|
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Seven is the Lonliest Number by Wasted Potential
|
7 is the Lonliest Number [1]
Date: 27 May 2004, 7:44 PM
"Well, what do you want me to do about it? There is really nothing I can do about it, so basically you are screwed." The words echoed and repeated in Private Jack Alepino. He had just heard those words only a week ago, while he was stationed at the Delta Mental Institution, due to the fact that he had been framed. Framed. The word made him cringe, just that one word could have set him off. Whoever had done this to him would pay. They would pay dearly. He was charged with insanity, because he had been framed for the murders of 7 people. 4 of them were little children. He had allegedly used a meat cleaver to due this, but he knew if he had done this he wouldn't have used something so clunky and large. That last statement made him realize why he was thinking about that. He blocked it out of his mind, and turned his attention back to his newspaper. A large front-page photo caught his attention. In the picture, there stood a large podium the UNSC symbol on the front, with the UNSC police chief standing a few feet to the left of the podium, and the UNSC Army Colonel standing to the right. They both stared up at a large figure, yes. He knew that large figure. The figure that wore green, the figure that was deemed invincible and untouchable, due to the numerous accusations flooding him. He had also been tried for many things. Blood money, bribery, taking money under the table and many more. Jack thought most were true, but he had figured out something worse than any of them. He had stumbled upon to a large conspiracy, with the Master Chief smack dab in the middle of it. Whether he wanted to be in it, or not Jack knew he was the connection. Jack remembered bringing him in, on charges of bribery. He remembered those cold eyes, yet he could feel empathy, and understanding in them. He remembered the Master Chief impersonating a brick wall, not budging, except for that one moment, when he slipped on his words. Jack knew something was wrong, but he hadn't found the whole picture. For all he knew, he could have just chipped the block so far. But he knew what he had found was large, it must have been important. And yet, he somehow felt that this conspiracy was the cause for his framing. He knew he had to find out who. Who. Who had done this to him, and why they would. Jack brought himself back into reality. At least, he thought, they let you back into the Army and dropped all charges, right? "WRONG!" Jack found himself screaming out, and slowly breathed in and out, releasing the tension little by little. He then realized he was sweating, and was breathing very hard still. He decided to lie down, and relax. He got up, stretching out his legs in the process. As he started to walk to his room, he realized he was still focusing all his attention to that picture. He thought Master Chief was supposed to be a hero. He wasn't any hero, he was a monster, at least in Jack's book.
Beep, beep, beep, beep! Jack's alarm had been going off for quite awhile. He finally opened his eyes, and slammed his closed fist onto the large button on top of his clock, stopping the noise. "God damn, I hate my life sometimes. I have too much of a mediocre life." Jack grabbed his uniform from his thinking chair, the chair he used to write in, and shuffled into the bathroom. He took a shower, dressed and ate. As he took one last look in the mirror, he suddenly noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a picture of the infamous Master Chief. "Of all people." He grabbed the picture and tore it into pieces, smiling. When he had finished, he held the many pieces in his hand, and his eyes squinted. He realized that it wasn't a picture of Master Chief. He, in a nervous wreck, threw all the pieces together trying to recreate the former picture. It was of his mother. "How could I have thought that... but, I," his words floated off, and he didn't finish. Okay, you are getting way too wrapped up in this. It is consuming your thoughts man, just relax. He never used to talk to himself. He must have picked it up from the asylum. "Dear God, I'm changing, and I don't like it, man. I don't like it at all." He walked out the door, grabbing his keys on the way.
"All right, now how can we make things here at UNSC better? Any suggestions?" The man up front, the 'teacher' was Sergeant Collins, a 'pretty mean piece of shit' in Jack's word. He held a large, metallic pointer. But he was known for using it for other purposes. The students were surprised he was still allowed to even make contact with other people because of his record. He especially didn't like late students, Jack's lucky day. Jack scrambled to class in the middle of it. Collins looked at him coldly, and twitched his head towards Jack's desk. Jack nodded and ran to it, and quickly sat down. "Hey man, you know that Collins' isn't going to let this go. He is going to do something about it, come on you read his record," said Private James Simon, one of Jack's only friends. He talked a lot, but was usually right about things. And just as usual, and right on time, Sergeant Collins started his short march over to Jack and James' desk, a big smile pasted on his face. "Alright you two, what are you little girls gabbing about? HUH!" Sergeant Collins screamed to the class. "Now I want you all to make a note of this," he said as he turned to look at his students, "and I also want all of you to never, and I mean never be late again. Or else you will jog laps around the Deathball fields, from sunrise to sundown." He stared down at James, who seemed to be snickering. "Did I say something funny, Mr. Simon. Well, come on. Tell me what I said that seems to amuse you." His expression started to change as James stayed silent. He let out a cry, and swung his pointer at James' head, connecting. James nearly flipped backward off his chair, and doubled onto the floor. Sergeant Collins, not missing a beat, jumped on top of him, coming out with a Full Nelson hold on James. "Anyone want to save him? Huh! Well, do any of you want to save him?" Collins looked up at Jack, "Well crazy boy, how about you. Don't you want to save your little fudge packer? Huh! Do you. Tell me boy, so I can kill him already." At that moment, Jack snapped. He was on top of Collins in a matter of seconds, hitting him with lefts and rights. A battered and bloody Collins slithered out of the fight, and went for his pistol. He grabbed it, cocked it, and held it up, aiming at Jack's head. "Take one more step, fucker! Go ahead, I dare you. Come on you sorry piece of waste. Go on, so you can rot in that asylum forever this time!" Jack suddenly stopped. What had Collins just said? Did he just give me a clue? Jack stared into Collins eyes, so cold. He grabbed a slightly purple James, helped him up, and walked out of the room.
Jack sat at his desk, his cold, clammy hands on his forehead. He was in thought, going over the thing Sergeant Collins had said in his head, and all those names he had called him. His concentration was suddenly broken by his little intercom. "Private Alepino, you have someone here for you. A Master Chief. He is waiting in the lobby, says it is important, almost confidential." Jack's face turned pale, and he stood up, grabbing his pistol, and making sure it was loaded. He cocked it and walked into the lobby. Sure enough, Master Chief stood there, balancing a combat knife on his index finger. Without letting the knife drop, he turned his attention toward Jack, "Well hello Jack, nice to meet you!"
TO BE CONTINUED...
7 is the Lonliest Number [2]
Date: 27 May 2004, 9:56 PM
"Well, hello Jack. Nice to meet you!" Jack's heart nearly stopped. He saw Master Chief putting the knife away. He was going to be here awhile. Jack slowly walked over to Master Chief, and spoke to him. "Maybe we should talk somewhere else," Jack said softly, and Master Chief nodded. "Alright, well let's go to the interrogation room. It should be pretty quiet there." Again, Master Chief nodded. "Alright, let's go." They both walked off, down the hall. The door slams. Master Chief sits down. Jack sits down. They both start to twitch, mostly Jack due to his nervousness. Suddenly, Jack starts talking, breaking the silence. "Alright, what do you want with me? I know you did something, so just please, tell me why you are here." Master Chief sat silently, unknowingly with a smile on his face. Jack stands up, and rolls up his sleeves. He is sweating now, and his face is getting red. "Just tell me why you are here! Listen buddy, I have something on you right now, something you seem to be stuck in, so if I was you, I'd start talking! Alright!" Master Chief's smile slowly fades away, as he quickly stands up and pushes Jack 3 feet to the other side of the room. "Listen Jack," Master Chief says sarcastically. "Right now I wouldn't be talking. If you threaten me, or call me another FUCKING name, that I will beat you to death!" Master Chief suddenly heard his own words, and slowly sat down. "Sorry, Jack. I tend to have outbursts. Please don't arrest me," Master Chief said sarcastically again, laughing between words. He grabbed a book, and walked over to Jack, who was huddled in a corner, acting like a cornered animal, which is what he was. "Jack," the intercom spout, "Jack, are you there. Well anyways, you have a call on line 3... it is Sergeant Collins. He seems angry." Jack suddenly stood up, wiping himself off, with a smile on his face. "Send him in, Cindy. Thank you," said Jack while pushing down the talk button. "Alright, you shit eater. Let us see how Collins reacts to your little attitude, shall we?" Master Chief's silent laughter suddenly stopped. His face turned serious, and he went back into the Master Chief that had entered Jack's office about 5 minutes ago, calm and quiet. Jack sat there, a wide smile on his face. The door suddenly opened, revealing Collins. "Private Alepino, that you?" Collins squinted his eyes, to try and find Jack under all the blood. "Listen, I don't know what your secretary's problem is, but I'm not angry. I came here to apol..." Collins neck suddenly spouted blood. As he reached for the wound, a hole in his head suddenly burst into view. Jack jumped back, as Collins fell to the floor dead. He turned to Master Chief, who was holding a smoking Silenced M6D Human Pistol. Master Chief brought the barrel of the gun up to his nose, and smelled the smoke, inhaling and exhaling loudly. "All right. You have done enough talking, Jack! Come on don't flare out on me. You little women, you are getting sick over blood? You little pussy. Come on, I need your help to get him propped up. You deaf? I said help!" Jack suddenly felt sick, as Master Chief propped the body up easily. Why did he need help? Jack saw Master Chief reload his weapon. He took out the black clip, and pushed a red one into the butt of the gun, pressing the safety button to off. He aimed at Jack's right shoulder, and fired not missing by a millimeter. Jack suddenly felt drowsy, and passed out. The last thing he remembered was seeing Master Chief lift him up off the floor, and carry him to a desolate area. Jack had been passed out for nearly 9 hours. A lot had passed!
Jack woke up to the sound of screaming. He shook his head, and his vision cleared. His head quickly turned to try and find the sound. "Oh, you want to see this. Well, I guess if you really want to," an unknown figure said. It wasn't until that moment that he knew he was tied to a chair. The chair wheeled around, and Jack could see James was tied to a post, and being beaten. Master Chief was the beater, and the forceful blows he threw at James were hard to watch. Blood covered the corners of James' lips, and trailed down under his nose. James looked at Jack in a pleading manner, as if Jack was somehow behind the horrific beating he was receiving. Jack saw a knife appear in Master Chief's hand. He held the knife up, slowly pushing it against the skin on James bare legs. Master Chief, in a jagged motion, suddenly dug the knife into James' ankle and wrenched it up all the way to James' kneecap, pulled the knife out, and tearing the kneecap away from the bone. Jack saw James' expression suddenly change, as he screamed out in horror. Master Chief then cut down James, after a little bit of mocking and laughing at James. He threw James over his shoulder and walked out of the room, but kept the door open. The next few minutes were horrific, as all Jack heard were the terrible screams of James as he was being cut limb from limb. When Master Chief fully removed the limb, he would toss it out into Jack's room, in a pile. When everything seemed stacked out, Jack thought something was missing. Master Chief suddenly walked out, carrying James' head out buy the hair; a lifeless stare remained on his face. Master Chief set the head on Jack's lap, "I thought you might of needed some company. Well, I think you two will be best friends." Master Chief's head tilted up, and laughter burst out of his mouth. As soon as Master Chief's mood seemed to change to happiness, it quickly turned into anger. He swept the head off of Jack's lap, and screamed in his face. "Alright, what do you know? I know you know something, so don't try to bullshit me!" Master Chief placed his bloody hand on Jack's face, and smeared it all over, even in Jack's hair. "I hope your friend didn't have AIDS. Probably did, that little gay!" Master Chief pulled his hand away, and made a fist. He threw a catastrophic right, and connected, nearly shattering Jack's jaw into 7 pieces. Master Chief turned around, and strutted out of the room.
Jack let out a scream as his shoulder dislocated, and he somehow managed to slip out of his restraints. He fell to the cold, hard concrete, only making the shoulder worse. He wiggled around for a few seconds to wipe off the pain, and to pop his shoulder back into place. He finally stood, and had a devilish look on his face. He lifted his prison chair, and slammed it to the ground, grabbing a piece of the jagged wood that resulted from the impact. He tried to remember the route that Master Chief took out of the room. He decided to try the 'dissecting room', as Jack had called it due to the horrible images, screams, and objects that came from it. He slowly walked up to the door, and kicked it off. He quickly ran to one side of the room, checking out the rest it in the process. Empty. He ran back to the original room, and slammed through the next door, which led to a dark hallway. Jack crept through it, and found the restrooms. He smiled. He could catch Master Chief off guard. He slowly opened the door, just enough to peak through. Master Chief was in there!
TO BE CONTINUED...
|