Here's my fan fic so far. Plus another otherwise lame image to go along with it:
All’s War that ends War
Prologue
The sounds of the copter blades ripping through the thick, smoke-engulfed air were completely mute to Fry as he sprinted insanely over the war-battered remains of his fellow comrades. He leaped over hundreds of corpses, white hot tracers tugging at the seems of his clothes as if they were following him as he went. The mass of gruesome death and flaming shrapnel, entwined with the many obscenities that incorporated themselves into combat formed together in this area of the field. The solid hate and pain mixing around him as he ran frantically through the terrorized remains of the city seemed to form an actual substance, as if giving chaos its own form of matter.
The muttled padding-like shudder of closely impacting enemy fire grew louder to Fry’s bleeding ears. He quickened his pace, leaping over heaps of metal slag and broken weapons. The ear-piercing clang of ricocheting ammunition against the nearby vehicular remains put-forth a monster-like image in Fry’s mind, as if he was being chased by some malnourished demon, hungry for the last soul and thirsty for death. What was he to do? He had long since lost his only remaining weapon, besides his pistol, which hung loosely against Fry’s left leg. Fighting wasn’t of any importance to him at the moment though.
He tried as hard as humanly possible, listening over his own panting and the painful punch of his own heart-beat, to hear any signs of his squad. The extraction point was ready and waiting for him on the other end of the battle field, but he couldn’t leave without his squad. He needed time to think when he had last seen them as a group. Fry came to a sudden halt, glancing frantically for something to hide behind. Seconds later, his eyes fell upon the remains of what appeared to be some sort of Rhoussen Hover Tank. He performed a quick side-ways leap behind the flaming Tank hull, pressing his back against the flat surface of the Tank-aft itself. There he stood, blood trickling down the sides of Fry’s neck. He quickly closed his eyes, shifting through all of his thoughts as fast he could. Images of war clouded his mind; decapitated body parts, bloody weapons, dying marines, exploding shells, shrapnel, bullets. Pain and suffering at its best. He skimmed through his earliest thoughts after being released from the dropship.
All he remembered was being dropped from the ship alongside his squad, fully armored and supplied, then charging out strait down into the middle of the field. After that he split up with half his squad to the right. And after that everything got fuzzy. “Think…think, where are they? Where are my squad? Where in God’s name…”. He was interrupted by the screeching rotary mechanisms of a passing R20 Cobalt Class Mech. The deep blast and rove of the gears interlocking into each other sent chills through Fry’s spine. He clutched his fists in pain. The sounds of a Cobalt’s inner thought mechanisms computing, the very hiss of its 6 ton mega drive processing combat data sent long-sense-felt combat rage through every vein in Fry’s body. Images of his close friends falling in battle to these ruthless machines, scenes of gore and slaughter so maniacal in their manor, they could push any soldier to maximum fury. His mind was beginning to slip away, he couldn’t take this war anymore. Now at the peek of his sanity, Fry maliciously fought with the hoster wrapped around his left leg, trying to find his pistol through his already death stricken mind. His hand finally met with his pistols cold titanium grip, and that’s when he heard them.
Anyway, hope you like it so far. Here's a basic pic of what one of those R20 Cobalt Class Mechs would look like, plus an Amy height reference to boot. Pretty big, huh?
Now imagine one of these things in a battle stance, looking for you with its weapons ready and smoking, chipped and burned, hot with blood. And there you stand with 2 bullets in a measily pistol that your not even sure works or not, heh.What do you think? Anything missing so far?
Author
