van stopped in front of Xander, shielding him and blocking his view from the fleeing machine. A light splash drenched Xander again,… his uniform was utterly ruined. Along the side of the armored van, printed in eggshell white, the name “SBCPD” were inscribed. The passenger side door opened abruptly, hanging out over the marsh. A dark skinned man rode in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, his perspiration evident in the morning sun.

”Where’s Captain Bruse??? Just get in, I don’t think the 50Cal is going to keep them away for long…”. The officer reached out a hand to help pull Xander into the vehicle, a warming gesture given the mornings experiences…