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(http://img267.imageshack.us/img267/2182/rpoutercs0014.jpg)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJ942GLkLKU
(// Must of this is going to be a in a third person perspective, along with a few snips of first person journal stuff, if you have the journal IC, pretend that all the third person stuff is written in a first person perspective)
*If someone were to search Mike Boone’s jacket, they would find a journal with a large, red “7“ painted on the front cover, inside the journal are entries upon entries of his experiences in City 7 as well as the mysterious Outlands... and where ever else his story may take him*
Chapter 1:
The chronicles of City 7
Day 1:
Arrival
2015
Location: On a train, speeding towards nowhere... or so they thought
What were these clothes he was wearing? Whats happening? Why is this masked man grabbing him? “Where are you taking me!?†The white masked man said nothing, and instead shoved him on to a train, where he saw his mother being taken to another train. Mike Boone stood up, but before anything could be done, the door to the train closed, leaving him trapped inside. He banged on the door, trying to escape the train in order to save his mother, but there was nothing he could do, the train was already leaving the station. Mike let tears run down his face as he had a silent last final goodbye with his mother, and watched as she became smaller and smaller, until she was no longer visible. He sighed sorrowfully, taking an empty seat nearby, he then put his head in his arms and cried. It was not long before a man about 28 stood next to him, holding the pole to steady himself as the train sped to its unknown destination. He looked down at the crying man and asked in sad voice himself “Whats wrong?†Mike looked up at the slightly older man and replied “My mom... she’s gone...†He then looked forward with a sad look upon his face and said “Me too, kid, me too...†They both remained silent for a time, when the 28 year old said “So whats your name?†Mike looked up at him, and with tears still visible in his eyes, said “Boone... Mike Boone†The man gave a smile and said “Weird, my name is Mike, too, except its Daring, Mike Daring.†Boone smiled and said “What a stroke of luck.†Boone then looked at Daring with a serious look and said “Where do you think they’re taking us?†Daring looked forward again, not meeting his gaze and said “I don’t know, Boone, I just don’t know...†They continued the duration of the trip in silence, awaiting what may be their final destination...
...But it wasn’t. The train slowed to a stop at a station similar to the one they had left, and Boone looked up at Daring, showing fear on his face. “What else have they got left to do to us?†Boone nodded, understanding what he was saying, and stood up. Unlike Daring, Boone didn’t have a suitcase, so all he had were the clothes on his back, and an empty journal he took from his drawer shortly before leaving his home to see the ruins of his hometown. They left the train together, and stared in awe at the as they left the train station, to find what was their new home.
City 7.
“We just arrived in a place their calling “City 7“, I don’t understand whats happening, and I miss Mom and Dad...â€
-Part of journal entry 1 of Mike Boone’s journal
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// I already love it. I hope it doesn't die off like most great journals.
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//MOAR!!
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// I already love it. I hope it doesn't die off like most great journals.
// It will only die off when its done ;)
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvJUPpZ5MLE
Chapter 1: Chronicles of City 7
Day 2: Settling in
2015
Location: City 7 train station
The two men looked at the urban wonder in front of them, it looked almost like any city. Except, there was only one tall building, the Citadel. The citadel towered over the plaza that lead to the train station, blocking most of the sun. The only other buildings were small, with one floor, these would seem more like shops, but for all they knew, they could have been. A CCA officer approached and said with a deeply vocoded voice “<:: Get to the Union Civil Housing, move it!†The officer then pointed to a building with multiple floors and windows, doing as they were told, the two men went to where the officer was pointing. Upon reaching the building, it looked much better from afar, the outside wall was poorly painted, and already had small chips in it. “These guys are shitty carpenters eh?†Boone said with a laugh. Daring took his gaze off the building, and in a cautious tone, said “Be careful, Boone, I don’t think these guys are like the old police...†Boone nodded, and walked to the entrance, with Daring hot at his heels.
Upon entry to the Union Civil Housing, or UCH as Boone everyone calling it that, Boone took into account that the entrance was crowded. It wasn’t a lobby like a hotel, it was a small corridor that had a small, broken elevator with a staircase as cramped as the corridor surrounding it. Citizens wearing the exact same jumpsuit as him were crowded inside the corridor, among all the talking he heard a vocoded voice yelling “<:: Everyone quiet down or I’m ripping your vocal cords out!†Upon him saying that, the room filled with silence so fast, it seemed like no one was talking. Boone stood straighter to see where the voice was coming from, and saw what looked like a CCA unit, but much more stronger looking and was wearing a black and red uniform instead of a white and black one. His mask was different as well. The unit then yelled “<:: The UCH is now your new home, You will live here and no where else, understand?†The room stayed silent as he continued, “<:: I will call off last names, if you hear your name, step forward or I will rip out your spine!†Boone zoned out as he called out names, looking around the room for any familiar faces. He then felt a jab in his side, he looked to the direction of it and saw Daring, who was motioning his head forward, Boone then heard his name being called “<:: Boone? Boone!†He stepped forward quickly in front of the unit, who stood at a good 6‘8. The unit looked down at him and said “<:: Room A-6, move it!†Boone ran up to the stairs to floor A, and looked for room A-6. He walked down the hall at a brisk pace until he found what a door with A-6 engraved on the wall beside the door. Boone entered and closed the door, looking at the apartment, it was bare and had only the things that can keep one alive, stove, microwave, sink, a bathroom, and a small bed. Boone walked over to the bed, laying down on it and pulling out his empty journal, he then took a pen out of his jacket and started writing in the journal.
“Today is my first day in “City 7“, I was given a room, room A-6, its nice, and its my own room...â€
-Part of journal entry 2 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwULwG5JnBk
Chapter 1: Chronicles of City 7
Day 3: Misery loves company
2015
Location: City 7, around the UCH
After finishing his log in his journal, Boone snapped it closed and put it inside his jacket, and left his apartment, as he had an urge to explore. When he got to the first floor, where the big CCA unit was, there was no one there. The unit must of made quick work getting everyone in their apartments, Boone thought. He went out the way he came in and took a left next to an alley, when he heard screaming coming from the alley. Boone, curiosity getting the best of him, went into the alley, following the source of the screams while walking on the balls of his feet, making little to no noise at all. As he got deeper and deeper into the alley, he could make out a voice, a woman’s voice to be precise, all he could hear from where he was at the moment was “Rick!” and then it being muffled by other voices. Hearing the franticness of the voices, Boone broke into a run, bursting around the corner to find a male shielding a female from a black man with a pipe and his partner, a white male with a beard. The woman was screaming for the man, Rick, to protect her, and with that, Boone walked up to the black man with caution, ready for whatever he may do with that pipe. The black man turned to face Boone, the pipe being held tightly in his hand. Boone stopped about two feet in front of him, and put his fists up so that his upper body and face could be protected. The man swung with the pipe in a downward moment towards his head, expecting this, Boone put his arms in front of his face and screamed in pain as the pipe hit his arms, but it was worth not getting brain damage. The black mans partner was distracted, so Rick took that chance to take a swing at his face, as the white man fell over, he said something Boone couldn’t hear to the woman, and she started kicking the man while he was on the ground. The black man brought the pipe up, ready to strike Boone with another blow, when Rick came up and tackled the man from behind, causing him to fall and nearly hit Boone. Boone took the chance to take the black mans pipe while he was down, and then told Rick to get off him, which he did. As the black man got up, Boone held the pipe tight in his hand, and swung in an arch at his face, and gave a slight smile as he felt metal on bone, and the sound of screaming and falling to the ground. Boone looked down at the man, and said “If I see you trying to hurt anyone again, I’ll make sure to break something, if I haven’t already, understand?” The man nodded, and stood up, and broke into a run, calling for his partner to follow, in which he started standing up, despite being kicked by the woman, and ran to catch up with the man.
Boone dropped the pipe on the ground, and turned to the man and the woman, who were both giving him a smile. “Thanks for the help.” Rick said. “Anytime.” Boone replied. “My names Rick, and this is Jenny.” He gestured to the woman that was standing next to him. “Boone, Mike Boone.” Boone turned to the UCH and back to them and said “Lets get out of here before anything else happens.” They both nodded and all three of them walked to the UCH. Boone walked them to their apartment, Rick said “Hope to see you around.” Before entering the apartment with Jenny, when Boone replied “Likewise.”
“Met two people today, Rick and Jenny, they seem like good people, they remind me of Mom and Dad in a way... except younger...”
-Part of entry 3 of Mike Boone’s journal
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// Good read, and I see you're using the format Shownofear used :P
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// Yeah, I feel strangely weird using it, as it was Fear's thing and not mine.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0XpgchQnaUY
Chapter 1:
Chronicles of City 7
Day 4: That one small problem you don’t notice until its too late...
2015
Location: City 7
Over the next few days, Boone, Jenny, and Rick had been wandering city 7 together, learning its secrets and getting to know each other. Boone learned that they were both engaged when the Seven hour war occurred, and they hope, somehow, to get married. Boone thought about it, wondering how he could get them married as he walked to the UCH, when he heard a faint moaning in the alley. Boone stopped at the doorway, and walked around the corner to see a bruised and battered Daring on the floor, bleeding from his nose. He looked up and gave Boone a wave as if to say “I’m fine, no need to worry” but Boone continued to stare at him in shock, and then said with slight anger in his voice “What... happened...?” Daring then looked at the ground in front of him and said “These three guys beat me...” “Who?!” Boone replied with anger much more obvious in his voice. Daring then, almost wearily, said “A black guy... a white man with a beard... and some guy named Joe.. the black man had a pipe...” Boone clenched his fists in anger, the nerve of those men to beat his best friend, Boone wouldn’t stand for it. He helped Daring up and into the UCH, and into his apartment to rest. After saying a bit of a heartfelt goodbye, Boone walked down the hall and outside of the UCH, set on finding the men, and teaching them a lesson they will never forget...
"Some thugs hurt Daring today, they're going to pay for it in blood..."
-Part of entry four of Mike Boone's journal.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tQyP3BVcL4
Chapter 1:
Chronicles of City 7
Day 5: The Showdown
2015
Location: City 7, the Plaza
Boone walked at a brisk pace, trying to find Jenny and Rick for the upcoming showdown. After about 10 minutes of searching he found them cuddling against a wall. As soon as Boone layed eyes on them, he sprint toward them at full speed, which startled them quite a bit. Boone stopped right in front of them and said with a serious tone “I need your help.” The two looked at each other, a serious look on both their faces, and Rick replied with a serious tone of his own “We’ll do it.” Boone nodded, and motioned for them to follow. After a bit of walking, they found the trio in the plaza, laughing as if they hadn’t just beat an innocent man. Boone walked up to all three of them, with Jenny and Rick walking in a V formation behind him, as soon as the leader of the group, the black man, layed eyes on the three citizens walking towards them, he got off the wall and his two companions shifted their gaze to where he was looking, and stood in a threatening stance, ready for whatever the three citizens may try. Boone stopped about two feet away from the man, his eyes narrowed an in angry stare, he said “You hurt my friend, now I’m going to hurt you.” Boone clenched his fists, ready for whatever the men may throw at him. The black man chuckled, bringing the pipe up above his head. Before he could strike, Boone pivoted on his left food and swung with his right food, and hit him in the side with stunning force, in which he stumbled on to his bearded partner. Boone charged forward, ready to take on the two men while Rick and Jenny took on “Joe”. The bearded man looked up and Boone did a right jab towards his nose, and let a grin cross his face as he saw a hint of blood pour out. But he got too over confident, because they black man had used him as a distraction and banged the lead pipe against his rib cage. Boone stumbled to the side, feeling his ribs on fire. The black man then swung again with the pipe towards Boone’s right arm, in which Boone made a painful yelp and held his arm. Rick, hearing the yell, ran forward and tackled the black man from behind, just like last time, and started beating him while he was down. Boone then started a fist fight with the bearded Caucasian male, swing for his face while at the same, trying to protect his own. After what seemed like hours, but was only a few seconds, Civil Authority officers stormed into the plaza, MP7‘s and USP matches raised. The officer with the red and black uniform came out of the mass amount of officers, carrying an OSPIR pulse rifle.
He said with a relaxed and heavily vocoded voice “<::These are the men we’re looking for, aren’t we?” One of the units among the crowd answered yes, and the red and black unit nodded, aiming his OSPIR at the black man, the bearded man, and “Joe” and roared “<:: On the wall! NOW!” The men slowly stood up, and broke into a ran towards the UCH, all the units opened fire, but couldn’t hit them without hitting any of the other citizens in the plaza. The men ran into the UCH, and Boone watched as three units went in after them. Boone started to stand when he felt a fist connect with his face, and saw a white male with no beard, followed by two other males, saying with obvious anger “You got members of our gang in trouble!” and swung again for Boone’s face, in which Boone dodged the attack, missing the fist by mere inches, another fight broke out in the plaza between the six citizens. Before he knew it, Boone was on top of one of the males, beating him senseless. When something stopped the fighting cold. The sound of multiple shots from a USP match.
The man wiggled out of Boone’s grasp and ran with the other men, getting as far away from the three as possible. Rick and Jenny were both going crazy, asking each other if they were alright. Boone didn’t listen to the chatter. Instead staring at the UCH to see three units carrying to the bodies of the men who had beat Daring. Boone grined, looking back at Rick and Jenny, who were still asking each other if they were alright. Boone cleared his throat and said “Thanks for the help, you two.” They stopped talking to each and both laughed, completely forgetting about Boone, Rick replied with a smile “Anytime, Boone.” Jenny smiled and gave a nod, agreeing with Rick’s previous statement. Boone then said “I’ll see you around.” They both nodded and hugged as Boone walked towards the UCH, limping slightly from when he was hit with the lead pipe. He limped inside and into Daring’s room, who was looking out the window at the APC that was carrying the units that brought them here. Boone said softly “You alright?” Daring jumped and turned around, obviously startled, and said “Y-yeah, I’m fine...” He didn’t look fine at all, it looks as if he had gotten WORSE. Boone gave him a small glare and he said “Those thugs paid me a visit, but those CCA units... killed them” Daring almost smiled, and Boone smiled too, saying “Good, that’ll be the last of them." Daring nodded and said “I’ll see you later.” In which Boone replied “Not if I see you first.” and left Daring’s apartment into his own.
“Those guys that beat Daring got what was coming to the them, hehe...”
-Part of journal entry 5 of Mike Boone’s journal
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//Wait he beat your arm with a pipe and you still could fight?
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// He had only hit it once, but decently hard, I would assume it was bruised, but I've never been hit in the arm with a pipe.
On another note, "The Showdown" links up to the backstory used on Mike Daring's CCA app. If I find the backstory, I'll post it, but basiclly the three men came in, and beat Daring, and the three units came and killed all three of them.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yyDZscyf8lU
Chapter 1:
Chronicles of City 7
Day 6: The beginning of the Storm
2015
Location: City 7
Over the next few weeks, Boone, Rick, Jenny, and Daring had noticed a relentless force gathering in City 7. It was the Combine Civil Authority. The number Civil Authority officers was on an all time high. At least five Cp’s were in a sector at once, and that was on a bad day for them. Boone hadn’t like the Combine in the first place, and he thought everyone thought the same. He guessed wrong, people joined for different reasons, food, respect, or maybe because they thought the Combine’s ways were more effective then past life. Right... who could think that? Boone started to notice Daring sweeping the streets, he told Boone that he needed only one more loyalty point to achieve loyalist status, he had received four points for taking down an anti-citizen as well as taking a bullet. Boone didn’t get it, but he wouldn’t control his friends life, as long as he wasn’t thinking about Civil Protection...
Just when Boone thought things could get worse, Daring was transferred to a city called City 18, Boone would hope they would meet again, but they both knew it wouldn’t happen, at least anytime soon. Daring gave a sad glance towards Boone one more time before boarding the train, and watched as the doors closed behind him. He stayed at the station until the train had gone away on its journey, Boone left the station, head down and hands in his pockets. He looked up at the citadel, and said with anger hinted in his voice “I can’t take anymore...” before turning to his right and heading to the UCH.
“Daring’s gone, it looks like its just Rick, Jenny, and me. I’ll talk to them later about blowing this popsicle stand...”
-Part of journal entry 6 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgGRKZ1nmt8
Chapter 1:
Chronicles of City 7
Day 7: Preparing for the storm
2015, a month before 2016
Location: City 7, in the slums
Boone didn’t know what he was going to do, with Daring, probably his best friend, gone, what was there to do? Boone walked down the sidewalk of City 7, head down and somewhere else. Not paying attention, he made a right into an alley, and walked aimlessly into it. He walked through the slums silently, feeling as if it were raining when it was sunny. He saw something that looked like a warehouse of sorts, wanting to get out of the “rain”, Boone ventured over to the warehouse and pushed the twin doors open. The only thing he saw was his shadow against the light of the doorway, Boone continued inside anyways. After walking about a yard, Boone stepped on something metallic, he looked down to see a small sewer grate, barely big enough to fit him through, but it looked like he could fit. Boone crouched down and started examining the grate, looking to see if there was anyway to open, when he heard a laughing in the darkness. Boone shot straight up, instantly alert, when he heard a voice say “You thinking about going out there with no supplies?” A skinny and dirty white male appeared from the darkness, a grin on his face, and a cap of sorts on his head. “Well, are you?” Boone nodded slowly, not getting the man’s meaning. The man chuckled and said “You’ll be a chew toy by the time you get three feet in.” Boone looked down at the sewer grate, then back at the man, and said “Thanks for not letting me go in there..” The man grinned and replied “Anytime, buddy.” Boone put his hands back in his pockets, letting out a small sigh, realizing another path of escape was closed off. The man raised an eyebrow and said “You lookin’ to escape?” Boone looked up and nodded, replying “Yeah, with two others... hopefully.” The man grinned, as if he just scored a deal and said “I’ve got the supplies if you’ve got the tokens.” Boone frowned and thought for a moment and said “I should talk about it with my friends, first.” Boone hurried to the exit when the man said something that stopped him cold “You should get your friends here now.” Boone turned, raising an eyebrow “Why?” The man walked closer to him, and said in a soft voice “Operation: SUNDOWN” Boone stayed silent, waiting for him to continue “Its an operation those Cp guys are doing, they’re going to go around and take EVERYTHING, med-kits, beer, weapons, anything they think you shouldn’t have, the whole kit and caboodle, so if your going to escape, you should hurry and make up your mind.” Boone didn’t wait for him to go on, already pushing out the door and racing down the alley way.
“I’m going to talk about getting Rick and Jenny out of here, nows the time to get out of here...”
-Part of journal entry 7 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oE31xD1b9bA
Chapter 1: Chronicles of City 7
Day 8: The Storm
2015, one month before 2016
Location: City 7, around the UCH
By the time Boone got to the UCH, he was already panting, when he found their room, he actually had to stop and catch his breath before knocking on the door. After a few seconds of Boone waiting impatiently for someone to answer, Rick opened the door, looking as calm as ever. “We have to go!” Boone yelled, still partly out of breath. Rick got a worried look on his face, and out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Jenny peeking around the corner to watch the commotion. “There’s no time! Come on!” Boone motioned them to follow and broke into a jog down the hallway and down the stairs, he slowed momentarily to see if they were following, and continued his fast paced jog when he heard two pairs of feet against wood getting closer and closer. Boone raced down the stairs and pushed open the door of the UCH, pausing once more to allow them to catch up. Once they were out the door, Boone continued heading towards the alley he went in earlier, where the three begin the search of their one and only escape.
After what seemed like hours, Boone found the warehouse where he met the strange man. He motioned them over and, with some effort, pushed the twin doors open. Boone looked inside for the man. Getting worried, he let a soft “Hello...?” Escape his lips, thats when he heard a small commotion, and saw the man with a small knife turning the corner, he raised it high in the air, but luckily he realized who he was, and lowered the knife to his side. “Here to trade, are ye’? Boone nodded, with Rick and Jenny close behind. The man motioned for them to follow, and led them to a decently sized room, with a small carpet in the middle with items Boone hadn’t seen in a long while, and some Boone hadn’t ever seen. The man sat down at one end, and Boone sat down at the other side. The man showed him some of the items and how they worked, small knives, something called “Medigel”, and other things like tools. After Boone, Rick, and Jenny had picked what they wanted, they searched their pockets for tokens, when the sound of an Overwatch vocoder stopped them in their tracks, and then they started hearing not one vocoder, but two, then four, then eventually, six. The man, obviously knowing death was near, lifted a part of the carpet up to reveal a sewer grate. Boone pried open the grate with both hands, until it popped open with a loud creek. Boone looked up at the man, in which he said “Keep it, consider it a gift, and good luck out there, kid.” Boone gave the man a confident nod, and motioned for Rick and Jenny into the sewer grate, in which they slipped though, one at a time. When they finally disappeared into the darkness below, Boone prepared himself to drop into the darkness, when he heard the steady pulse that meant they attached a door breaching charge. The man hurriedly shoved Boone into the hole and closed the grate behind him, and then saw darkness as he lay the blanket over the grate, but he could hear the sound of a small explosion, as well as shots from Pulse rifles as he fell down the seemingly endless hole.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agp6_IqNVLw
Although he hadn’t been falling long, Boone was surprised when he hit the ground and it felt surprisingly soft. Thats when he heard a “Yow! Son of a-” and realized he had landed on Rick. He rolled off Rick, letting out a soft chuckle, saying in the pitch black darkness “Sorry... Rick.” Rick coughed and said “Its fine... just don’t do it again...” Boone chuckled and said “Wheres Jenny?” and out of the darkness, he heard a soft, feminine voice call out “I’m here!” Boone breathed a sigh of relief, and set the backpack down that the man had given him, he smiled once his finger made purchase with a metallic cylinder like object with a small switch attached. Boone pulled it out of his backpack and pushed the switch forward, and was slightly surprised at the light that leapt out of his hands. He ran it around the “room” and saw the dirtied faces of Rick and Jenny. Boone closed the flaps of the backpack and put his arms through the straps, and said “Well? Lets go!” Boone started walking down the tunnel, with Rick and Jenny at his sides, they could hear the echo’s of Overwatch Vocoder’s from above, they didn’t say a word about the strange man who had risked his life for them, and they never looked back as they continued down the dark, smelly tunnel.
“Well, we’re “out” of City 7, now lets see if we can find a way out of this sewer system...”
-Part of journal entry 8 of Mike Boone’s journal
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Epic, my muscles tightened in excitement on he last journal.
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//Bitch make more!
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//Bitch make more!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RIhNeUsT68
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5i-MnIN4IDM
Chapter 2: The Great Escape
Day 9: Bugs
December, 2015
Location: The sewers of City 7
Walking down the seemingly endless tunnel, the three thought they would never make it out, and be forced to live off the sewers, when they saw a light of sorts leaking from the tunnel, Boone broke into a jog, the backpack clanking against his bag. Boone raced out of the tunnel, and turned off his flashlight and looked around at the sight before him. It was a giant room of sorts, with a giant grate in the middle, and two pipes on either side, with a giant stream of brown liquid streaming out of both and into the grate. Rick and Jenny caught up and looked at the room, both as disgusted as he was. Boone shook his head, disappointed that it wasn’t that “Outlands” people were talking about, and continued forward, careful not to get soaked by the waste. Rick and Jenny hesitated and followed behind him, being as careful as he was not to get splashed by the waste, and followed behind Boone as the three slowly disappeared into the darkness of the other tunnel.
Thats when they heard something...
Boone stopped, not sure what he was hearing, and advanced at a more slower and quieter pace, walking on the balls of his feet so that his feet don’t make too much noise. When he got closer to the source of the noise, he could make out the gun fire, as well as the sound of screaming, and something that sounded like squeaking. Boone peered around the corner, and saw bugs, but they were about the size of an average man, they were green with four legs, and wings. One of the bugs that was attacking focused its attention on Boone, turning its ugly “face” toward him, and then eventually its whole body. Boone felt the side of his backpack, searching for the smile knife located in the side pocket. The creature jumped, and used its wings to propel itself into the air, blocking out most of the light as it descended upon Boone. Boone had finally pulled out the small knife when the creature rammed him with its body, knocking him to the floor on his back. The creature stood over him, its face right in his face. The creature reared backwards, getting ready to spear Boone in his ribs. Boone closed his fist on what he thought was the knife, when he realized it wasn’t there. He looked to his right and saw the knife on the floor a mere foot away. Boone reached forward and grabbed the knife, that was when the creature brought its claws down towards his ribs, but Boone swung around and shoved the knife into its neck, in which the creatures claws missed his ribs, and instead scrapped them as they dug into the floor. Boone pushed the knife farther into the creatures neck, trying to either kill it or get it off him. The creature went limp as the knife went in as far it would go in its neck, and slumped to the side as Boone pushed on its neck, and caused it to fall limp next to him. He looked towards the metal door where he saw refugees with MP7's and USP matches, they were fighting off the creatures that looked the one he just killed. Thats when he saw Rick and Jenny gesturing him over in the crowd of people, both with worried looks on their faces. Boone looked to his left and saw a giant creature, with brownish skin with a hint of green, it had small wings but they weren’t big enough to carry the beast. The creature had four legs, like the green winged creatures, except these ones were more longer and sharper looking. The creature looked in Boone’s direction, the triangle like head pointing directly towards him. Boone, obviously too panicked to do anything at that moment, stood still, still lying on his back from the previous encounter with the green creature. The giant creature let out a ferocious battle cry, and then seemed to reel back as it charged in Boone’s direction, head down like a bull about to spear a matador. Boone, snapping out of his trance, rolled to the side and felt the vibrations as the beast sped past him and hit the wall with its head. Boone started standing up, when he saw a everyone that was in the tunnel gesturing him over, thats when he saw a man with his hand on a lever, and the tips of a door in the mouth of the tunnel, which everyone was behind. Boone heard a grumble from behind him, and stole a glance at the beast, who was lying on the ground on its “belly” looking at Boone, almost annoyed, the beast shook its head, as if shaking itself awake, and turned towards Boone. Boone didn’t wait any longer, and burst into a sprint towards the mouth of the tunnel. He heard a the screams of people screaming, the people yelling at him to run, and the creature making another battle cry as it charged towards him. Boone saw the man at the lever throw the lever down, he jumped on his back, and let the momentum of his previous running slide him across the floor, he felt the vibrations of the creature right behind him, and heard the sounds of chains as the door started closing. Boone slid under the door, metal teeth of the door missing him by mere inches, and the sound of flesh against metal as the creature rammed its head into the door, leaving a dent. A cheer went up from the small crowd, and Rick and Jenny stood at the front, smiling and clapping. Boone smiled himself as he stood up, dirty from sliding on the floor, and was barely up when he was receiving high fives and pats on the back. He walked over to Rick and Jenny, and the three of them and the crowd went down the dark tunnel together, Boone took out his flashlight, and guided the way down the tunnel.
“Sure wish I had asked that strange man for a gun before I left, I was almost dead meat today by these... bugs...”
Journal entry 9 of Mike Boone’s journal
-
Nice story, good theme, interesting, etc,. :)
Keep it up Dark, I'm really enjoying it.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7YMyNqJGd0
Chapter 2: The Great Escape
Day 10: Not-so-friendly hosts
December, 2015
Location: Sewers of City 7
After what seemed to be an hour of walking down the dark tunnel, Boone started to see a faint light at the bottom of the tunnel, hoping it would be some sort of safe haven, he rushed down the tunnel, to be more or less right. It was a tunnel that went straight out for what seemed like miles, but it probably seemed that way because of the lack of barrels that made light because they were burning, there was a small hut with a fire burning out of a barrel, with people surrounding it. Boone and the group of people walked over, and he could seem some of the people looking over and getting scowls on their faces. Boone slowed to a stop in front of the fire, by then everyone at the fire had been focusing on him. Boone looked around nervously, finally breaking the ice with a “Hello...” One of the men in the group said “We don’t need more mouths to feed, we’re low enough on supplies as it is.” A woman in Boone’s group said “We’ve got supplies! We just need a place to rest!” The man nodded, and said “We’re not sharing supplies, so don’t come to us for food.” The man went into the hut, followed by the group that was huddled around the barrel. Boone watched them go, a sense of anger rising up inside of him as he watched them go. How could they be like that? When they were in this together. Boone let out a troubled sigh and picked a spot on one of the pieces of card board that were thrown around. Boone lay on his back and looked up at the top of the tunnel, and then to his left to see Rick and Jenny, laying on one piece of cardboard, Boone rummaged through his jacket and took out his journal, which was looking a little worn from all its been through. Boone took out his pen, and wrote in the journal silently, the only light he had to work with was the fire coming from the barrel.
“Well, we found a “camp” of sorts today, the hosts are uh... interesting.”
-Part of journal entry 10 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4tgH6FIwow
Chapter 2: The Great Escape
Day 11: Into a Million, Tiny, Pieces
December, 2015
Location: Sewers of City 7
He awoke with a start when he heard screaming and gunfire. He sat straight up, still blinking the tiredness out of his eyes when he heard the squeaking sound that means those bugs are near by. Faintly, among all the chaos and gunfire, he could hear Rick yelling “Boone! Antlion!” and the sound of wings fluttering closer and closer. Boone took the small knife out of the side of his backpack that was laying next to him, and rolled until eventually he was in a crouching, and then into a standing position, all in one fluent motion, holding the knife in his hand in a ready-to-strike position. By now Boone could see, and saw that the “Antlion” had missed by mere feet, and was sitting right where Boone was laying, the antlion pounced forward, in which Boone sidestepped quickly, and picked up his backpack, heaving it over his shoulders and putting his arms through the straps. Boone burst forward to catch up with the mass of people that were running down the tunnel, the tunnel was getting darker, and all that could be seen was the backs of the people in front of him as the light got farther and farther away. He could hear the sounds of Antlion’s getting closer and closer by each passing moment, no matter how fast they had ran. By now, people had started slowing down, and Boone had started slipping in front of some of them, to get as much between him and the antlion’s close behind. He saw Rick’s head bobbing up and down a few feet ahead, and assumed Jenny was with him. This was mistake #1. Boone had noticed that he was about halfway into the crowd of people, and saw the teeth of a metal door in his view up ahead. Boone quickened his pace, and was the last one in the door, or at least the last one of the group that was ahead of the slower group, that was probably being torn to pieces. He had turned to see a lone female figure running towards them, with a giant Antlion trailing behind her. The light from the barrel gave enough light to reveal that it was Jenny, and the antlion behind her was the giant Antlion from before, the dirty underside, the muddy claws, and the flattened face. Boone heard screaming, and turned to his right and saw a man at the switch, Rick pushed Boone out of the way and ran towards the exit of the door, the man threw the switch down, and the door snapped shut, the last thing being seen was Jenny running towards the door, holding her right hand out as the Antlion got ever so closer. Rick stopped as the door shut in front of him, separating him and Jenny, and jumped back as a small dent was made in the wall, followed by a shrill female scream.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JXORDZt5Rfk
Rick dropped to his knees in front of the door, the sounds of Jenny being killed by the Antlion being clearly audible from the other side. Rick stared at the ground, tears escaping his eyes, Boone pushed himself out of the crowd, and approached Rick slowly, feeling just as ripped apart as he was, He crouched down next to him, and put his arm on his shoulder, staying silent as the sounds from the other side began to diminish. “It’s going to be alright.. Rick..” Boone said, not believing it himself. Rick shook his arm off, and remained on the ground, still not moving or responding. Boone took his arm, and hoisted him up, and guided him down the tunnel with the crowd, leaving Jenny, and anyone else who was behind that gate, behind. But not forgotten.
“Jenny’s dead, Rick’s been torn apart, I don’t think he can make it...”
-Journal entry 11 of Mike Boone’s journal
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*sniff* brings a tear to my eye
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YlxbVJHGMic
Chapter 2: The Great Escape
Day 12: Losing the Second Half of the Yin-Yang
December, 2015
Location: City 7 sewer outskirts
He had allowed himself some sleep when they arrived in the next camp, this was the last the camp until they were officially in the outlands, they would still have to go through the sewers, but they would technically be out of City 7. He had set Rick down next to him, hoping he would go to sleep. He awoke to the sound of chatter, and looked to see Rick drunk beyond belief. Boone stood up and stretched briefly, before walking over and grabbing Rick by the shoulder, in which Rick responded with a sharp punch to the face. Boone stumbled and felt his cheek, stinging and red, Boone looked up and saw that Rick was very drunk. Presumably to forget about what happened prior. Boone straightened and said “Rick, this is no way to forget about what happened to Jenny.” Rick stumbled around and said “Yess.. it is...” Boone grumbled, and was about to say something else, when something stopped him cold. He turned slowly to his left, seeing out of the corner of his eye everyone turning as well, and thats when he saw the Antlion that killed Jenny burst through the darkness, running with its claw digging into the ground, and sending dirt flying behind it, Boone dived out of its path, and heard a sickening crash as it smashed into the bar, he looked up and to his left, to see the Antlion causing havoc inside the small bar, it started destroying what little the bar had, the stools and the table, as well as the lanterns. Boone saw something on its claws and head that made him know, that it was the antlion that killed Jenny. Along with the dried mud on its stomach and slightly flattened face, its claws and head were a dark, bloody red color. There was no mistake, it was the antlion that sealed Jenny’s fate, and Rick, in his drunken state, must of known as well, because he charged at the antlion, with a broken beer bottle in his hand. The Antlion dipped its head down, and then came back up and hit Rick in the stomach with its head, causing him to fly back on his back, he dropped the bottle and Boone watched where he was as the bottle rolled along the floor, out of Rick’s reach.
The Antlion slowly walked over to where Rick lay, as if savoring the moment, Rick stirred, and he could hear the worried breathes that were coming from him. He was clear in Boone’s view, Boone watched helplessly, watching as the Antlion stood over Rick, and brought its right claw up in a very dramatic manor, and brought it down violently into Rick’s stomach, Boone cringed as Rick let out an ear splitting scream of pain, he held the claw in both hands, and shook as blood started pouring out of him, he lay on the floor and looked to his left at Boone, he didn’t say anything, the terror in his eyes were enough to signify that he wanted help. Boone shook, unsure of what to do at this point, the Antlion ripped its claw out of Rick’s stomach quickly, in which Rick let out another painful scream. Intestines hanging and blood dripped from its claw, it adjusted its claw until it was over Rick’s head, Rick took his eyes off Boone, knowing nothing could be done, and looked at the antlion and yelled “D-do it! Yo-you fu-fucking over grown m-maggot!” The antlion made an angry growl, and brought its claw down on Rick’s face, the sharp end penetrating his skull, Boone looked away as it penetrated, and then after a few seconds, looked back to see Rick’s head missing, and bone and brain fragments littering the floor where his head was. Boone shook violently, and felt hot tears of both rage and sorrow fall down his cheeks, he started to stand, and was about just about to charge at it, when a man got his attention and yelled “Quick! Run!” Boone shook his head quickly, ridding himself of most of his blind rage, and in a desperate feat, ran right past the Antlion, the antlion let out a low, but loud, growl before chasing after Boone, or the man that told Boone to run. He ran past the man, and seconds later as he ran down the darkness, heard growling and screaming as the antlion most likely tore him apart. Ahead, Boone could see a light, it was green in color, and as Boone got closer, he discovered it was the green sewer water reflecting off the little natural light that came in, giving the room a greenish look to it. He saw a metal grated bridge ahead of him, held up by cables, and saw a lever on the other side, Boone heard a growl behind him, and turned to see darkness behind him, but he could hear the sounds of its claws against the dirt, and the growls it makes when it grows closer to its victim, Boone raced across the bridge, using all of his remaining energy to make it across, he stopped at the lever, and grabbed it desperately with both hands, he looked up, and saw the antlion’s figure becoming more and more visible as it came closer into the light. Boone rotated the lever in a clock-wise direction, and watched with hope as the ropes pulled the bridge up, denying access to anyone, or anything, that tried to cross, and instead giving them a long drop to their death. By the time he had finished rotating the lever, the Antlion raced into the chamber, only to find no bridge, and put its claws out in front of it to stop itself, only barely going over the edge into its doom. He could see the antlion through the grate, and let a smile cross his face as it let out another hostile growl. Boone looked down, and saw a red crowbar laying at his feet, he picked it up with one hand, holding the lever with the other, and jammed the crowbar into the gears, to stop the bridge from falling and giving access to the antlion. Boone looked at the antlion, panting, and said “We will meet again, and when we do, I’m going to kill you...” The antlion made a growl, this one sounding just as hostile as the last, and it turned around and raced into the tunnel behind it. With that, Boone turned, and went into the tunnel opposite the antlion went in, hands in his pockets, head down,
and alone.
“Rick’s dead, looks like its just me now...”
-Part of journal entry 12 of Mike Boone’s journal
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// Nice entries, I enjoyed reading these.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aYYgsdg-T7M
Chapter 2: The Great Escape
Day 13: Vengeance
January, 2016
Location: City 7 Sewer Outskirts
Boone walked down the dark tunnel, by now he had gotten thirsty, and his lips were dry, he was staring at the floor with his hands in his pockets, walking down the tunnel slowly as his shoes made soft crunching noises against the floor. Eventually, he could see light bleeding on to his shoes, he looked up and saw an outpost, supposedly the last outpost until he was in the outlands. He took his hands out of his pockets and quickened his pace, set on finding water. There was a man at the counter, noticing Boone for the first time, he said “Need anything before continuing into the outlands?” Boone turned to face him, and said “Water...” The man nodded, and took out a clear bottle of water, Boone took it off the counter, not caring if it were Breens water or regular water. He downed the contents of the bottle and set it on the table, surprised to find the water tasting like it did before the war. He wiped his lips, and stood up, heading to the small fire. A man turned his way, he was wearing a wool cap as well as a CCA combat vest. Boone stopped and looked at his vest. “Where’d you get that vest?” Boone asked. The man grinned and said “From a Civil Protection unit, how else?” Boone looked like he was going to say something, but then stopped, and just shook his head, getting up close to the fire and laying down on a piece of cardboard before going to sleep.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kv6jQmQStjc
He awoke five hours later, hearing the ever so familiar sound of gunfire and antlions. He rolled on his stomach, and pushed himself on to his knees, and then on to his feet, he reached backwards, into his backpack’s side pocket, and produced his rusty knife, and held it in his hand as he looked to see antlions attacking the small outpost, the man in the vest had an MP7 out and was firing at the green creatures, there were others without vests firing with a variety of weapons. One of them flew over the vested man towards him, Boone sidestepped out of the way, and watched as it landed with a loud thud as its claws dug into the ground where he was. Boone reeled back, and swung a kick towards its face, the antlions head moved to the side from Boone’s kick, with it stunned, Boone brought the knife above his head in both hands, and brought it down into the antlions head, the antlion made a dying squeaking sound as the knife penetrated its skull, the creature stirred a moment, and then went limp, Boone pulled the knife out, dripping in antlion blood and brain matter. He heard a loud growl, and turned to see his old friend, the giant antlion that had killed his two friends, with a muddy underside and bloody claws and head, it was a force to be reckoned with. The antlion was killing the refugees one by one, but with the combined fire, Boone noticed, it was bleeding from its mouth. He realized slowly, with the combined fire, that it was weakening, Boone stood a distance away, knife at the ready. The antlion slaughtered the people living in the outpost, until it’s “eyes” rest on the vested male, he fired a burst from his MP7, the creature charged and hit him square in the ribs, causing him to fly back and hit the wall. The man let out a scream of pain as he made contact and slide to the floor, he produced a USP match from his waistband, and start firing at the creature again, some of his shots missing from being hit so hard. The antlion, going into a bit of a rage, ran full speed at the wall the man was laying at, and rammed him into the wall, the man slumped forward, his USP match falling out of his fingers, the antlion rammed the now dead body into the wall multiple times before stumbling back and falling down on its belly, making loud breathing noises as it tried to regain its strength,
while at the same time losing blood. The antlion slowly turned its head towards Boone, the creature let out a loud growl, trying to get to its feet, but failing, the creature was crippled, and Boone took his chance, sprinting towards the antlion, knife held tightly in his hand, he burst forward, and slashed the knife across the front of the antlions face, in a blinded rage, Boone brought the knife, and thrust it into its throat, and pulled the knife back towards him to make the cut much more wider, the antlion was howling in pain, kicking around, trying to hit Boone. Boone forcefully brought the knife out, the antlion howled in pain once again, its head looking up as Boone stood over it. Boone brought the knife over his head in both hands, the antlion rested its head on the ground, knowing it was over. Boone brought the knife down with all of his strength, into the antlions head, the antlion let out a great howl of pain, the howl died down, until it stopped completely and the antlion went limp. Boone backed away, not bothering to take the knife out of the antlions head. Boone brushed off some of the antlion blood that had accumulated on his jacket, and turned on his heel, towards the tunnel, contempt on reaching the outlands.
"Killed my first, uh, Guard is what they call it, yeah..."
-Part of journal entry 13 of Mike Boone's journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agp6_IqNVLw
(// Yes, I know I used this song already, but I'll probably be re-using a lot of the songs I use, so dealwithit.jpeg
Also, these journals will be made from the best of my memory from when the outlands server was put up, so not all these journal entrys will be 100% true)
Chapter 3: The Outlands
Day 14: Party of One
January, 2016
Location: City 45, Outer Canals
After days of walking through the sewers, Boone, along with refugees from City 8, were in a small, sewer room. Water up to their shoes, they had just come out of a small pipe, and to their right was a long, dark, tunnel. The woman in the group turned and walked down it, Boone and the rest of the small group followed. Eventually, light could be seen. Boone sprinted past the woman, and for the first time in a long time, he saw the sun. The warmth against his clothes, the bright, yellow color it emitted. Boone, for the first time in a long time, felt a ray of hope. He let the group catch up, and followed them for a time. After a bit of walking, the woman stopped, and asked some of the refugees to leave the group, including Boone. Boone decided not to argue, and went off alone.
Boone managed to find a radio after a time, although it needed a frequency in order for him to stay in touch with someone. He let out a long sigh, and walked into a warehouse, with a white “2“marked on the side, Boone stopped at the closed garage door, looking to his left, he saw a small switch, he pressed the button on the top, and the garage lifted up, revealing a large room full of boxes. Boone walked in, and pressed a similar button on the inside, and the garage snapped shut behind him. He slide down on the floor, remembering Rick, Jenny, and Daring. He missed all three, and wished they were here with him. But he knew it would never happen. He dug in his jacket, and pulled out his journal, and his pen. His journal was looking worn and dirty from the journey over here, Boone opened the journal to a fresh page, and started writing down the adventures he had.
“Finally arrived in the outlands, although, its no fun without Rick or Jenny here... or Daring...”
-Part of entry 14 of Mike Boone’s journal.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjcBENjxgig
Chapter 3: The Outlands
Day 15: Whiskey, Freedom
January, 2016
Location: City 45, Outer canals, Warehouse #2
Boone tucked his journal in his jacket, along with the pen, and stood up. He walked to the garage button and slammed the button, and ducked under the garage before it was done opening, and then punched the button on the outside as he left. Boone stopped, hearing the distant sounds of a hunter chopper. He looked to his right, and saw a bit of a concrete “hill” with a hollowed center that led to the muddy canals below, Boone didn’t want to go back into the canals as he just got out of them, but the sounds of the chopper grew ever closer, Boone hopped up on to the concrete, and vaulted down into the mud below, and turned around to sprint into the pipe that led into a small sewer system. He stopped after reaching a small room with flattened cardboard boxes on the floor. On the floor, was a piece of a paper with something scribbled in the middle. Boone bent down at picked it up, examining the scribble, it read “153.3“ Boone thought for a moment and pulled out his radio, setting the frequency dial to 153.3, he held the transmit button, and said “Anyone.. copy?” Just as he said, the sound of OSPIR shots rang out above, and the sounds of screaming, both from above and his radio. Boone groaned, sitting down on the floor against the wall, radio held loosely in his hands, he started to drift into a troubled sleep, despite the OSPIR shots and the sound of vocoders above...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BC1v5W5k5XQ
He awoke a few hours laster, startled as he heard “Hello? Hello!?” Coming from his hands, he realized it was radio, and said “Y-yes yes, I hear you!” The voice replied “Oh god finally!” Boone let a small smile creep across his face, as he talked with the voice on the radio, eventually, more people started getting on to the frequency, they discussed why they were out here, where they were from. Eventually, someone suggested a “codeword” to say if they saw each other, as a safety thing. Someone suggested “Whiskey” as the challenge. Boone heard many suggestions over the radio for the other word, when Boone said into the radio “Freedom.” Everyone stopped talking, and he could hear them talking over the radio, sounding as if they were agreeing from all the excitement going on the frequency. Someone started yelling for everyone to shut up, the man then said “Alright, its settled, the challenge is ‘Whiskey’ and the response is ‘Freedom’.” Everyone yelled out in agreement, and Boone switched the radio off, sitting back in the darkness as he thought of the challenge and response, Whiskey Freedom.
“FINALLY found a frequency, with people on it, came up with a challenge and response code, whiskey is the challenge, freedom is the response.”
-Part of journal entry 15 of Mike Boone’s journal
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I think i jizzed a little...
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More.
Nao.
Please.
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I think i jizzed a little...
// Thats... slightly disturbing...
Glad to see I made you... jizz... I guess XD
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Moar? :-[
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// Dun worry, I'm still working on them, but I've run into a slight bump regarding what happened in Outlands long ago, so I'm asking around about it.
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbwjA0UWWZQ
Chapter 3: The Outlands
Day 16: Vortal Meeting
Feb. 2016
Location: City 45 Outer Canals
It had been a long while since Boone had written in his journal, friends have died, went missing, or worse. He walked down the dark tunnel, alone with his hands in his pockets, he turned the corner, he wasn’t paying much attention until a loud growl caught his attention. He looked up, seeing a snarling antlion guard, he slowly took his hands out of his pockets, hoping that the beast hadn’t, by some miracle, had not seen him yet. The guard let out a vicious roar, it reeled back, and charged forward, its claws sending dust from the road flying behind it, Boone tensed, and waited until the guard was fairly close, he then dived out of the way, scrapping along the road against his arm, he watched as the antlion charged past him, and rammed into the concrete wall, a sickening crack was heard, and on the wall was a spider web of cracks. Boone quickly stood up, sprinting out of the tunnel, he saw another tunnel in his view, with two, iron double doors to his right. He grabbed a hold of both handles, and pulled back on them forcefully, they didn’t budge, and Boone cursed loudly at his unlucky nature. He turned back to the tunnel, where the guard was just walking out of the tunnel, shaking its large head from side to side. Boone looked franticly around for an escape route. The antlion must of noticed him, because he could hear the aggressive growl to his left. The only escape route Boone saw was in front of him, over a railing into the canals below. He heard claws against concrete, and loud, angry puffing starting to get closer. He broke into a full sprint towards the railing, and vaulted over it, he felt the vertigo as his feet got closer and closer to the mud below, he landed on his feet, stumbling and falling face first in the mud. He picked himself up, dusting some of the mud off his jacket and his pants. He looked at the ground, seeing an arrowhead shaped head on the ground, he looked up, and saw the antlions head as it searched for Boone, but it must of been too stupid to look down. Boone smiled, baffled that the antlion couldn’t see him. The antlion turned, and trudged else where. Boone took the chance to run, limp rather down the canals, where he remembers a small facility like area that could protect him from the antlion.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CyMZycKzpNs
He slowed to a stop as he arrived at the ladder, he climbed up slowly, stopping at the top to do a 180 turn, and land on the metallic walkway, he had a strange feeling about the shelter ahead, but he shook the feeling away, and walked down the walkway. He entered the dimly lit room, where a few refugees were sitting around, he turned to his left, and quite nearly shit his pants, it was a green alien being, with smooth skin and a hunched back, with two claws on each of its “hands†and hooves for feet. Boone made a quick breath, and he unslung his MP7, aiming it at the alien being. The being must of heard him, because it turned, and its four red eyes focused on the barrel of his MP7. The alien merely scoffed, showing no fear, at least on the outside, of the weapon being aimed at it. Boone could feel himself shaking, but kept his aim on the being. The alien didn’t bother with small talk, and instead brought it’s claws together, a green aura being brought into them. Boone pulled the trigger, the MP7 making an audible *click!*, signaling that the gun was empty. Boone slowly lowered it, looking down at it, and mumbling a soft curse word, as he took a few nervous steps back, slinging his weapon, he put his hands in front of him, pleading to the creature “Pl-please, I-I..†The creature merely shook its head, bring its claws apart, the aura being turned into two separate strips as it pulled its claws apart, like gum when you stretch it out, it then brought its claws forward. “Please, no!†Boone pleaded, but the creature released a green stream of energy into his torso, and then everything went black.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RccLY1xWPz8
He awoke a short time later, lying in the mud of the place he once was, he stood up, feeling groggy. He heard noises from above, like gun shots of sorts, he saw a boxes stacked a top each other, Boone quickly ran behind them, and instead ended up toppling over them, making quite a racket. He put his hand on his forehead, trying to stop his head from spinning, when he saw a vested male on top of the walkway, he gestured for Boone to come up, Boone pushed a box off him, standing up slowly, he ascended the ladder, and reached the walkway. He felt as if he had seen the walkway before, the man gestured him to follow, Boone did so, and walked back into the dimly lit room. He saw the citizens sitting in the same spots, they gave him weird looks, he tried to figure out what was going on, he turned to his right, and saw the creature, thats when it came flooding back to him. He took a step back, and turned to a bald male who was watching the creature, Boone leaned in, “I-its on our side, right?†The man looked at him, and nodded. Boone face palmed, feeling idiotic for nearly shooting someone on his own side. The man gave a slight smile, waving him over towards the creature. Boone walked behind him, and slightly shook as the creature turned, and realized who Boone was, he gave a slight glare, but didn’t do much else. The man explained how what had happened between him and the creature had been a mere mis-understanding. The creature stood quietly, listening to the man. When the man finished, they both turned to him, in which Boone confirmed what the man said, finishing with “I-I really am sorry..†The creature lessened the intensity of its glare, “If it wishes to prove its apologetic, it shall have to do so, at another time..†The creature said with a deep, scratchy voice. The creature turned, and headed towards the door. The man gave a shrug, and said “Gotta start somewhere.†Boone nodded, taking a seat on a couch. The men talked for a bit, the fighting raging outside. He heard something against the door, and then saw the door fly into the stove, scrapping against the ground as it rest on the ground, burnt and destroyed. Boone looked to his left, and a three legged creature sprang out of the darkness, the creature was covered in a turquoise shell, and pale white skin could be seen through the small cracks in the armor. It turned to face him, the compound eyes focusing on him, it let out a flurry of sharp projectiles, two stuck to his chest, and exploded. Boone fell to the ground behind a desk, the others received the same. He crawled along the ground as they were being fired at, he only managed to get to the walkway, before the creature kicked him off the ledge, on to the ground below. He landed hard, things go black for a bit. He saw a pair of hands reaching for him in the darkness, and then felt himself being dragged into the light, then he slipped into the darkness.
-
Just amazing Dark, I really love it.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hl5xbFXrFU4
Chapter 3: The Outlands
Day 17: 28 hours later...
Feb. 2016
Location: Outer Canals, somewhere in the sewers
Boone’s eyes fluttered as he felt a shearing pain rip through his skull, he pushed himself into a sitting position, feeling a quick and sharp pain ripe through his spine. He grimaced, sitting up to find himself on a stretcher. He was in some kind of sewer tunnel, a few lights spread around, with a large pipe going through the room. Boone groaned, getting slowly to his feet. He ducked under the pipe, and stepped into the cold and dirty water of the sewer. His feet sluggishly moved down the tunnel as the water made rhythmic noises below him. He held his arm, which felt rather sore. He stepped up into a metallic pipe, pulling himself in. He stepped out into the light, hopping down onto the wet soil below. He looked up at the blue sky, he popped some of the bones in his neck, before walking to parts unknown.
"So thats what being dead feels like..."
-Part of journal entry 17 of Mike Boone's journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6zH7gKSr4
Chapter 3: The Outlands
Day 18: The need for speed
Feb. 2016
Location: City 45 Outer Canals, near Warehouse #2
Boone limped down the empty street, an ocean of dust went up to his ankles, obscuring anything below it. Boone held his arm as he walked, grimacing with each step as a sharp pain rocked through his chest from an encounter with an antlion. He saw Warehouse #2 in his view, quickening his pace as he slammed on the garage button, the garage door slid open, he staggered inside, coughing from the dust from outside. He slammed the indoor button, and put his sleeve over his mouth as the garage door closed behind him. After blinking the dust out of his eyes, he saw a red jeep in his view. He straightened up, walking, half limping to the parked jeep, sitting in the warehouse, collecting dust. He ran his hand along the frame, which showed clear signs of dust. He let out a soft whistle, amazed that a vehicle like it was still around. He stopped when he heard the garage door open behind him. He turned quickly, to see a Vortigaunt standing in the doorway peacefully. The Vortigaunt stepped inside calmly, pressing the button to close the garage door as it came to inspect the vehicle. He looked up at Boone, all four of its “eyes” focusing on him. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, before the creature spoke in a deep and scratchy voice. “Greetings..” It said calmly. Boone nodded. “Hey..” He said with a false calm. The Vortigaunt turned its attention back to the vehicle, then back at Boone, raising its eyelids at him in confusion. Boone looked at the Vortigaunt, then the jeep, and said “Its a vehicle... used for transport..” Boone said slowly, feeling suddenly low of breath. “Transportation...?” The Vortigaunt questioned. “You humans are very strange...” Boone nodded his head numbly, when the sound of a Hunter Chopper flying over broke the silence.
Without thinking, Boone unslinged his MP7, slapping a magazine inside, and quickly flicked off the safety. He quickly took cover behind a rack of boxes, the Vortigaunt did the same, hiding behind a rack of boxes opposite him. The Vortigaunt put it’s claws together, and a green energy started to glow within its claws, glowing a vibrant green. Boone grimaced, taking a syringe from the breast of his jacket pocket, he twirled it in his fingers, jabbing quickly into the hole in his chest from an Antlion attack. The Vortigaunt raised its eyelids, before putting it’s right claw out, releasing a calming flow of energy, instead of a sudden crack of energy, into his chest. He felt a soothing sensation as he ripped the needle out of his chest and onto the floor, he then felt the pain go away all together. He ripped off the large bandage that was on his chest, and saw skin replacing the bloody maw that was the wound. He looked towards the Vortigaunt in amazement, nodding his thanks, he checked to make sure his MP7 was loaded, as footsteps were heard from outside. The garage door slowly opened, Boone appeared out of the corner of the boxes, MP7 raised, the garage fully opened, only to reveal another unarmed refugee. Boone sighed, slinging his MP7 on his back. The Vortigaunt powered down its energy, before walking up to the man. Boone sat in the dusty drivers seat of the jeep, he looked at the key slot, only to find it empty. Probably why it was collecting dust in the warehouse. Boone let out a sigh, bringing out his journal, he took out his pen, and wrote in it about his recent adventures.
“Found a jeep, and a new friend...”
-Part of journal entry 18 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uamh1l_tmeI
Chapter 3: The Outlands
Day twe- *The next couple of pages are ripped out of the journal, or too covered in mud and sewage to make out*
// Basiclly, I've been falling behind with this so I decieded to time skip to when Boone found the mountains.
Chapter 5: The Mountains
Day 34: Late Arrival
2017, January
Location: Romania Mountains
The wind blew against the grass softly, the wind whistled as it made its way through the leaves, the leave started to fall and followed the wind on its airborne journey. The leaves floated high above the mountains, making only the occasional whistle. The leaves started to dive low, as if dive bombing, towards a man hole. A metallic grinding broke the silence, the man hole twisted to the right, and popped open, it flipped over and banged loudly on the ground, it echoed throughout the mountains. Boone appeared out of the manhole, the cluster of leaves fluttering over his head. Boone climbed out of the smelly manhole, covered in sewage. He adjusted his Overwatch helmet, so that he could better see out of the optic. He unslung his Spas 12, looking around the barren road. The road was un-naturally empty, the only noise being the wind blowing through the trees. Boone walked forward, a chill running up his spine as a gust of wind made its way into what little remained of his City 7 jacket. He made the short climb up the road, turning to his left and climbing over a knocked over fence. He made his way through a small forest before finding a mountain path that lead to a brilliant lake, the lake was so quiet and untouched, the water seemed to look like glass. Boone noted the location of the lake for later, so that he could hopefully wash his things later. He walked down another grass hill, scanning the terrain below, he made his way into a small river that went up to his knees, following it up stream. He turned and stopped for a moment to admire a waterfall that let off a slight steam as it hit the ground before continuing up stream.
He climbed out of the water, his legs pale white from the water. He looked up, through his single optic, he saw a large path that went up towards a large mountain, he could just make out a fence at the top of the mountain. He started to jog up the mountain, adjusting his helmet every couple of feet, in the hopes to find something that he hadn’t seen for months, actual human life. He turned a corner, and saw a large gate in front of him, he slowed to a stop, panting. In the distance, an electric generator hummed, and the sounds of insects zipping around filled the air. He exhaled, walking into the gate, his Spas 12 held in his hands tightly.
“I’m so glad to be out of the sewers, I found what seems to be a bunker. Hopefully someone will be inside, and hopefully they won’t try to kill me...”
-Part of entry 34 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGXV1c7VcG0
Chapter 5: The Mountains
Day 35: A little heart to heart..
2017, January
Location: Romania Mountains, by the Alliance Bunker
Boone walked through the opened doors slowly, looking about the small interior of the base. Some beds were to his left, where some patients lay. He looked around, seeing some Alliance emblems scattered about. He slinging his Spas 12, walking to his right into a walkway with a crossroads. He turned right, into a room that seemed to be for recreational purposes. He saw a young vested male playing a guitar, and a few refugees surrounding him. There was a TV in the room, and no one was using it. What is wrong with people. He thought as he strolled to the “TV couch”. He didn’t find any remote of any kind, so he sat against the back of the couch and listened to the music. The vested man laughed, he saw his face for a moment, and it struck him as familiar. He got up, circling to the back of the couch, getting a better view of the man. It finally struck him that the man was none other then Zak Grant, a member of the group none as ‘Civiwatch’. He laughed again, and asked loudly “Any requests?” Boone leaned forward on the back of the couch, adjusting his helmet. “How about you play Turn the Page by Metallica, Zakky.” Zak stared at him in disbelief. He got up, putting his guitar down, walking over towards him. He laughed nervously, mostly because he had a vest and an OSIPR. All he had was a USP match and a Spas 12. He got right into his face, his face reflecting off the optic of his helmet, Which was a dark red instead of a glowing red, because the helmet was powered down. “..What, bad nickname?” He said with slight nervousness. He stared into his optic, and said “Only one person calls me that...” He seemed to be thinking for a moment, when his face brightened. “Boone!” They both laughed, sharing a manly hug of manliness. They continued to laugh as they let go of each other, Zak was the first who got off his laughing spell. “So, where you been, I didn’t see you in the convoy.” Boone sighed, remembering that day when everyone evacuated. “I had to go through the sewers, I was lucky I made it out alive!” Zak smiled, patting him on the back. “Well, welcome back, Booney.” He chuckled, walking out the door. Boone chuckled as well, leaning on the couch, with the refugees from earlier giving him a weird look. It was either from the helmet or the scene between him and Zak. He deepened his voice, so that it would sound almost like a Combine vocoder. “Lookin’ for trouble?” He said menacingly towards the staring refugees. They shook their heads, they scrambled and head for the door. Boone laughed, thinking that wouldn’t work.
“Found the Alliance bunker, and Zak. Oh, the times we’ll have...”
-Part of journal entry 35 of Mike Boone’s journal.
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//Man hug of manliness like a boss! Cannot believe you remembered our conversation from when we met again :D
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6zH7gKSr4
Chapter 5: The Mountains
Day 36: Picking up the trail
2017, January
Location: Romania Mountains
Boone blinked open his eyes, rubbing away the gunk that rested inside them. He looked around the dark room, it was the sleeping quarters of JURY. He looked to his right, his helmet lay next to him, watching him with its watchful red optic. He was about to pick it up, when he noticed a slip of paper resting on the top. He picked it up, his hazel eyes sparked, like a flame about to start when he began to read the note.
“Dear Mr. Boone
We understand that you have been looking for a certain someone, Mike Daring. We have some information that you can’t afford to pass up. Meet our contact at the edge of the Romania Mountains, he’ll be on the large cliff that borders it. We hope to hear from you soon.
-A friend."
By the time he finished reading it, he threw it to the ground, slipping on his helmet and throwing his hood over it. He quickly got to his feet, racing out the doors. He raced out the gate, Zak Grant stood walking towards him, a cup in his hand. He looked up, his eyes slowly widening in surprise as Boone came rushing towards him. He opened his mouth to speak, when Boone rushed into him, putting his hands on his chest, and pushed him violently out of the way, with a fierce “Out of my way!” He tumbled to the side, the cup shattered on the ground, and the liquid bleed over the concrete surface. He raced out of the great double doors of JURY’s base of operations. By the time Zak got out of the doors, Boone was already at the bottom of the mountain.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNnhEOQZ2ME
Boone took large steps as he scaled the rest of the mountain, all that stood in his way was a large expanse of green hill. Earlier he had climbed painfully slow, being careful to grasp every foothold in the hopes he wouldn’t fall, possibly to his death. He emerged over the top of the hill, nothing was in front of him, except for a figure dressed in a pitch black cloak, the wind pushed the cloak to the side, which revealed black boots, probably worn by Civil Protection, on his feet. He turned as he heard his footsteps approaching him, he wore a black mask with a black hat on the top, the mask had a long, pointed black beak, and the optics looked like something from a gas mask, except polarized, so the eyes of the man behind them couldn’t be seen. Boone stopped a yard away, and the man turned fully to face him. He held out a piece of paper, it was folded neatly. Boone took it out of his hand, and unfolded it. It read:
“Your dead, courtesy of The Watchers.”
He looked up, to see a USP match aimed at his face. He lashed out with his right arm, he grabbed onto his wrist, wrenching the pistol out of his face. The pistol fired, shooting up a hole of dirt behind him. He grabbed onto his wrist with both hands, and delivered a swift kick to the face. Despite the mask, it didn’t offer much protection. The man fell to the ground, the pistol falling to the ground. Boone walked over towards him, kicking the pistol down the edge of the mountain as he approached, drawing his own USP match, which was much more worn. The man looked up, hurriedly backing up on his hands, using his feet to move back as well. He stopped when he reached the edge of the mountain, which lead to a fall to his death. Boone aimed the pistol at the man’s face. He put his hands over his face, “P-please...” He begged. “D-don’t kill me...” Boone stood his ground. “I want information on The Watchers. Now.” He said in a cold tone. “W-we keep watch on citizens, loyalists, refugees, you name it!” “I-I was hired to assassinate you, b-because you were getting a little out of hand, l-l-looking for a loyalist and all.” Boone took another step forward, the pistol clenched tightly in his hand. “Tell me where I can find them!” The man shook in fear, and cried out. “City 7! They’re down in the sewers of City 7!” Boone nodded, and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet that pierced through his skull. The man simply fell back, a pool of blood already beginning to surround him. Boone reached down, taking a note out of the man’s breast pocket. It was all of the details about him, regarding an order to have him dead. Boone grumbled, pushing the dead body over the edge with his foot. He slide his USP match into his holster, and turned to take the journey back down the cliff.
“I think I’ve started to pick up Darings trail, there’s a group calling themselves “The Watchers”, holed up in the sewers of City 7. I’ll start there, since they seem to know so much about me, they might know where Daring is. Besides, I’d like to go back to City 7 again...
-Part of journal entry 36 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9ocAUQnNdE
Chapter 5: The Mountains
Day 37: Silent farewells
2017, January
Location: Romania Mountains
Boone tugged on the strap of his backpack, securing it onto his back. He looked back at the bunker, feeling sorrow wash over him as he turned back towards the dirt path that lead down the mountain. He lowered his head, letting out a soft exhale. He gave his backpack a final tug, before setting off down the mountain. He pinned a note onto the board in the social room regarding his leave, he left it primarily for his friend, Zak Grant, or anyone else who cared. (// If this doesn’t work, feel free to post here, JURY, or who whom ever controls the bunker) He knew he couldn’t say goodbye to anyone in person, they either wouldn’t care or they would urge him to stay, he just couldn’t have something like that on his mind. He looked down at the ground as he walked, not making eye contact with any refugees as he walked. He hadn’t said good bye to anyone because he didn’t want to attract any un-wanted attention, either from The Watchers, The Pact, or a new group he had just heard about, The Cathedral. Something interrupted his thoughts as he heard a cackle echo across the mountains as he entered the tunnel. He slide his USP match out of his holster, keeping it gripped in his right hand. He felt a slight pang of regret as he realized he hadn’t spoke to that one girl, Sophia, he remembers overhearing. He wasn’t sure if her feelings for him were just fear, curiosity, or something much deeper.. something Boone didn’t want to get involved in. He shook his head grimly, thinking it may have been for the best if they hadn’t spoke. For all he knew, she was lying dead in a hole somewhere, the thought made him shudder. He emerged into the light of the valley, looking to his right as he began the climb to Belles town. He stopped at a manhole that was built into the road, he holstered his USP, looking around for something to pry it open. He looked to his right, to see a red and black crowbar lying on the ground. He bent down, scooping it into his hand. He dug the hooked end into the spot between the concrete and the manhole covering. He grunted as he gave a swift push, the manhole covering popping open. With a final effort, he used the crowbar to throw the covering off the hole, it clattered loudly on the concrete next to the hole. He sat down on the edge of the hole, sliding down and landing on the first rungs of the ladder, his head poking out of the hole. He reached forward, and pulled the manhole covering over his head.
“Alright, lets find The Watchers...”
-Part of journal entry 37 of Mike Boone’s journal
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLmKxAiKM2A
Chapter 6: City 7
Day 38: Farthest from home
2017, Present-day October
Location: Below the streets of City Seven, ‘The Rat-ways’
The tunnels were empty, devoid of life. The sewage rushing through underneath the city was the only sound that one could hear in the Rat-ways. The sewage ripped through the tunnel, a torrent of trash and garbage mixed with dirty water. A single citizen walked along the walkway, he casually looked into the ripening torrent, when a movement caught his eye. Something began to move towards him, a small bump amongst the waves of sewage. The man stopped, freezing in his place. The bump began to grow, grow into something sinister. It revealed a blue shaded head, the color of a citizens jumpsuit, steadily rising out of the sewage. As it rose, the head was seen to be a hood, attached to a torn and dirty jumpsuit. The creature’s arms rose out of the sewage, grabbing onto the edge of the walkway and pulling itself up, right next to the dumbstruck man. The man looked over the creature, only to find that it was a man, his hood obscured his face, and he was coughing into his arm. The citizen slowly unfroze, when the man looked towards him, and instead of a face, a single red eye was staring back at him, surrounded by a dark, sinister green. The man rose from the ground, and as the light struck his face, it became obvious he was wearing a Overwatch elite helmet, painted green. The citizen shook like mad, beginning to run, when the man grabbed him from behind, pinning him to the wall and jamming a USP match into his forehead. “Please...” The citizen begged, tears beginning to roll down his face. “I-I don’t want to die...” The man holding the pistol spoke in a low voice, but it was kept stern, despite the man’s pitifulness. “Answer me a question...” The citizen stood silent, nodding his head through the tears, staring straight into the red optic. “The Watchers... where can I find them?” The citizen seemed to think for a moment. “B-but if I t-tell you.. I-I could die..” The citizen stuttered. The man leaned in, increasing the pressure on his head. “But if you don’t tell me, you’ll die now.” The man’s voice grew more threatening. “Make a decision.” The citizen finally cracked, shaking like a leaf as he told him. “I-its just under the train station! N-now pl-please! Let me go!” The man relaxed the pressure on his forehead, pushing the citizen away. “Get lost.” The man said, walking the opposite direction, before disappearing around a corner.
Boone slide the USP match back into his sewage-soaked jacket, shaking his arms of the loose sewage. That was disgusting, Boone though to himself as he made his way through the sewer. He began to hear footsteps overhead, looking up, he saw the soles of peoples shoes as they walked over the metal grates. He stepped back, seeing the train station a few feet away. He continued forward, stopping at a three-way intersection, when a loud wooden ‘Snap!’ from above put him into alert. He looked up, hearing the metallic clatter of Overwatch equipment. The soles of black boots walked directly over his grate. One of the boots stopped, freezing for a moment. Boone quickly took cover in the shadows as the Overwatch elite looked down the grate. It held a large sniper rifle in its hands, and had a red hand-print on the front of his helmet. The elite dismissed what he thought he saw, and went to catch up with the other Overwatch. Boone breathed a sigh of relief, moving into the path to his right, leading directly underneath the train station. He walked forward until met by a door, he lightly knocked, adjusting his hood to obscure his face. A slot in the door opened, and a rusty voice spoke from the other side. “Whats the difference between a CP and a human?” The voice asked. Boone smiled, answering the question. “CP’s aren’t human.” The slot closed, and the door open, revealing a large man wearing a dirty jumpsuit. “Make yourself at home...” He gestured inside, Boone walked past, turning towards the man. “Where can I inquire about hits?” “Put in a ticket and someone will come to see you.” The guard replied. Boone nodded, going towards the bar, and finding a small box that dispensed tickets. He grabbed one, with the word ‘Serving’ and ‘77‘ written below it. Lucky Sevens, Boone thought. He held his ticket in his hand, sliding into an empty table, and began his wait.
“Now, we wait...”
-Snippet of Journal entry Thirty-eight
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MK5EXzOxY8Q
Chapter 6: City 7
Day 39: Hostile Negotiations
2017, Present-day October
Location: City Seven, the local Rat-way bar
Boone sat quietly in the corner of the bar, an unopened whiskey sat in front of him. He never really did get into alcohol, but he kept it there to not arouse suspicion. His fingers lightly drummed against the beaten, wooden table as he sat in wait. A bell rung at the other end of the room, the sign changed to “Now serving number: 77“ He stood up, ticket in hand, letting his free hand slide along the wooden table before leaving it as he approached the wooden door next to the sign. He twisted the handle, pushing forcefully on the door, and closing it behind him. The room around him was fancy, for someone who lived in the sewers, with an old, rotting wooden desk and a torn leather chair. A heavy-set man sat in the chair, his hands folded on the desk, like a mob boss out of a mobster movie. He would have to be careful around this one. Boone threw his ticket on his desk, easing into a small office chair across from the desk. He kept his head low, keeping his face hidden from the man. The man cleared his throat, speaking in a raspy voice. “So, who do you need hit?” Boone kept his head low. “Actually, I need information.” The man nodded. “We sell that too.” Boone stood, sliding his USP match out of his jacket, pointing it down towards the man. He looked up, his helmeted face clearly shown. The man blinked in astonishment, before quickly regaining his composure. “You must be Boone.” He nodded, keeping the sidearm aimed at his chest. “Then you know what I want.” It was the man’s turn to nod. “Information on a Mike Daring, correct?” Boone stood still, before nodding. The man reached down, pulling out a drawer, and slide a pile of colorless pictures paper clipped together towards him. Boone, with his free hand, reached for the photos, inspecting each one. “Your friends been busy.” The man began. He looked at the first picture, on the bottom right corner was “City 8“ imprinted into the photo, it showed Daring walking down the street with a loyalist armband. “He failed his first application, but got lucky on his second.” Boone slide the picture out, viewing a picture of him against a wall being tied by a CCA unit outside the Nexus, this picture being labeled “City 11“.
“Why is he being tied up?”
“Its what they do to Interviewees before, well, interviewing them. Standard procedure I guess.” The man shrugged, Boone slide the picture out, revealing another in City Eleven. It showed a CCA officer walking down the street with another CCA officer, they both held stunsticks in their hands and had new uniforms. “The one on the left is your friend, although from what we hear, his name now is Two-oh-three.” Boone shook his head slowly, almost fearing to view the next picture. The man behind the desk stared at him, boring a hole through his skull until Boone just grew so desperate to break the awkward silence that he viewed the next picture. It showed a busy city plaza, City Forty-five’s judging by how it says “City 45“ in the corner, there were citizens walking the streets, with a unit wearing a worn uniform guiding a tied citizen into the nexus of that sector. “Thats your friend, sending someone to their doom.” Boone shook his head, tossing the photos onto his desk, the colorless photos spreading across the desk. “Latest intelligence suggest that he’s stationed here.” The man added, before standing up, sliding his hand under his desk. “Now that you have what you need.. I’m going to call the guards in here.” Boone only hesitated a second before the words registered, he aimed his USP match, aiming for the base of the man’s neck. The man looked up, completely frozen, not of fear, but almost as if he expects him to do something. Boone started to feel himself breath heavily, before he began to speak. “You want to keep your brains inside your head I’d chill out.” The man sighed, easing back into the large chair. “Maybe we can strike a deal.” He said calmly. Boone nodded slowly. “Go on.” The man stood, sliding his fingers along the desk as he slowly walked around it. “We’re planning a small operation, that could, if pulled off correctly, liberate the citizens of City seven.” He turned towards him, his eyes cold and serious. “I need someone like you.” Boone stood silent, allowing him to continue. “We’re planning on sending a small strike-team into the citadel, while the Combine are busy taking them out, we’ll strike from the outskirts of the city, making our way in, and then pulling back to kill any stragglers.” Boone hesitated, before asking. “..What about this 'Strike team’.” The man sighed lightly. “They’ll probably end up dead..” His fingers drummed against the desk. “Thats where you come in.” He looked up towards him, his fingers drumming against the desk.
“The current leader I have for this strike team is insane, an absolute crazy. With him as the strike team leader, they’ll obviously get killed quickly.”
“Let me guess, you want me to lead this squad?” He nodded. “With you as the leader, you’ll have a much higher chance of survival, although casualties will still be high, and you could probably get something done.” Boone nodded slowly. “If I refuse?” The man shrugged casually. “My guards come in and splatter your brains all over the wall.” Boone hesitated, before answering. “I’ll do it.” He grinned. “Excellent, I’ll remove your bounty so you aren’t shot at by your own guys.” Boone slide his USP match back into his jacket, relaxing. “Your barracks are room number seven, get comfortable.” Boone nodded lightly, before exiting, heading around the bar towards the numbered rooms, stopping at seven. He pushed open the door, looking around at a couple of refugee’s, just as dirty as he is. He slide into a bunk, feeling now wasn’t the time for chit-chat, considering how exhausted he was. He slide out his tattered journal, with the red “7“ covering the front, it was his only place to voice his thoughts to. He slide out a pen, beginning to write.
“Okay, recap.
Found City seven, managed to sneak my way into this bar, and got to talk with what seems like the guy who runs things around here, atleast in City seven. Daring’s part of the CCA now, and a damned good cop from the looks of it. So now, I’m offered, more like forced, to carry out a near-suicidal mission to the Citadel. I guess I’m better then the leader they had, so now I’m leading this op. Daring, oh, sorry, “Two-oh-three” is stationed here too, so hopefully I can talk some sense into 'em. My ‘squad mates’ are telling me that this Op starts in about a weeks time, so I have a good enough time to get ready. Haven’t gotten to know ‘em yet, but I’m afraid of meeting the ex-squad leader. Actually, I’m afraid of this whole mission in general. But I might aswell have a chance to survive rather then just being shot in the head by some two-bit thug. I’d better get some rest, I’m exhausted from having to swim upstream a sewer. Eughh.”
-Part of journal entry 39
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jB2D7P_fEf4
Chapter 6: City 7
Day 40: Truth, Regret, and Mercy
2017, Present-day October
Location: City 7, Rat-way barracks room Number 7
Boone sat on the bottom bunk closet to the door, his legs hanging idly off the side the bed, he stared at the small scribbles of words in his journal. Re-reading his journal reminded him of how innocent he once was. Over time, he had grown close to many people, and had seen them die right in front of his eyes, he suddenly saw Rick’s face, just seconds before he was impaled by an Antlion Guard, his drunken eyes wide with rage and fear. He then began to remember the people he hadn’t been there for, the people who probably wouldn’t have died if he were there. His thoughts flashed to Samantha, imaging her being overrun by a squad of Overwatch. It sickened him, both the Overwatch for killing such an innocent woman and the fact that he wasn’t there. Innocence lost, he thought as he tucked the journal back into his jacket. He looked down at his hands through the blood red optic of his helmet, when a shadow loomed over him, darkening his hands. He looked up, into the eyes of a man wearing a resistance vest, his hair black and wavy, but it came out in different strands and almost had a fuzzy quality to it. His eyes were wide, almost with rage as he stared Boone in the eyes. Boone stood up, facing the man. The other members of the team began to take notice, watching the two as they stared each other down. The man finally spoke, a twisted smile starting to creep onto his face, his voice was high-pitched, like a killer clown.
“So.. you must be Boone..”
Boone nodded.
The man lunged forward, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, and yanked him closer, his eyes filled with rage and hate.
“You took my job, you fucking helmeted freak!” He screamed hysterically. Boone brought his right hand up, wiping some of the loose spittle off of his optic.
“Atleast I’m not a emo Beatles reject.” He brought his right hand back as the man’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop right out of his skull. He swung his right hand across, striking the man across the face. He staggered back, tripping over the small coffee table in the middle of the room and landing flat on his ass. Boone stiffened, standing over him in a threatening stance as the others gathered around. The man wiped the blood away from his mouth, looking up at Boone, a smile on his face, almost as if he’s impressed, or perhaps disappointed.
“Why’d you have to take my job, Boonesie?” He said in the same high-pitched, crazed voice, still lying on the ground, his legs on top of the coffee table. Boone relaxed his posture, still looking down at him. “Its nothing personal, I’m just better.” The man’s smile turned into a frown as the other members of the team stood in shock. “And you would of just drove your team into the path of an APC’s machine gun.” He turned around, walking back to his bunk, when a voice stopped him in his tracks. “Why don’t you come finish me then?” He froze on the spot, remembering when he had told someone to drink bleach, and when they had died because of it. Boone shook slightly for a moment, before turning his head, so that half his face faced them. “I don’t kill people if I don’t have to.” He turned his head around, and added. “Especially those who can help us in this war.” He walked back towards his bunk, leaving it at that.
-
Pretty cool series :D
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YlxbVJHGMic
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 41: Insertion
2017, Present-day October
Location: City 7, somewhere below the train station
The light dripping of sewage water could be heard in the distance as six crouched silhouettes made their way through the tunnel. Boone kept to the front, the crazed maniac he had come to know as ‘Bowie’ was right behind him, and four other un-named refugee’s wearing vests. Boone was the only one not wearing a vest. They stopped at a hole in the tunnel, big enough to fit an average sized man. Boone looked into the hole, seeing only train tracks, he looked at ‘Bowie’, skeptical.
“So.. is there a plan for this?”
“Wait for it...” ‘Bowie’ said, a freakish grin making its way onto his face. There were a few moments of silence, when a long howl deep within the tunnel echoed through. Boone looked back down the hole, seeing nothing, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He looked back up at 'Bowie’, who was hopping up and down excitingly, his grin growing wider and wider by the second. A second howl rang through the tunnel, shaking loose debris from the ceiling. Boone stood quiet, until the ground beneath him began to shake, the shaking increasing in intensity with each passing moment. He looked around, white dust from the tunnel was floating shakily to the ground, and loose parts of the tunnel occasionally rained down. At the climax of the quake, a third howl rang much louder, nearly blowing Boone’s ears out under his helmet. Underneath him, a blue bullet of a train shot out from under them. It took a moment, but he soon recognized the train to be the Combine’s main form of transporting supplies. The RAZOR train. He looked at ‘Bowie’, who was smiling at him.
“Ladies first, ‘fearless leader’.” He said mockingly. Boone looked down the hole again, feeling himself shake as the train went past. It was now or never, he thought grimly. He let out a shaky sigh, sitting on the edge of the hole, his feet dangling from the hole.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5zn9afMC1s
Boone let out another shaky sigh, feeling his arms shake as he slide forward, and pushed off with his arms into the hole. There was the frightening feel of vertigo as he fell for what felt like years, before the jarring landing on the top of the RAZOR train brought him back to his senses. He landed on his back, feeling himself slide off. He scratched desperately at the surface of the train, trying to find some purchase. He felt himself slide off the roof of the train, when his fingers felt the top of something metal, like a handle. He looked up, gripping the metallic handle with his free hand, bringing him to a jarring stop. ‘Bowie’ stood over him, a twisted smile on his face as the combine lights sped past him. Boone hung there a moment, staring up at him. He brought his other hand up, pulling himself up slowly as the wind howled in his face. He felt a light pressure on his hand, and saw ‘Bowie’s foot lightly pressed against it, his smile not fading. Boone brought his leg back onto the roof of the train car, sliding his hand our from under his shoe. He stood up, nearly falling over at first. He looked down the tunnel, watching the train snake through the tunnel. He turned to ‘Bowie’ “Lets go find a cart with supplies in it.” He nodded, looking disappointed, and signaled the others who were waiting behind him. Boone turned back towards the front, he brought his right foot up, bringing it forward against the wind pushing against him. He put his right arm in front of his helmet, bringing his left forward as they made their way forward. He stopped at the front of the cart they were on, and hopped down into the gap separating both carts. He looked at the door handle, which seemed like the ever famous Combine lock. He brought out the MP7 he was supplied with, aiming it at the handle, and firing a burst into the light. The lock exploded into a small array of sparks, the light going dark. Boone took a hand off the MP7, taking off the lock, and throwing it to the side, the lock banging against the wall and the train. He pushed open the door, walking inside, away from the howling wind. He looked around the room, looking around, the room was stock-piled with crates. He examined a crate to his right, flicking open the lock, he pushed it open, revealing a stock-pile of ammo. He turned towards his ‘squad’. “Find a crate and hide, we may be here a while, feel free to take ammo too, I guess.” Boone made his way into the crate as the others looked for their own, he nestled himself into the crate, moving some of the ammo around and laying it on top of him to camouflage him. He shifted uncomfortably, sighing as he waited for the trip to end.
“Alright, so, as I write this, I’m lying, uncomfortably, in a box of ammunition. I’m about to embark on a 'Near-suicidal’ mission, as described from my 'squad mates’. Oh, and to make it all better, I’m crates away from a mentally insane murderer named 'Bowie’. Cool name, huh? No. Not a cool name. In fact, its the most stereotypical axe-murderer name ever. Anyway, if this is my last journal entry, and someone happens upon this journal. I.. I want someone I can trust with this journal. Zak is a candidate, and.. that scarecrow guy. Funny, I don’t have many people I’m close to anymore. I guess it doesn’t matter now, since not many of them would come to my aid just for one person. Anyhow, enough talk about lack of friends, I sound worse then a.. teenage, schoolgirl, I guess.
Lets finish this.”
-Journal entry 41
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvdRi1TY8Bc
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 42: The time to strike
2017, Present-day October
Location: City 7, deep within the Citadel
The station was dark and empty, the florescent lights painting the floor and the walls a pale blue. Civil Protection officers stood quietly in the station, when the floor began to slowly rumble beneath their feet. The prisoner pods hung on the walls began to rock back and forth as the units quietly waited, waited for the train to come. As the intensity of the shaking was at its peak, the tunnels howled as a RAZOR train speed into the station, grinding to a halt as its door opened to reveal its cargo. A bar connected to one of the carts, and prisoner pods began to ride out of the RAZOR train along the bar. The units began to walk towards the train, picking up crates of supplies and setting them down in the receiving area. The units began to unload the ammunition crates from the train. Boone lay completely still in the box, not even risking to breath. He felt a jarring shake as the crate was set down. He relaxed slightly, allowing himself to breath, when he felt two snaps just outside his box, and felt light pour in. His breathing quickened as he felt the ammunition being moved around, the black gloved hands could just barely be seen through the cracks between boxes. He felt a hand brush against his foot, and felt it pause. Boone held his breath, feeling sweat trickle down his face. The hand moved forward as if about to touch his leg again, when a vocoded voice nearby yelled. “<:: 647E in the crate!” He shut his eyes, awaiting the bullets to tear into him or feel himself pulled out. Gunshot’s rang out inside the station, the station going quiet with only the faint echo of them left behind. Boone opened his eyes slowly, feeling himself alive, he felt relief flow through him. “<:: Check the crates for more of them!” A vocoded voice yelled. Boone stiffened, knowing that it was now or never, he reached behind him for his MP7.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8ynMoCUHfg
A CCA unit slowly approached one of the crates, slowly unslinging a standard combat issue MP7 from his back. He walked on the balls of his feet, his boots lightly tapping against the metallic floor. He stopped just a foot away, pulling the bolt back, and loading a magazine into the grip, and pushed the bolt forward, aiming his MP7 at the crate as he approached. He stopped just before it, and shoved his hand quickly inside the box, feeling for any clothing. He took gasps of air, leaning back. Nothing. He took a breath, calming himself down. He turned, speaking almost to himself. “<:: Come out, come out... so I can kill you all.” Just as he was about to search the next crate, a citizen wearing a hood over his head popped out of one of the boxes behind him, a hood obscuring most of his face. The citizen aimed down the sights at the unit, slapping the front grip of a dirtier MP7 into his left hand, and squeezed the trigger, the gun coughing three rounds, each one just inches from the units mask. He jumped, feeling as if his heart was about to jump straight out of his chest. He turned towards the MP7 wielding citizen. Boone cursed under his breath, quickly beginning to readjust his shot. The unit quickly brought the laser sight to his optic, the laser sight aimed for the head of the OTA-helmeted citizen. The room was filled with gunfire as both MP7‘s lit up. Both enemies stood frozen, when the CCA unit collapsed to the ground, three bullet holes going straight through his helmet, blood oozing from the front of his helmet. Boone breathed a sigh of relief as he climbed out of the crate, looking around, seeing each member of his squad taking care of a unit or two. ‘Bowie’ had a knife in one, and was shooting another in the head with a USP. He pulled himself out of the crate, awaiting everyone to meet on him before approaching the elevator. They all assembled on the elevator, when he turned to his squad. “We need to go up.” One of the members nodded, he typed into the console, when after a moment the lift began to rise. Alarms began to blare as the bio-signal lost message went out. They passed the first floor, as they began to rise, one unit pointed them out, then two, then four, then ten. They began to fire upon the lift, Boone ducked away, the bullets chipping away at the lift and the walls above. He saw a cloud of red mist hover over one of the his team mates, before he tipped forward and fell below. They passed the ceiling of the first floor, all was silent for a few moments. A few moments, until the lift stopped. Boone looked around, surrounded by hallways that led to four different directions. He opened his mouth, when the marching of feet came from the hall to the right. Around the corner, comes dozens of units, armed with USP’s as they begin firing down the hall. Boone ducked down as the first shot hit the wall just above him, he waved his squad to him. “This way, come on!” They begin to run down the hallway, shooting over their shoulders as units begin to turn the corners. They began to run down a corridor with rooms on either side, he turned his head towards an open door, a unit adjusting something on his arm as he looked up at the squad, beginning to charge towards the open door, scrabbling for a USP. Boone swung his MP7 around, strafing as he aimed through the laser sight of his MP7, firing a burst into the panel on the wall. The panel began to short circuit, and fried itself as the door shut close, trapping the unit behind it. Boone turned his attention back to the end of the hall, before he could notice, 'Bowie’ was already taking to example and shooting the panel next to the door that hung open at the end of the hall way. The door screeched as the it began to lower, Boone found himself at the back as one-by-one his squad went under the door. The opening from the door was now shorter then he was, he couldn’t crouch under it without being crushed. He took his own legs out from under him, hitting the floor on his thigh, the momentum from when he was running before carried him under the door. Suddenly his vision lost the red hue he got from his helmet, he turned, seeing his helmet on the other side of the quickly closing door. He quickly reached forward, grabbing the rim of the bottom of his helmet and pulling it in, just as the door closed, nearly crushing his hand. He sighed lightly in relief, taking off his hood and sliding his helmet back on, and sliding the hood back over his helmet. ‘Bowie’ stood silent a moment, a grin on his face. “Damn, you’re one ugly motherfucker.” Boone looked at ‘Bowie’, a glare under his helmet.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RccLY1xWPz8
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 43: Trapped
Present-day October, 2017, Shortly after Code Black is initiated.
Location: City 7 Citadel, upper levels
As the squad approached a new elevator, Boone felt his radio buzz in his pocket. He reached back, pulling it out, and keying the mic, speaking into it. “Boone speaking, go ahead.” He began to hear the old, groggily voice of the Watcher’s mysterious leader, only answering to ‘Lucky’. “How’ you kids doin’ up there?”
“Oh fine, we lost two guys already, but other then that we’re... mostly fine.”
“Well then, I thought you gentlemen should know that you’re temporarily locked in.”
Boone sighed, turning away from the group, an acid tone starting to make his way into his voice.
“We’re.. what?”
“You’re locked in, but with good reason.”
“There better be a damn good reason, or I’ll tear City 7 apart to find you, you snake.”
“Now, now, no need for hostilities.. we have some of our members trying to breach the door on the bottom floor, but there’ll probably be many other ways out.”
Boone nodded to himself slowly.
“What should we do until then?”
“Hell, I don’t know, just do something that hurts the damn Civil Authority.”
“You’ve got it.. 'Fearless leader’.”
Boone spun his radio in his hand, before sliding it in his back pocket. “I hope we have plenty of grenades...” 'Bowie’ gestured towards a younger male in the corner with a wool cap on his head. “He’s our sapper.” 'Bowie’ said with a grin. Boone nodded, and boarded the elevator, his squad following after them. After going a few floors up, they found themselves in a long hallway, with terminals scattered around the end in the other room. It looked like a perfect place for a trap. He motioned his squad to follow, tension beginning to fill around them. As they walked, he turned to 'Sapper’, holding his hand out for a grenade. 'Sapper’ nodded with a polite smile, handing him two dusty tubes. Boone nodded respectfully, realizing they were grenades after he saw the pin and the dormant light. He could feel ‘Bowie’s grin behind him as he turned to enter the terminal room, he hoped it was because there would because terminals would be exploding. He surveyed the room as he entered, admiring the blue glow that the screens cast. He began to reach into his jacket where he put the grenades, when a beeping-keypad type noise, followed by a metallic groan, made Boone whip around. Before he realized what was going on, two large Combine doors had closed behind him, there was thick glass on each door. On the other side sat ‘Bowie’ with the rest of the squad, a twisted grin painted on his face. Boone ran forward, hitting the glass with his fist. “You son of a bitch!” He sneered. ‘Bowie’ merely laughed psychotically, he turned around, waving for the squad to follow. Boone began to breath heavily as they approached the elevator, leaving him behind in this metal coffin. They loaded onto the elevator, ‘Bowie’ grinned smuggily, while the demolitions expert, ‘Sapper’ looked rather guilty. The two elevator doors pushed forward until meeting in the middle of the doorway, the elevator closed, steadily rising. Boone began to feel himself panic, his chest starting tighten, and his muscles freezing up. If the Combine didn’t get him, hunger or thirst would. He started to take deep breathes, in a faint attempt to calm himself down. He let out a large exhale, going still for a moment, before looking around the room again. The room was filled with computer monitors, there weren’t any vents on the side or on the ceiling. He began to feel himself panic, feeling his helmet starting to lock itself around his head, when something silver among all the blue caught his eye. He staggered forward, getting on his hands and knees under a terminal. He started crawling forward under all the wire, making a path for himself until he hit the wall. He ran his fingers along the silver square, his hand went up and down every few times. It was a vent! Boone sighed with relief, he started to get himself on his knees, digging his fingers on the metal grating, he pulled back, grunting in exhaustion. He relaxed, and then pulled back again, grunting with satisfaction as the vent popped off. He set the grate to the side, taking a last breath of “Fresh air” before beginning to crawl through the vent. The vent stopped abruptly, he looked down and saw that the vent led down towards a darkened drop. He adjusted himself, and slide in feet first, grabbing the edge of the drop with his fingers. He took one of the dusty grenades from his jacket, hanging on one hand, he bent his back, and planted his feet on the wall of the vent. He held the grenade in his hand, staring at the square of light just in front of him, full of computer terminals and information. He stuck his index finger out, hooking the pin around it. With a jerk of his index finger, the pin came off with a satisfying click, the grenade let off a slight chirp, the red light strobed once. Boone chucked the grenade forward, the grenade strobed a second time, another chirp coming from it. Boone relaxed his fingers on the edge of the drop, beginning to plummet. The grenade hit the inside of the vent just before the exit, strobing for the third time, the chirp coming out again, this time more high pitched. Boone felt himself sliding down the metallic walls as the grenade landed in a nest of wires. The red light began to strobe at a much faster rate, the chirping followed. “Chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp-chir-” The grenade exploded violently, sending shrapnel and loose wiring around like a tornado. The terminal above the grenade exploded violently, sending the pieces across the room and into the vents. The other terminals became heavily damaged as a result. Boone felt the vent shake as he fell, he looked up, seeing scorched pieces of machinery rain down through the vents. The vent began to level out, similar to a slide, he grabbed an adjacent vent as he slide, climbing into it as the shrapnel shredded through the vent behind him. Boone looked over his shoulder until the last piece, before continuing through the vent he had climbed in, into the dark.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HcuKVaDzUv8
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 44: Lament for the Fallen
Present-day October, 2017. Shortly after the Citadel is breached
Location: City 7 Citadel, upper level.
All was silent as Boone slide down the vent, the metallic walls bumping against his shoes as he slide. With a jarring bang, his feet smashed into the vent grating, propelling him through into a dark room. He let out a grunt as he landed in something soft and warm, he pushed himself into a half sitting position, a warm liquid starting to make its way onto his hand. He looked down, and realized he was laying on top of a body. He immediately recoiled, yelling out a panicked “Son of a bitch!” He shook himself of the loose blood droplets on his hand, before crouching down to examine the body. He squinted in the low light, noticing a large hole in the mans head. Execution, he thought grimly, standing back up. The smell of rotten flesh began to fill his nose as he looked around, realizing the room was filled with lifeless corpses, all of them having a large hole in their forehead. He began to wonder if these were captured resistance over the years, or if the Combine have already captured these many people over the course of this short uprising. A black blur quickly cut through the space between two bodies, before disappearing in a large pile of dead. Boone slowly unslung his MP7 as he started to hear the light squeaks of headcrabs. Figures the Combine wouldn’t know proper housing techniques and let their own house get infested. He started to make his way for the exit, when the squeaking began to crescendo, until reaching an unbearable concert of hissing and squeals. He turned around as headcrabs of mixed species began to approach from behind.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn1e7UjYS58
Boone raised his MP7 to his hips, firing wildly at the parasites as they began to approach. Blood exploded out of two as they fell on their sides limp, when another dodged his hail storm and leaped straight for him, its gapping maw wide open. Boone brought the side of his MP7 to his face, keeping a barrier between the two. The headcrab hissed fiercely, its leg scratching at him as it attempted to get past his MP7. Boone took his MP7, and whipped it towards the wall, sending the headcrab flying into the wall, the headcrab groaning as its leg refused to obey it. Boone quickly whipped around, his breath coming out in gasps as he began to hear the chant of squeaks and squeal increase in volume. He pushed forward, running forward into a darkened room with more bodies, each one covered in more blood then the last. One of the bodies on the floor rose from its slumber, a headcrab nestled on its head. He slowed to a stop out of instinct, and the zombie of a creature forcefully grabbed him on his shoulders, it leaned forward, yelling out in a slowed and distorted voice as the headcrab on top raised itself slightly, revealing the grotesque face of its victim. Boone let out a horrified scream as he swung his MP7 in an arch, nailing the zombie in the side of the head, causing it to tumble to the ground. He looked forward, and saw a rectangle of light ahead. He took a few gasps of air, before beginning to sprint the final stretch of hallway between him and the door. As he ran past, more zombies of different variation rose from their slumber, calling after him as he ran. He emerged into the light of a small hallway, outside of the chambers. He swung himself around, aiming to close the door, when a zombie on all fours emerged from the front of the group. It had a skinny little headcrab on its head and its flesh was gone, revealing only muscle and bone. It let out a horrifying shriek as it pounced forward towards the open door, the headcrab uprooting its frontal half of its body, enough to expose its victims face in a frozen scream, eyes wide open. Boone on instinct fired wildly, he quickly re-adjusted his aim to the left, emptying his clip into a terminal in the wall. The circuits inside the machine began to short circuit, and a metallic door hissed shut, a small bang heard from the other side, accompanied by louder bangs as the zombies attempted to get through. Boone leaned on the wall, putting his hands to his helmet as he attempted to pull himself together. He took in a shaky inhale, feeling himself about to cry, when his radio began to buzz. He took it out of his pocket gingerly, speaking into it. “Boone...” The Italian accent of 'Lucky’ greeted him.
“Boone, we’ve got a tag on you’re friend.”
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fA8y4M81plQ
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 45: Pursuit
Present-day October, 2017. A few hours into the Citadel being breached.
Location: ION floor
As Two-oh-three rounded the corner to sprint to the control room, Boone was sliding down in incline inside of a vent. Just as he passed an Oh-four, Boone struck. The vent exploded outward as he slide along the floor, a USP match in his hands. The oh-four recoiled in shock, too much in shock to react as Boone lined up his single red optic with the sights on his USP match. Just as he passed the Oh-four, he swung his arm holding the USP to the right, aiming it at the Oh-four before squeezing the trigger. The bullet penetrated through his helmet, blood exploding as he tumbled back into the wall. With his now free left hand, Boone used it to push himself up with what little momentum he still had. His heels tipped forward as he stood upright, sprinting for the unit ahead of him. 'Lucky’ had described Two-oh-three, or Mike Daring, as wearing a armband with the word GEAR on it, with the number 03 next to it. His vest and uniform was stained with oil, and a couple of blood stains, and the unit ahead of him fit the bill. As Two-oh-three entered the control room, he slammed his fist on a console to his right, and two large bulkhead door closed behind him. Boone slowed to a stop in front of the door, slamming his fist on the glass. “Dammit!” He exclaimed. He began to pant as the gunfire began to grow quieter, almost certain Civil Protection was winning. He turned to his right, where a vent hide on the corner of the wall. He turned back down the hall, the gunfire beginning to cease. He quickly hopped forward, crouching down next to the vent as he hooked his fingers on one of the gratings. He could hear two pairs of marching footsteps around the corner as he yanked the vent free, he began sliding inside feet first, when the two units rounded the corner, immediately noticing the downed Oh-four. They looked towards the vent as they saw movement, but saw nothing but the grating nudged into the vent, just as it should be.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNnhEOQZ2ME
Boone slowly scaled the vent as it shot straight up, his legs and arm spread out as he put his right and left arms up, then pushing both his legs up, and repeating the painful process. As he reached the top, he peered through the grating of the vent, judging by the open skies, he was now on the roof. He saw a body laying down, face up and blood pooling around it. It was a man, black hair, long... it was ‘Bowie’! Boone thought with glee. He looked towards his left, seeing two units. One unit was Two-oh-three, holding another unit wearing what looked like a dress, or maybe a coat, he couldn’t tell from where he was sitting. Two-oh-three seemed to be sobbing as he held the unit in his arms, his head low as the unit remained motionless. He sat there watching from the vent, feeling regret washing over him. After a while, the unit stood, carrying the dead unit off elsewhere, out of his view. Boone whistled softly as he was out of ear-shot, surprised that a unit even had feelings. They certainly barely showed it, he thought to himself. But he felt a light pang of regret stab through him, he hadn’t wished to hurt his friend, atleast emotionally. Boone was about to sorrowfully slide back down, and try to sneak back downstairs, which would be impossible with all those units downstairs, when the vent creaked loudly. He felt himself looking up as the connections between the vent and the wall began to come loose.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41ISNLgDrR0
The vent continued to creak as it struggled to keep together, the vent tilting back slightly with each creak and groan. Boone began to feel himself panic, certainly a fall down thousands of flights wouldn’t be very good for him. He took the risk, and loosened his grip on the walls, causing him to slide down the vents at dizzying speeds as the vent continued to tilt backwards. As he looked up, he could see the sky through the window of light from above, and felt himself being pushed onto the wall of the vent behind him. He released his grip, now sliding along the bottom of the vent with his hands and legs. With a final groan, the vent released its grip on the wall, plummeting down. Boone was thrown upwards, about a foot into the air, slamming into the vent face in front of him. Boone could feel the wind howling in his ears as the vent tilted in mid-air, feeling a large sense of vertigo as he seemed to float inside the vent, but he was just slightly faster then the wall behind him. As soon as he felt the despairing weight of death push down on him, he was brought back to a reality when a jarring crash knocked the wind out of him. He took a few troubled breathes, his ribs screaming with each breath he took. As soon as he regained control, he noticed the vertigo was gone, and that he was laying on the wall of the vent. He looked towards the small square of light ahead him, seeing the blue of the combine walls ahead of him. He began to inch his way forward towards the light, the vent creaking as it began tilting backwards. He began to crawl faster, gasping in short gasps of pain as his ribs were set on fire. He felt the vent tilting back, almost at a thirty degree angle as Boone continued to climb. He grabbed the edge of the exit, pulling himself up as the vent remained at a forty-five degree angle. He pulled himself out, feeling his head and chest escape into the light as he saw the outside of the vent, balancing itself on the edge of a wall on the Citadel. Judging by where he was, he was a few floors below ION, and someone blew a hole into the wall of the Citadel. Lucky me, he thought as he began to feel the vent inch forward back into a bottomless drop. Boone pulled his legs out of the vent, the vent scrapping along the metallic combine walls as it began to slide back down. Boone crawled onto the edge of the vent, pushing forward with his legs and stretching his arms out as he hung in mid-air. He felt himself slam onto the floor below him, his ribs exploding as he looked over his shoulder, he just caught the vent as it slide off the edge, plummeting to the ground. Boone rolled onto his back, putting a hand on his chest as he breathed hoarsely, the wind lightly blowing outside.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xX9C0rYqGjE
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 46: Descent
Present-day October, 2017.
Location: Citadel upper levels.
The floor was silent, save for the soft scrapping of boots against the ground, and the occasional metallic scrap as a piece of metal brushed against the ground. Boone trudged through the ruined Citadel floor, pieces of metal littering the floor and wires hanging limp from the ceiling. All he wanted to do now was leave this metallic blue hell, but not before dealing with Two-oh-three first. He lightly kicked a piece of metal on the floor, watching it skid along the ground as it stopped with a crash into a small pile of more metal. He quickened his pace slightly as he saw the elevator shaft, the doors were pried open, and as Boone looked down the elevator shaft, it descended deep into the Citadel, so far Boone couldn’t even see the bottom. Boone shifted his helmeted head as he looked up the shaft, seeing no evidence of a lift. He straightened out, looking straight as he noticed the rail that held the elevator. He looked around, seeing that the part of the shaft he was in was made of glass, showing what seemed to be a large facility, filled with pods. His red optic reflected everything he saw as he imagined what lay inside, he shuddered lightly. He looked down the shaft, then back up, looking at the rail. Boone lowered his head slightly, shaking it from side to side as he backed up slightly. “Boone.. what’re you doing?” He muttered to himself as he bent his knees slightly, lowering himself down slightly. Before he could stop himself, he was already putting his right leg forward, then his left, seeing his legs alternate as he sprinted towards the elevator, looking up as the rail took up his view. He leaped forward. He felt weightless as he flew through the air, before colliding with the metallic rail. He let out a loud grunt as his ribs protested, he felt himself beginning to plummet as he instinctively wrapped his arms and legs around the rail. He leaned back slightly, looking back up at the square of light, a few feet above him. The light reflected off his optic as he sighed and turned himself around, no turning back now, he thought. He loosened his grip on the railing, feeling himself slide down the rail. He loosed his grip more and felt himself slide down the rail at a decently fast speed, he passed through the glassed section, being surrounded in total darkness. “Woo-hoo!” He hollered. He passed into another glassed section, looking around as millions of pods were transported to various parts of the Citadel. He looked around, the light bathing his helmet making him look almost curious. He felt the rail rumble as a metallic screeching from above caught his attention, he looked up, a dark orange square racing towards him as sparks erupted from all four corners. Boone yelled out, releasing as much grip as he dared, feeling himself plummet as he loosely held the railing, the metallic square chasing after. The screeching pounded against his ears as he passed through glassed and non-glassed sections in seconds, not even giving him enough time to examine each. The glassed sections slowly stopped appearing, now being plunged in total darkness as he began falling through what seemed to be different types of floors, for the units. He passed through a section with four hallways splitting off in different directions, he thought for a moment, before remembering it was where him and his team played tag with a mob of units, he thought humorously. He was suddenly bathed in an artifical blue light, he looked around, and excitingly recognized it as the first floor. He released the grip of the rail, atleast with his legs, tilting his body slightly as he swung his legs back, before swinging them forward, like a sideways swing set. He released his grip on the rail, like when someone jumps out of a swing set when at the highest swing, only sideways. He was thrown forwards, landing on his side as the burning square screamed past into the lower levels of the Citadel. He got on his hands and knees, coughing into his arm as he turned to look at the scorched elevator railing, and at everyone mindlessly staring at him. He shakily stood up, everyone wore resistance vests, so they were atleast on his side. He raised a hand in greeting, his other hand holding his sore ribs.
-
//We need more of this, and we need it now. Good that it hasn't died like most journals/stories after the first page or so...
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA6zH7gKSr4
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 47: Cleaning House
Present-day October, 2017.
Location: The Citadel, first floor
Boone ran the back of his hand on the front of his jacket, loose dust fluttering to the ground as the army of Civil protection vest-wearing resistance stared at him. He lightly shrugged, opening his mouth to speak when someone began desperately pushing their way through the crowd. He stopped just a few feet in front of him, panting as he attempted to speak. After a few more moments, he held up his index finger, continuing to breath hoarsely. Boone nodded softly as the man straightened up, his breathing back to normal, he began to speak. “Lucky needs to talk to you, he’s in an old building nearby.” Boone nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way. He turned around, beginning to push his way through the crowd as Boone followed close behind. A metallic groaning was heard ahead of them, a light hissing accompanying it, and light began to pour in through a rectangular hole. As they made their way closer, Boone found it was a large bulkhead door. They emerged outside, being bathed in a dark orange sunlight. The clouds were tinted a dark yellow as Boone looked up into the sky, the sun a perfect orange disk as it began to set on the horizon. The sun was just dark enough to be able to look straight into it without turning away.Boone, under his helmet and his gauze facewrap, smiled lightly as he took a deep breath of fresh hair. The man he was following turned as he walked, flashing a smile. “Beautiful, ain’t it?” Boone nodded without hesitation. The man chuckled lightly, turning back around as they made their way out of the proximity of the Citadel, now striding through the streets as their shadows stretched along the grey concrete. As he walked, he saw others walk the streets in resistance vests, they would nod in his direction, before quickly turning away. Something about it just didn’t seem to sit right with him as he began to think about it. They then turned into a nearby alleyway, making their way through a maze of brick and concrete before being met with a small rundown building in the heart of it. The man opened a rotting wood door, holding it open as he gestured Boone to enter. He walked inside, feeling alert as he was exposed to the dusty air. This building most not have been touched in months, judging by the lack of care, or even interaction, to the building. He walked up a flight of stairs, as he reached the top, he saw a handheld radio in the middle of the floor, a lamp shining down on it from above. As he began walking forward, he noticed bunks and trunks scattered around, surrounding the handheld. He picked up the radio, holding it uneasily in his hand. He felt a sense of dread wash over him, he had seen things like this before in spy novels. One way or another, the radio was going to explode in his hand, and probably in his face. He let out a soft exhale, quickly bringing himself back to reality, he brought the handheld to the mouth of his helmet, speaking into it. “Y’ello?” Lucky’s gravely voice came through the radio. “Ah, good to see you’re still alive my friend!” Lucky exclaimed. Boone turned slightly, looking over his shoulder periodically. “No thanks to your friend 'Bowie’, he left me in a terminal room to rot.”
“Oh.. well, I’m sorry to hear, where is the crazy little bastard anyhow?”
“Dead.” Boone had trouble keeping the happiness out of his voice.
“Ah.. well, thats too bad, it seems as if he failed...”
Boone looked over his shoulder again, before speaking. “Failed what? May I ask.”
“Getting rid of you.” A loud wooden bang was heard from below as the door below slammed open. “You see Boone, you’re not exactly the most... loyal, I’ve had here in the Watchers, so I’m afraid this is a Coup.” Boone felt his breathing quicken as his vision darted around the room. “You understand, besides, I wasn’t willing to share City 7 with you anyway.”
“I’ll see you in hell, you fat Italian bastard.” He sneered.
“Hehe, I’m sure you will...” He taunted.
“Goodbye, Mister Boone, or, as they say in Italy, Goditi la tua morte!” The radio clicked off, Boone threw it to the floor in anger, the radio exploding into diodes and wires.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0mbW3DlfFA
(// You can either listen from the beginning, or skip to 2:25 or 4:12, whichever tickles your fancy)
Boone stood alone in the room, filled with a sense of betrayal and hate when the soft pitter-patter of feet against wooden stair-casing brought him quickly to his senses. He quickly made his way out of the spotlight, he hid behind one of the bunks as a resistance member made his way around the corner, MP7 in hand as he aimed towards the spotlight, only to find he wasn’t there. Two more followed behind as they looked around the room, including the person who brought him here. He swiveled around the corner of the bunk, the sights of his USP match lined up with his single red optic as it burned with hate. The one in front saw this movement, his eyes widening as he began to bring his MP7 up to his eyes, but was far too late. Boone’s USP spat out a single round, the business end of his USP match painting the room a brilliant yellow as the bullet exploded from the chamber. The walls were quickly splattered red as the bullet tunneled through the mans forehead, sending blood and bone fragments into the wall and the two men behind him. He quickly adjusted his aim to the one aiming his MP7, the man looked around the room as he struggled to look for Boone in the dark. By the time his eyes met his single red optic, it was much too late, the room flashed bright yellow as the bullet was sent flying towards its target. The mans eyes widened as the bullet penetrated the large vein in his neck, blood streaming out like a cut hose. He too tumbled backwards as the last man, the one who brought Boone here in the first place, looked in shock as Boone stood from his hiding spot, calmly approaching the man. The man, covered in the blood and bone fragments of his comrades, nervously brought his MP7 to his eye as Boone made his way into the light. With a single movement, Boone brought his hand up, firing into the mans hand. The man screamed, his MP7 clattered to the floor as he looked at his bloody hand. By the time he looked back up, there was no space separating him and Boone. Boone grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer as he shoved the barrel of his USP match into the bottom of his chin, just above his Adams apple. “Now tell me...” Boone began, tears rolling down the mans face as he spoke. “..One thing... and I’ll let you live to see the moon... do you understand?” The man nodded through his tears, his lip quivering. Boone leaned in, so that the man could feel Boone’s breathing through his dormant respirator. “Where... is... he?” Boone hissed. The man let out a choked sob, before yelling out. “The bar! He’s in the damn bar!” Boone nodded, he threw the man to the ground, aiming his USP match at his leg as he fired a white hot round into his thigh. The man yelled out in pain, grasping his leg as he looked at Boone in shock. Boone only shrugged. “I said I’d let you live, I didn’t say I wouldn’t shoot you.” Boone took a step forward, before turning back towards him, bending down and grasping the radio from his chest, yanking it off and throwing it to the ground, stomping down on it once, sending plastic and wires exploding from underneath his boot. “Don’t want you calling friends, now do I?” He turned around after that, making his way quickly down the stairs with only a soft pitter-patter as he pushed his way through a door in the back, racing out into the maze of alleys.
-
Just so you know that it is way too crowded in one paragraph, plus the usage of one word such as "He" and "Boone." Just some mistakes but in the end, it's overall good.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HY1fEfJ5IYs
(// I’d suggest skipping to about 1:50)
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 48: A Game of Shadows
Present-day October, 2017
Location: City 7, the alleyways nearest the train-station
“<:: Overwatch, prep for contact!” As Boone heard the order relayed, his flattened himself against the brickwork of a run down building. His fingers drummed lightly against the grip of his USP match as he listened closely to the soft marching of footsteps around the corner. Judging by the pairs of footfalls at a time, he had to guess there were two or three Overwatch units around that corner. He shifted uneasily from side to side, he had killed a few Overwatch and Civil Protection alike, but could he take on three Overwatch units alone? He had began to think about retreating back and finding another path, when a curious shifting took place around the corner. He shifted uneasily, gulping quietly as he awaited for the helmeted head to come around the corner and see him. He looked down at his shadow, and realized how god damned long it was, and saw the silhouette of the large Overwatch unit towered over his shadow. He weighed his pistol in his hand, still loaded, about three quarters of a magazine. It was now or never, this was his best chance while the unit was off-guard.
He whipped around the corner, pistol arm aimed outward.
The Overwatch unit was an elite, its white helmet recoiled as Boone suddenly appeared from the corner. If its helmet could make facial expressions, its single red optic would probably be very wide. It let out a startled “<:: Shit!” as it recoiled back, fumbling for the OSIPR slung on its back. Boone began to take in things all at once as everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. There was one unit, wearing the standard Overwatch uniform, looking down an alleyway, about two yards away. There was another one looking down the way the small squad had come, it wore a black and red uniform, what were those type of units again, grenadier’s? It didn’t matter much, things began to almost speed up as Boone fired a burst into the Elites helmet. It let out a vocoded yell, it tumbled backwards, holding its 'face’ before tumbling to the ground, still, but Boone wasn’t sure it was dead. The black and red unit begun to turn around, it held a Spas-12 in its gloved hands. Shotgunners! Thats what they were! Boone’s left hand swung around from behind him, supporting his right hand as he adjusted his aim at the Shotgunner, who was now looking at him with fiery orange optics, as if it were angry. Boone began squeezing off rounds into the units chest, it flinched with the first shot, shrugging it off as it were nothing, but then doubled over as the second, third and fourth hit. Boone took another moment to aim, before firing once again, straight at the top of the Shotgunners helmet. Blood exploded from the top of the helmet like an ecstatic water hose. The Shotgunner toppled forward onto the ground, its shotgun clattering on the concrete. Boone saw the last unit already aiming at him from the corner of his eye, or single-optic in this case. He let go of the pistol with his left hand, swinging his pistol arm towards the OSIPR wielding unit as Boone dove to the right, firing blindly. The unit unleashed a hail fire of pulse rounds where Boone was standing, the stream of rounds began to follow Boone’s path, but not before the third pistol round struck the unit right above the kneecap. It let out a vocoded howl of pain, letting go of its OSIPR with its left hand as the unit grabbed its leg with his left hand. Boone hit the ground with a jarring crash, letting out his own scream of pain as he skidded along the ground. His right arm feeling as if it were on fire, he lifted his USP match to his optic, emptying the remains of the magazine into the unit. The unit let out another yelp of pain as a round struck his thigh, and then tumbled backwards as the rest peppered through the units vest and into its chest. The unit lay still on the ground, its leg twitching slightly as the biosignal-lost transmission howled from its now dead vocoder. Boone took pants of both relief and fright, feeling as though Death had just passed his house on the way to another appointment. He gingerly got back to his feet, wiping some dust from his jacket and his pants. He released the now empty magazine from his USP Match, letting it clatter uselessly to the floor as he slide in a fresh one. He felt around the side-pockets of his backpack, still a few mags left. It would last, or atleast he would make it last. He turned towards the setting sun, there was about a quarter of it left still on the horizon from where he could see it, but there was probably more of it then he could see. He began wishing he had found out how long it is between sunset and nightfall, but that won’t matter in a matter of.. minutes? An hour? He sighed lightly, making his way forward, he hefted up the Spas-12 the Shotgunner had dropped. He weighed in his hands, and shook his head, too much weight, not enough benefit, not without ammo. He released his grip, letting the shotgun clatter to the ground next to its dead master. He turned towards the sun a final time, tugging on the strap of his backpack, before setting off.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ONr9X-8l2Q
Fifteen minutes later, in an abandoned apartment complex.
Boone stood outside of the worn apartment complex, his shadow stretching up the worn brickwork wall. He put his left hand on the door handle, his USP match held tightly in his right. He glanced behind him, checking to make sure no one was behind him. Nothing, the only sounds were that of the wind and the occasional rustle of loose garbage. He pushed down slowly on the door handle, still scanning the alleyway behind him as the mechanisms inside the door slowly opened the door as he pushed down. There was a final click, and the handle wouldn’t budge any farther. Boone stood still a moment, scanning the alleyway one last time, before turning himself back to the door.
He pushed forward, the metal door groaned metallically.
As soon as he opened the door, the air began to smell faintly... and not in a good way. As he entered, the smell grew stronger, the air hung heavier, threatening to make its way through his helmet, and... and.. his head twitched to the right, his eyes shut closed. A moment passed as he held his breath, he released it, shaking himself of his fears, although he could feel them lingering in the back of his mind. He took another breath, pausing before continuing his way through the building. The green tint of the air around him made him uneasy. He had his pistol raised, everything was quiet, all was calm. As he made his way into a four-way intersection, he felt himself breathing quicker, feeling as if something were to sneak behind him, he began stuffing that in the back of his head.
When something black with two legs flashed in the corner of his eye.
He whipped around, aiming his USP match down the hall he saw it in, just enough to get a glimpse of a boney foot race behind the wall, and then all was silent, save for his heart hammering in his ears. He stood still, debating whether or not he should see if its still there or continue on his general path. If he followed whatever was here, he could be wandering for hours, and who knows what he else he would find. Besides, he needed to go the general direction of the train station. He started to side-step back the way he was going, keeping his pistol trained on the corridor, before turning around and keeping it trained down the hallway behind him. He was so focused on guarding his back, that when he bumped into a set of double doors, he whipped around and pistol whipped the door, letting out an atrocious bang. He held his chest as he panted, making sure his heart was still breathing as he was sure it had stopped. He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was behind him. He slowly swiveled forward, he put his left hand on the door handle, lightly pushing it forward.
The door creaked, and echoed loudly in the next room.
Boone cringed, pausing once more, before walking softly on the balls of his feet, scanning what appeared to be a rundown lunchroom area.
The room was littered with bodies.
As Boone walked to the middle of the rather large room, he noticed that most of the dead here wore standard City 7 jumpsuits, and only had a single gunshot wound in the middle of their forehead. He stopped in his tracks when he realized the headshot victims all shared something in common, they were all in a perfect line on the floor. These people had been executed. Not killed, executed, not even given a fighting chance. His left hand balled into a fist, this was why he was fighting, and he wouldn’t stop until the very last bullet. His jaw hardened as he glanced at the other bodies, long claw-like hands, bloodied neck-chest areas.. faces frozen in mid-scream.
Zombies...
Boone shuddered lightly as he took in the stench of the room, the bodies, it started to get under his skin. He whipped around, scanning the room for any movement. In the corner, he could see a figure sitting in the corner, something on his head. Boone felt dread stab through him as he approached the still figure, pistol held tightly in both hands, barrel aimed towards the ground and to the left. As he got closer, he saw the grotesque figure of a headcrab sucking, or I guess in this case humping, the top of the mans head, the man was unnaturally still. Boone looked at the body with a certain sadness, the man never had a chance. He raised his pistol, coming to the decision that he wouldn’t let this headcrab live, nor any further headcrab he met. The headcrab’s six black eyes looked up at him as it continued to process the human, what he saw was almost innocence, fear. He started to grit his teeth, hesitating as his finger put light pressure on the trigger. The headcrab let out a light growl, Boone jumped slightly, expecting the headcrab to uproot and attack, but it didn’t, it just remained where it was. Boone took a soft exhale, he took a step forward,
and fired.
The headcrab let out a sickening squeal as it rocketed off of the mans mangled head, it flopped onto the ground, letting out a light groan as it let out its last parasitic breath. Boone lowered his pistol, realizing just now how loud that all was, still faintly hearing the echo of his gunshot in the buildings halls. How could people keep these damn things as pets? It made him wonder about the poison headcrab he had heard about back in Ineu, he wondered what happened to the little demon, when he heard hoarse breathing coming from the hallway to his left. “Fuck...” He cursed quietly, raising his pistol towards the hall as a 'Fast-zombie’ came stumbling in, and as the moans began to get progressively louder.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2dmUJZZFi8
Boone felt himself jump as he squeezed the trigger, firing a frightened shot towards the skinned zombie. The zombie flinched as the bullet struck it in the thigh, it turned towards him, the legs on the headcrab curling tighter on the head of the zombie in anger. The fast zombie began to hunker down, it leaped forward, and began to sprint forward on all fours. Boone adjusted his aim as the abomination charged, the zombie hopped up on the table, before leaping like a skinned frog towards him, claws outstretched. Boone gritted his teeth as he squeezed the trigger, once, twice, three times into the zombie’s abdomen and chest. The zombie let out a pain-filled shriek as it skid along the floor, lifeless. Boone jumped back as the zombie slowed to a stop, afraid it would hop up and start clawing him to death. As Boone pulled himself from together, he began to notice limping figures on the right. Great. He began to make himself to the middle of the room, taking small pop shots at the zombies. Looking up on the balcony, he saw a poison zombie, with poison headcrabs on its back, roaring in an absolute rage. Boone shuddered from the yell, not sure if it were a battle cry, or a cry for help. Nevertheless, he raised his USP match, he squeezed off three rounds in rapid succession. The first round hit the wall, the second hitting the zombie scare in the chest, not even making it flinch, and the third hit a metallic cylinder that hissed as the pistol struck it, before exploding violently. The poison zombie was annihilated in the blast, a burnt corpse tumbling over the balcony railing. As Boone turned towards the oncoming horde, one of the supporting pillars came loose, and came crashing down on top of the zombies in front, flattening the zombies into hideous, skin pancakes. Dust began to flutter around the room, making everything hard to see, and hard to breath. Even with his helmet on, Boone had to bring his shirt up to the mouth of his helmet. He heard a second crash, and became even more blind, another pillar had fallen. He turned towards a square hole in the dusty inferno, he staggered forward, feeling his feet brush against soft carpet as he ventured through. It was getting harder and harder for him to concentrate on the path ahead, he hoped the crashes he was hearing were zombies banging pots and pans, and not the building collapsing. Sure enough, the crashing got louder behind him, and he saw the ceiling cave in in the intersection behind him. He turned back around, spotting a patch of light a couple dozen yards away. He increased his pace, just in time to hear the screeches of a fast zombie behind him, then another one. Just focus on running! He thought loudly to himself as the screeches increased in volume. The light was getting bigger and bigger as he approached, but the dust was also getting more and more thick as he went. He yelped as he felt razor sharp claws dig into his leg, he instinctively lashed out, before breaking out into a full-on sprint. The square of light was almost big enough for him to cover with his hand if he put it an inch to his face, he made a soft grunt and began to stumble. He flailed his arms about as he continued to fall forward, his legs still pumping him forward. With what seemed like a sickening crash, he fell on his chest on the soft carpet rug, his hands could just feel the concrete on the outside. He took heavy breathes, trying to breath through the dust, when he looked over his shoulder. An entire army of zombies were stumbling towards him, with dust raining down from the ceiling, and a fast zombie less then a yard away. Boone rolled over onto his back, squeezing off the rounds still left in the magazine of his USP at the fast zombie. The zombie fell on its face as multiple pistol rounds pierced its legs, it looked up at Boone, and furiously began crawling towards him with its arms. It clawed at his feet as he crawled on his back out of the building, his upper torso bathed in sunlight as he squeezed off another round into the headcrab sitting atop the zombie. The zombie flopped to the floor, and Boone let out more sickening coughs as he emerged from the building on his back. The zombie raised a skinless arm as if as a final challenge, before the ceiling above it caved in, piercing the zombies back, and cutting off any way back. Boone, still coughing from the amount of dust in his lungs, flopped on the ground on his back, panting and coughing. He tilted his head back slightly, and caught eye of the train station.
Thank god.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXT50IgwvmY
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 49: When Worlds Clash
Present-day October, 2017
Location: City 7, just outside the Train station
Boone gingerly sat up, making a sharp breath as his ribs protested. He lay a hand on them, still feeling them burning as they did earlier, perhaps he really had broken them, or atleast bruised them. He began to get to his feet, taking it slow as his ribs continued to plead for him to stop, but he couldn’t just lay there! He finally got to his feet, left hand held against his sore ribs with his right hand holding his USP match. Boone hunched over slightly, breathing in deeply, trying to curb the pain. For once in a long while, Boone actually felt like he wasn’t going to live through this one. Boone straightened up slightly, he turned around, looking towards the train station. He could just leave if he wanted to, go back to Ineu Pass and forget all about this. He stared at the train station, when it hit him. What would he be coming back to? A close circle of friends, who were either dead, missing, or gone, that blasted poison headcrab, Antlions at every turn, and that Scarecrow guy, who was really just a guy he had met along the road. What was his name, had he ever introduced himself? Boone shook his head to himself. No, he was staying
and he was going to finish this.
With a soft grunt, he began to make his way to the benches in front of the large, Combine monument. He extended a hand, letting his fingers run along the black, twisted steel fence. He stopped at a wooden bench, gently sitting down upon it. He dipped his head, feeling now was a better time to get some sleep, or atleast to get his thoughts together. His fingers lightly drummed against his thighs as he thought of what to do. As he thought for a moment, he had a simple plan form in his mind, one that would probably get him killed.
Kill ‘Lucky’.
Save Mike Daring.
It was a simple as that, and he actually had a chance of surviving the way everything was going. He nodded slightly to himself, when the distinctive sound of a pistol click ringed out to his right. His head swiveled around, and there he saw a unit in the standard uniform, stained with a mixture of oil and bloodstains on his vest and pants, aswell as a little bit on the bottom of his mask. He also wore a datapad-looking device on his right wrist, the one that held the sidearm. Boone’s heart seemed to skip a beat, here he was, staring into the soulless optics of someone who had been his friend, and here he was, aiming a pistol in his face. The unit’s optics seemed to stare through him, almost as if Boone had murdered his wife or something. The unit’s arm shifted slightly as his forefinger pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened, but a click.
The unit pulled the pistol back, examining it from the side, as if shocked it would do such a thing. Boone wouldn’t have been surprised if the unit would swear that he would find the pistols family and slaughter them. He slowly stood from the bench, letting out a light groan as he held his side, his head bent down as he straightened up, staring at the unit. The unit saw him stand, he seemed to tense, staring at Boone as if ready to block whatever Boone would throw at him. Boone brought his hand up to the mouth of his helmet, clearing his throat, before speaking. “Two-oh-three, is it?” The unit’s head pulled back lightly in surprise, relaxing slightly as he spoke in a vocoded voice, but one that still had that same light, humorous tone of his friend Mike Daring. “<:: Yes.”
“Then you know who I am.”
Two-oh-three looked down slightly, as if completely confused and distraught about this whole conversation. He ran a hand down the back of his neck, scratching it, before looking at Boone. “<:: No.” Boone swallowed down a mouthful of saliva. Ouch, that stung. He took a small step forward, trying to seem non-hostile and friendly, but Two-oh-three took a step back. Boone stopped, before speaking. “Its me... Mike Boone? We.. we were friends.. when we were both transferred here.” The two remained silent as they stared at each other through their optics. The wind blew, and the sun was beginning to set, night creeping along the horizon. Finally, Two-oh-three’s right hand touched the top of his helmet, bending his head down lightly as he seemed to be painfully pulling up memories one by one. He breathed hoarsely through his vocoder, looking as if he were about to shed the uniform and become the man he once knew, when he simply straightened up, staring at Boone, but still in the manner that suggested he didn’t remember him. “<:: I remember...” Two-oh-three began. “<:: You were.. you were here... an-and...” Two-oh-three trailed off, taking a half step back. “<:: I-it.. it can’t be..” Two-oh-three said, shaking his head, trying to deny it. “<:: I.. I would never... ever.. be friends with a 647-E..” Ouch. Two-oh-three took heavy breathes, before shaking his head again. “<:: I can still correct this...” He reached back, that was when Boone spotted the MP7 on his back. Boone held a hand out “Don’t!” He pleaded. “I came all this way! I fought through resistance and Combine alike, to free you!” Two-oh-three paused, and shook his head. “<:: You’re the enemy...” He drew his MP7, sliding the frontal grip into his left hand. “<:: I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
Boone stood in shock as his friend, the only one outside of Ineu he felt he could trust, aimed an MP7 with an intent to kill him. Boone looked up straight in his optics. “So thats it then?” Two-oh-three stood silent, the light sound of his gloves tightening around his MP7 worried him. Boone’s jaw tightened, before he quickly aimed his USP match that he held in his right hand. He fired a quick shot, aiming for the MP7. A spark flew from the side of the MP7, the bullet ricocheting off the side as Two-oh-three dropped it to the floor. Boone threw his USP match to the ground, sprinting forward, and pushed his weight against him as he attempted to tackle him to the ground. Two-oh-three seemed to catch him by his torso as he ran into him, the Combine must of done more then just brainwash them. After a moment of struggle, Two-oh-three pushed Boone back, causing him to tumble onto the ground on his back. Two-oh-three came surging forward, standing on top of him, his right hand forming into a fist, which caused two claws to come out of the datapad on his wrist, the claws looked eerily like something from the Predator movies. He used his left hand to pin his chest to the ground as he raised his right hand into the air, basically laying on him now. Boone stared at the claws for a moment in resignation, when he remembered his USP match, he looked to the right, seeing the fallen pistol just within his reach. He quickly looked back towards Two-oh-three, left hand balled into a fist, he swung, striking him in his faceplate. Ouch! Harder then he thought, but he had gotten the reaction he had wanted, it had disorientated Two-oh-three. Boone stretched his right arm, feeling the strain when his fingers found purchase. He pulled the pistol closer with his fore and middle finger, before gripping it in his right hand. He whipped around, shoving the business end of his USP match into his right thigh. Two-oh-three looked down, frozen for the few milliseconds it took Boone to pull the trigger. Two-oh-three let out a vocoded scream, tumbling off him. Boone crawled to the right, watching as his friend grip his leg, blood pooling out from his thigh. Boone got wearily to his feet, he almost considered raising his pistol and killing him, but he couldn’t bring up the courage to do so. He began to stagger away, when he heard a metallic rustling behind him. He turned around, only to see Two-oh-three with a USP match in his hand. He fired, and he felt as if a tiny train had just plowed through his stomach. He tumbled back, and fell to the ground. He couldn’t move, he felt no feeling in his fingers, and it seemed like a feat of legend if he could only wiggle his toes. He could feel the wet feeling of his own blood as it left his body. This was finally the end, it was finally over. Boone laid his head back, about to except death.
When an explosion brought him back. It had been the sound of multiple grenades, he bent his head back, seeing the debris that blocked the left path away from the train station had been cleared, and it led directly towards the slums, which lead to the sewers! Boone began to crawl towards the path, his stomach screaming almost as much as his ribs were. Despite his pain, he managed to stand to his feet, he looked towards the path, and saw members of the Watchers heading his way, or more, Two-oh-three’s. He began making his way forward, when he got within a yard of one of the members, he looked up, and fired a round straight through his jaw. Blood exploded from the man’s skull, he flopped to the ground in a bloody heap. Boone began running at a fast a pace as he could manage, firing potshots at his enemies behind him. He heard the sound of gunfire ring out behind him, concrete from in front of him exploded from under his feet as he ran, sending loose bits of gravel flying. He looked over his shoulder, seeing that Two-oh-three was firing as well, well, firing at the people that were shooting at him. Was he doing this for Boone? Or for his own benefit? Boone didn’t care, he swung about, nearly falling to the ground, and began firing at the resistance aiming at Two-oh-three. He nailed one in the back, getting the next one in the back of his knee. That would have to be enough. He swung back around, and break for the opened hole in the debris. He heard a second, larger explosion behind him, but didn’t think it best to go and find out.
Boone had been running for a solid five minutes when he felt as if he had been stabbed in the stomach. He slowed to a stop, gripping his side as blood continued to seep out of him. He breathed heavily, tucking his pistol in his jacket, and unbuttoning it. There wasn’t a hole in his jacket from the bullet, but there was one in his shirt. Lucky shot, he had shot between the two buttons. He was deep inside the slums, no one would jump him, hopefully. He swung off his backpack, flipping it open and rummaging inside. He knew he packed a roll of gauze, he needed it for his head gauze wrap! After a moment of despair, he felt his hands brush against something soft and papery, he grabbed it, and pulled it out. Gauze, yes! He set his backpack down on the ground, sitting down slowly against the brickwork wall. He pressed the end of the gauze wrap on his bullet wound, he bite down hard on his teeth, feeling them grind together as he began to wrap the gauze around his stomach, or more around the spot between his stomach and his rib cage. He looked up slightly, trying to keep his screams down his throat. He used enough of the gauze until the wound was completely covered and felt tight enough. He felt around his back, not exit wound, good, good. He looked back down, tying a basic knot with the rest of the gauze. God, he could already see his own blood through the bandage. He had the knot finished, he quickly tightened it, and thought he was going to black out. He looked up, moaning a tad loudly before relaxing again. His head dipped down as he controlled his breathing. That would keep him from bleeding out until he got back to Ineu for proper treatment, and hopefully starve off infection, if thats how infections worked. He slowly picked himself up, grabbing his backpack and slinging it on his back. He put his shirt back down over his stomach, and re-did the buttons on his jacket, feeling around his right breast for the outline of his USP match, yup, still there. He then began the trek through the maze of buildings, knowing this is where he went when he escaped to the Outlands the first time.
-
//You can come back for a big hug from Zakky! :D
-
// Looking forward to it ;)
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agp6_IqNVLw
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 50: Decay
Present-day November, 2017
Location: City 7, Slums district, by a large, decaying warehouse
The sun had set, City Seven was covered in a shroud of darkness, it was almost unbearably quiet in the slums district. It was silent in the slums, the only sounds being heard are that of the soft whistle of the wind, and the soft sound of trash being blown across the concrete. In the middle of a small clearing of buildings, there stood a warehouse, or maybe something like a greenhouse judging by the windows on top. The warehouse had obviously seen better days, holes were common throughout the sheet-metal walls, the windowed-roof had large, gaping holes in the glass. It was a depressing sight, a place where people escaped to the Outlands, a place of freedom, now nothing more then a quiet grave.
But legends never die, and this warehouse, despite its desolateness, still served its purpose of safely transporting people to the Outlands.
Amongst the silent, the light tap of shoes against concrete lightly echoed in the clearing. Out of darkness, a figure suddenly began materializing out of one of the dark alleys. The figure held his side with his left arm pressed against the region between his ribs and stomach, his right hand held a USP match. Boone tiredly looked up, the warehouse was in his view, as ruined as it was, it was still functional. Boone was coming home. With a soft whimper, Boone began trudging forward, as if the soft blue light the moon gave caused resistance. He twisted slightly to the right, shoving against the old, metallic doors. They gave a soft creak as Boone put more force, eventually using both hands to shove the door open. The metallic door flung open, and then came off its hinges, letting out a horrific bang as dust exploded from around it. Boone wrapped his left arm around his torso, pressing his arm against the wound while his left hand held on. He coughed lightly as he breathed in some of the loose dust. He looked at his shadow as it stretched along the dusty old floor, his shadow black against the soft blue. Boone made his way forward, looking around for that carpet that hid the metal grate. He heard the grating of metal under his feet after a moment, he looked down, he was standing on a carpet, noticing the blood stains on it stabbed Boone with a pang of regret. He dug his foot underneath the carpet, flinging it away as it mushroomed into more dust. Boone bent down slightly, the grate was still left half open, he grabbed underneath it, pulling it away from the hole. He slid in feet first, holding himself up with his right hand, his back pushed against the wall. He reached forward, grabbing the grate with his pinky and ring finger, pulling it closer to the hatch. He loosened his pressure against the wall, sliding into the hole just enough so he could put the grating over the hole, but not perfectly sliding it in, so others could escape. With that, Boone loosened his pressure on the wall, feeling himself slide down the wall, into the dark of the sewers below.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LlkYz6Il4JM
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 51: Vulnerability
Present-day November, 2017
Location: City 7, Rat-ways
Boone’s legs began to cramp up as he slide down the narrow shaft, he didn’t remember the shaft being this damned long. After a moment, he began to hear the chattering of rats below, he looked down, in the low light, he could just faintly see the quick grey blur that was sewer rats. No wonder this was called the Rat-ways. He released the pressure his back was putting on the wall, he pulled his legs back and down, and landing with a soft thump as a cloud of sewer dirt surrounded his knees. He looked around him, the ceiling was just big enough to give him about half a foot of head space, and the floor was a soft grey.
But why was it moving?
He began to notice that the floor moved erratically, almost as if running away from him. He tilted his head to the side as the floor stopped, and saw the black beady eyes of sewer rats staring back at him. They all kept a safe distance from Boone, unmoving. This disturbed Boone, he was afraid they would form into a large, hairy wave and swallow him. He took a step forward, and the rats closest quickly scattered, quickly scurrying into small rat holes. Boone looked around at the small ocean of rats, before beginning to walk forward, maybe these rats smelt the scent of his blood, but were too afraid to attack. Even if it wasn’t true, it kept Boone’s mind at ease. He began walking forward, the rats in front scurrying quickly away. This strangely reminded him of an entry in the bible, where someone walked through the ocean, and as he walked, the ocean parted for him. This was almost what the rats were doing, in a strange way. The cavern was dimly lit, and it made Boone feel queasy to see all those rats moving about like some giant, hairy beast. He looked over his shoulder, his fingers uneasily drumming around his USP match as the mob of rats behind him followed. He began to feel very uneasy. In the distance, he could see a chain link fence, and beyond it, the bar where he had found 'Lucky’. He didn’t know about these rats, but maybe they just wanted out. He stopped at the chain link fence, looking to his left, he saw a handle, and saw a rail on the floor, and the fence had wheels on the bottom of it. He made his way left, being mindful not to step on anything, fearful for what would happen if he stepped on anything. He slide his USP match into his jacket, and wrapped his fingers around the handle. He began to back pedaled as he held the fence handle, the chain link shook lightly as it was guided along the fence. As Boone pulled, he noticed the rats were flooding out of through the opening of the fence. He left the chain link gate half open, watching as the last of the rats made they’re way out. He stepped outside, looking left to right as he saw their tales disappear around corners. He sure as hell hoped in doing this, he wasn’t given the Plague. He looked towards the wooden door that led to the bar, he took a step back, and took a running start, hopping over to the other side. He landed on the edge of the other side, he felt his right foot hit the edge, not the actual ground, he begin to tip back, his arms flailing. He instinctively threw his left arm out, grabbing hold of a loose hanging cable. He hung there for a moment, realizing he had had way too many brushes with death in the last few.. days? Weeks? Months? Boone just shook his head, he had lost all sense of time, he pulled himself forward, and stood in front of the door, his fingers drumming softly against him.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPVO4ICbWIA
The door to the Rat-ways bar was kicked open with a violent “Snap!”, The rickety old door clattering to the floor. Boone stepped inside, holding his MP7 in his hand. He scanned the inside of the bar, tables were turned over, windows were broken, and the dying embers of a fire came from ‘Lucky’s office. Boone trudged forward over the broken glass and wood, his shoes making distinctive sounds of glass breaking under his feet. He stopped at the office door, giving it a light shove, and pointed his MP7 into the room, the light from the windows in the office giving him almost a passive-aggressive look. The room was a fiery orange as Boone stepped in, the dying embers of wood filled his nose. The desk was heavily burnt and the chair that stood in front was ash, a silhouetted man slowly got up behind the desk. “Pl-please...” He pleaded, his voice having an English accent. “D-don’t hurt me!” Boone lowered his MP7 slightly, cocking his head to the side. “And you are?” The man paused a moment, before speaking. “..Clay.” Boone nodded slightly. “You got a weapon, Clay?” Clay shook his head lightly. “Th-they all took the weapons when they went out t-to fight..” He stammered nervously. Boone looked down at his MP7 hesitantly, tilting it slightly in his hands, before turning back to Clay. “You ever shoot a weapon, Clay?” Clay tilted his from side to side, his hands now lightly drumming against the edge of the burnt desk. “I-I’ve practiced on the.. u-uh.. the paint ball ranges before, yeah.” Boone unclipped the sling from his MP7, tossing the MP7 onto the desk where Clay was standing. “Its time for the real thing, Clay.” Clay nodded enthusiastically as he picked up the MP7, Boone turned around slightly, sliding his USP match from his jacket as he inspected. Behind him, Clay materialized from the shadows, his face now seen from the light from outside, it was revealed that Clay was actually 'Lucky’. 'Lucky’ aimed the MP7 by the hip, aiming it straight at Boone, there was no way he could miss. He spoke, this time in the accent he usually spoke in, his Italian accent. He lowered his head lightly as an evil grin betook his face. “Goodbye.. Mister Boone.” Boone didn’t even bother turning around as 'Lucky’ pulled the trigger, only to hear the soft sound, “Click!”
Boone turned around to face 'Lucky’, his USP match in his hand, he had a bit of a hunch because he wasn’t holding his wound. He spread his arms out only slightly. “What you think I’m fuckin’ stupid, Hans?” 'Lucky’ tilted his head to the side in confusion. “How’d you know my name, you overwatch-helmet-wearing motherfucker?” Boone chuckled slightly, it certainly was different being cursed at by a fat, little Italian. “Lucky guess, ever seen Die Hard?” ‘Lucky’ cocked an eyebrow. Boone just shook his head in disappoint. “Never mind.” Boone raised his USP match, aiming it directly for ‘Lucky’s heart, ‘Lucky’ stammered into the wall, he could see him shaking lightly in the knees. “This is for the wastefulness of all those human lives,” Boone began, he aimed down, firing a round into his kneecap. ‘Lucky’ screamed in agony, clutching his knee in pain as he leaned against the wall, tears lightly streaming down his face. “This is for using me in your little game.” He took two steps closer, ‘Lucky’ looked up slightly, and Boone proceeded to fire a round into his shoulder. 'Lucky’s back hit the wall, his head flung back as his blood stained teeth grinded together in pain. He looked like he was about to say something, but only ended up coughing blood onto his pants. “And this-” Boone took another step forward, ‘Lucky’ looked up one last time, his eyes pleading for him to stop as Boone jammed his USP match against his forehead. “-is from everyone back in Ineu.” He pulled the trigger, the round tore through ‘Lucky’s head, the wall behind him was painted the color of blood and brain matter. ‘Lucky’ kept at a kneel for a moment, before tumbling face first on the ground at Boone’s feet. Boone wiped his pants a little bit, speaking in a mock-French accent. “You got blood on my suit...” He chuckled lightly, looking at his USP match. “You’re just my little Light Shining in the Darkness, aren’t you?” He slide his USP match back into his jacket, he pushed through the office door, leaving his empty MP7 behind him as he trudged forward, over the broken glass, and out the door. He made a left, and began making his way back the way he came, back towards Ineu.
-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8eWxNXkEjo
Chapter 7: Resistance
Day 52: Intercept Course
Present-day November, 2017
Location: City 7, deep within the sewer system, just on the outskirts of the city leading to the canals
The sewer system Boone was in was near pitch black, save for the occasional wall lamp on each pillar. The pillars held up the arched ceiling so it wouldn’t cave in, as it was rather wide. Boone began to wonder what was the point in these tunnels when waste didn’t constantly flow through it, sure there was dirt mixed with waste underneath his feet, but it wasn’t water waste. He felt.. alone in these tunnels, it was a darkness that he didn’t like to tread through for the simple reason that anything could hide in it. Anything. His bandage was just about soaked through by now, he’d have to get it treated before the bandage lost its bondage. As he continued to traverse, there was a three-way intersection. One way continued straight forward in the direction he was going, and to Ineu, and there were two other paths that pierced through the archway walls and branched out elsewhere. Boone could faintly see the two floating wall lamps ahead where two more pillars were, there were also two pillars by each path on either side. He shrugged, and continued down the tunnel. After he had reached the second pair of pillars, the ones away from the two paths, he heard vocoded voices beckoning behind him. He peered over his shoulder, to see four Overwatch elites behind him, rifles raised. Boone turned fully around to face them, a USP match wasn't going to do much against an OSIPR, nevertheless five. What he began to notice was that each of the four Elites had a different secondary color that made them unique, one had an orange strip down his helmet, one had yellow highlights, one had green highlights, and one had a bloody handprint on the face of his helmet. He surely wasn’t dealing with a bunch of push-overs most Elites are. “<:: Anti-citizen, drop your weapon!” The one with the orange strip yelled. Boone looked over his shoulder, the two pillars behind him were within spitting distance. He could take cover behind them and come up with a plan, hopefully. Boone looked back at the team of Elites.
“You didn’t say please.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9dFf9g_miM
Boone back-pedaled towards the nearest pillar, he raised his USP match, and fired pot-shots at the squad of Elites. One of the shots nailed the elite in his kevlar, not even making him flinch as all four of them released a hail-fire of pulse rounds. Boone slipped behind the pillar to the Elites right side, or in this case Boone’s left. He leaned up against the pillar, sliding out his magazine, he had about half a mag plus one more. He leaned his head back against the wall as he tried to think, what did he have that he could use against them? A USP match.. and that was about it, unless he decided he would throw everything he had in his backpack at them. Throw. The grenade. Boone reached into his jacket, pulling out the dusty old green tube that the sapper had given him on the Citadel. He had given him two grenades! Boone’s shoulders drooped slightly in relief, he still had a chance. The firing ceased, they were either reloading or were advancing. Nevertheless, Boone leaned out of his cover, now sitting against the pillar, his left hand clutched his USP match tightly as he fired, his right hand holding the grenade. His pistol shots pinged and
ricocheted off the walls, Boone got some well placed shots on their legs, but it only slowed them down slightly as they stood behind the pillars further down the tunnels, where the three-way intersection was. Boone’s stopped firing and clicked each time he pulled the trigger, out of ammo! He leaned back into cover, letting the mag drop to the floor as he slide in a fresh one. He’d have to use this grenade or he was screwed. He contemplated what to do with it, he could throw it at them, duh, and hope to cripple or kill them and run, but they could just give chase. What else was there!? Boone thought for a moment, and then thought of the pillars, surely there old and withered, maybe a blast from a grenade would be all they would need to crumble. Boone stuck his forefinger into the pin, and pulled it off. One. The Elites seemed to be reloading, their OSIPR’s making soft beeping sounds as new pulse rounds were loaded. Two. “<:: Sir, I think he’s out of ammo!” One of the units called out. Little did he know Boone still had a trick up his sleeve. Three. He leaned out of cover once more, and chucked the grenade down the tunnel towards the pillar on his right. The orange-stripped one looked down seemingly in horror. “<:: Bouncer, bouncer, get clear!” He yelled, the squad of elites high-tailed it as the grenade struck lightly against the pillar, leaning up against it. After just a moment, the grenade exploded violently, the pillar exploding into chunks of concrete as the framework was revealed. The weight above it was too much for the framework to withstand. It began to collapse, shaking loose pieces of concrete down from the ceiling. Boone stood up from his cover, and began sprinting full on down the tunnel. The pillar completely collapsed on itself, the second pillar began collapsing as well without support from the second one. As Boone ran, pulse slugs zoomed passed him as the Elites started firing at him. Boone kept his head down, hoping that Overwatch didn’t believe in luck. Finally, the second pillar collapsed, caving in the ceiling above the two destroyed pillars, and the ones where Boone was taking cover. Boone tumbled to the ground as the ceiling collapsed, falling face first onto the ground. For a moment, the tunnel was pitch-black, before the lights ahead of him flickered on. Boone looked over his shoulder, the tunnel behind him was blocked, and there weren’t any half-buried Overwatch amongst the debris. Boone stood up slowly, holding his ribs and gunshot wound painfully, he began to limp down the tunnel, now wanting to get back to Ineu slightly faster then he did a few minutes ago...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrm57fazUIg
Despite what Boone had thought before, Boone had affected City 7 more then he realizes. With The Watchers crippled, they were weak and scattered. With no command structure, and all of their officers dead, they would soon be put down... and eventually forgotten. It is unknown when the Watchers were extinguished, or if they succeed in the 'liberation’ of City 7. Boone would walk the path to Ineu alone, never looking back, never thinking of coming back.
Only when the scorched winds from City 7 blew over the valley did Boone ever think back, ever think back, of what he could of done differently.
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Half-Life 2 Roleplay => Archive => HL2RP Development[ARCHIVE] => IC Chat => Topic started by: Darkshifter98 on November 18, 2011, 12:10:29 AM