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WTH by {unknown}=poopytoast
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WTH [1]
Date: 9 June 2004, 9:43 PM
The air wasn't normal. James could already tell that he was in for trouble. The pair of doors released, creating a piercing hiss sound, James couldn't help covering his ears along with the rest of his team. Everything was silent after that, and James didn't like it. He saw the Squad Leader motioning with his arms, and could see his mouth open and shut, but couldn't make out the words. He saw everyone raise their weapons, and did the same. Right then, a squadron of Elites crashed through the opening, their plasma rifles firing a barrage of scorching blue plasma. His team started to fire, but it seemed to do no good, as his teammates' lives seemed as if they were being stolen away. He saw that he wasn't firing, and his mouth dropped. The Standard Issue MA5B Assault Rifle's rounds seemed as if they were only pellets, as they pinged off the Elite's armor, not even scratching the surface. James reached for his round amplifier, and switched to shredder rounds. He yanked on the trigger, and the silent sound of fire erupted from the muzzle.
The Elites' mouth opened in silent laughter. But it was stolen away as the shredder rounds tore through the Covenant armor, and through the insides of the Elites. His number of teammates was dwindling. He needed to think fast, he needed to find a way to communicate with his team. The Squad Leader wasn't helping, so he did what he had to do. James turned towards the Leader, and aimed his rifle at the Leader's left leg, the inside of it to be exact. He gave the Leader one last look of guilt, and the Leader gave him a look of despair as he suddenly realized what was about to happen. He saw the Leader try to flee, and tugged on the trigger. 4 rounds tore through the Squad Leader's leg, one unlucky bullet hitting and severing his femoral artery. Blood gushed and squirted from the new wound, as the Leader tore away at his leg. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he dropped to the ground. His death seemed to trigger something, as the sound came back. James could hear his head making a sickening crunch as it connected with the bottom edge of a pillar.
A nearby marine was being plastered with Plasma fire. James aimed his weapon at the busy Elite's head. He held the trigger, and armor-piercing bullets burst out, splashing across the Elite's now shimmering figure as it's shields energy depleted quickly. Pretty soon, the rounds no longer pinged off of the Elite harmlessly, but they tore through its leathery purple skin, entering through the temple, and exploding out of the back of the head, carrying with it brains, and blood. Everyone followed James' lead, and switched to shredder rounds. They mowed through the other 2 Elites, but still came out of the fight with serious casualties, as only 3 of the 7 soldiers still standing could handle a firearm. James felt as if that was only the beginning, as if the team of Elites they had just faced might be the weakest thing they do face at the scene. "Alright, since there are only three good people that we can use, we are going to have to leave some behind. Not 'leave behind to die' or anything, just leave behind until we complete our objectives. I won't let anyone else die."
Private John Heversay spoke up, "Hey, what was with you shooting Tony, man! Are you retarded, he was the best we had, and you had to kill him! I ain't following orders from some white trash, hillbilly dipshit! Fuck you, man!" John took a deep breath, and exhaled. James swung at him with his right fist, connecting with the left side of John's jaw. It made a crack as it broke into many pieces. John fell with his back to the wall, holding his jaw and crying.
"This is no time for fighting. And don't you ever call me white trash again, you hear me? I will kill you the next time you bring it up, okay John?" James kicked John in the side, and John let out a squeal. He slowly got back up, but walked very slowly, and kept whining about his jaw. "Alright, now as I was saying!" James gave a harsh look at John. "We can't split up due to the fact that our numbers suck. If we do, we die. All right! So, let's at least try to get through this without anyone else dying, please." John gave James the finger, being stupid. James noticed it out of the corner of his eye, and retaliated.
He let out a cry, and stomped over to John, using his rifle as a weapon. He swung at John's knee, hitting it, and knocking it out of place. John doubled over, now clutching his broken leg. James lifted his rifle up over his head, and came down on John's face, repeating many times. The rifle was covered in blood, and John was barely alive. He let out little cries, and pleas to stop, but James was driven. He hadn't liked John from the start, 2 years ago when he joined. James remembered the ridicule he had gotten from John and his stuck up friends. James remembered everything, and that was a mistake John had made when he had started. James lifted the butt of the gun again, and John screamed apologies and pleas again, but James didn't care. Surprisingly, he dropped the gun in the air, and it clanged onto the ground.
James breathed loudly, as he knew he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had already killed one person, he knew he already was going to hell, why make it so he had a reserved seat next to Gacy and Dahmer, even though he didn't compare to either. James fell to the ground, and sat up, the sweat that was covering him made him look sick. John coughed up a large amount of phlegm, blood, and chipped pieces of teeth. James felt sorry for him, and got up to help John back up.
"Hey," John said quietly, because he had just gotten the shit beat out of him. "Hey, you stay away. You stay away from me." James didn't care, he kept walking toward John, determined to help him up. John reached for his M6D Human Pistol, grabbed it, and held it up while aiming at James' midsection. "I said stay back, James. Don't make me do this, please. I will. I will." A shot rang out, echoing loudly. James grabbed his stomach, and dropped to his knees. But he hadn't been shot.
"Alright, enough bullshit! Let's get out of here!" Private Colby Simon held a smoking pistol, aimed at the air where a cloaked Elite had been just a few moments ago. James let go of his stomach, and finally figured out that he hadn't been harmed. He quickly helped John up, and helped him walk. They all ran to the entered way, trying to leave as soon as possible. Colby got there first, then Private Max Klix, Private Cindy King followed shortly. James and John though, they took awhile. When they finally arrived, everyone was screaming curses and obscenities at each other. "Alright, you son of a bitch! What did you do?" Colby screamed at James, asking him what he did.
"Alright, what happened? Why is everyone arguing?"
"The door man, it's locked. We're locked in here man!" Max got angry.
John's blue eyes got watery. "What do you mean," he screamed at Max. "What do you mean it's locked? It can't be! No! I can't be locked in here." John spit on the ground, but not just snot. He also spit blood. "Look at this, do you see this." He tried to lunge at Max, but missed, falling onto the ground due to his injuries.
"He's right. He can't stay in here; he's lost too much blood, already. He's critical, and we don't have enough experience or equipment to treat him! He's going to die in here!" Cindy always liked John, she always thought of him in a machismo kind of way. She thought he was best at everything, and she liked winners. She ran over to him, and slowly helped him up. "Are you alright, John? Please be all right. Please don't leave me." She liked winners, but she just witnessed him getting beaten to death. Why did she standby while John's soon-to-be killer was fine and dandy? Peachy keen. She grabbed her M6D Human Pistol, and aimed it at James. "All right, you dick. You just stay right there. Don't you move, you murderer, don't you move."
"What the hell are you doing, Cindy? You're thinking irrationally. Don't shoot please." Cindy kept the gun on James, a smile spread across her face. She fingered the infrared beam on, and it was aimed right between James' eyes. "By the way, what do you mean murderer?"
"Don't play pretty with me, you walking dick. You killed Tony, and you almost killed John. Give him twenty minutes, and you have. Who knows who you'll kill next."
"Twenty minutes! You're kidding, right? Right?"
"Wait a minute here, I had to kill Tony. You all know that. He wasn't helping he was panicking. I had to. You guys know that."
Everyone just stood there, staring at James, shaking their heads in disgust. Cindy held the gun still, making sure that if James made any sudden movements, he would be missing a head.
"Attention all dipshits, attention all dipshits! Please calm down, we don't want to ruin the fun already," a P.A. box barked. "Good, now listen. All of you are stuck in here, just for me. So, anyways, you guys have to pull together to get out. I know, it is going to be so fun! Just be careful, there are going to be many twists and surprises. Oh, by the way James, I thought you said you wouldn't let anyone else die. Don't forget you're wounded. Tsk...Tsk...Tsk!" All of a sudden, screams burst out from the other room. The wounded soldiers voices. Everyone ran through the halls, trying to get to the room as fast as possible. When they got there, no one else was in the room.
"Poor soldiers. Oh well, they were wounded anyways, right? Haha! The fun is just beginning. So buckle up, and enjoy the ride. It should be easy, since you guys are soldiers, right?"
TO BE CONTINUED...
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