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An old story

YoYoBatty

Grizzled Veteran
Dec 17, 2009
3,452
2,501
Canada
Story by uwasawaya from the old KillingFloor Forums. Put this all into one post, took about 1 hour to do, no edits, original copy paste from seperate posts so there might be errors.

Enjoy

There was a sign above the small shop that had a cover made of aluminum, so that any rain or such wouldn't mold the old wood beneath. Not that it helped. He hated that sign. Hated the aluminum. He'd be asleep, a rarity to him, and a single drop of rain would make it's way through the gutters above and fall upon that sign every time. It always woke him up. Always made him think*they*were out there, making that damned noise. Every time he jolted awake he knew he was dead; knew there would be no time to get himself together enough to fight off the endless ****ing waves.*
He stirred beneath the musty wool coat he used for a blanket and sighed, staring out into the darkness through what parts of the front windows weren't blocked by the makeshift barricade. He could see the streetlight down the road a bit, the one that was still working. He didn't know how, but he was glad. It gave him something to look at.*
It was raining again, as it did often in England he discovered. He hated the rain, not as much as the sign, but he hated it. Made it hard to see*them*sneaking up on you, until all you could see were those eyes, and all you could hear was their breathing as they surrounded you.*
He lay his head back against the pile of garbage and miscellaneous junk that filled the old antique store and sighed. He tried not to think about how hungry he was.*

- - -

Sound. His eyes shot open, looking back and forth, and then sank. The god-damned rain again. His grip on his handgun lightened.*
He heard it again, helicopter blades, very distant. Warily, he climbed from his pile of trash, handgun at his side, and made his way to a peephole in front of the window.*
At first he couldn't see it, but then he saw the taillights shining through the darkness. It was over the park, waiting. Its searchlight was turned off.*
The choice was agonizing. If he went out, the chopper might not spot him, but the infected (that's what the news called them,*infected) most certainly would if they were anywhere near, which they would be with that hovering beacon. If he stayed, he would be safe, at least for awhile. He had water, but no more food. He'd have to strike out eventually. It was die now or die soon. He carefully pulled back a black lacquered chest inlaid with mother of pearl and slowly opened the door.*
The rain was like electricity to him, startling in it's cold. He moved along the storefront, keeping low, watching for signs of movement amid the corpses that lay like cast aside dolls. His ragged jeans and sweatshirt were soaked almost at once, and he forced himself to be calm, trying not to shiver from the chilly rain.
He crossed the road and into the park, pressing up against a defunct street lamp which leaned over him like an inquisitive sentinel. Nothing moved, and the chopper still held its place.*
He shook himself angrily and refused to let himself feel hope. Hope was what killed his friends. Hope was what killed... her. Biting his lip to keep his concentration, he moved through the park, from tree to tree, gaining on the craft's location.
As he drew closer, he saw that it hovered gracefully above a clearing in the park. Standing behind the last tree that was between he and the chopper, he steeled himself for the dash to the craft, praying they could extract him before he attracted unwanted attention.*
The moment he tried to run, they grabbed him. Hands groping, searching, pulling him back. He was so close. He began to scream, to sob, to thrash, pulling the trigger of his pistol and firing the last three rounds in a panic into the soft earth. His hand went numb as something struck it, and he dropped the gun. He screamed a name into the rain. A voice cut through his panic like a knife. "Hey, HEY! Calm down, calm down dammit!"*
He realized the hands were holding him still, not gouging, not clawing. He twisted and looked over his shoulder at his captors and saw rifles, fatigues, boots. Soldiers. They had guns half pointed at him. He tried to speak, tried to find his voice.*
"I'm... not dead..." he said, his own voice faint over the rotors of the chopper. The soldiers spread out around him. There were six or so, armed with automatic rifles and handguns. One was female, young, with a medic patch on her uniform. She didn't look European, but he couldn't tell in the dark. She said something to another soldier that sounded ominously like 'make him dead'.
She must have noticed his look of worry. "I was talking to him," she explained, nodding to another soldier. He walked over, and they exchanged words. She turned back to the young man. "Those infected over in the square... did you kill them?" she asked. He nodded dumbly, worried if he was being accused of anything. "What's your name?" she finally asked.
He drew some shaky breaths, and shook his head. The female soldier watched him for a few moments. "Don't have one?" she asked amusedly.*
"How 'bout we call him Wolf? Killed that many infected, looks ragged as hell, runs around in the dark... seems fitting," a voice to his left said. He turned to see who spoke, and saw another young soldier who touted a number of different weapons. He had a nametag that was mostly covered by a weapon strap, but it started with an 'A'.*
The girl shrugged. "That's better than 'hey you', least until you get yourself together. Can you walk?" she asked.
He was about to respond when the infected arrived. Wolf heard a shout from one of the other soldiers, followed by the staccato report of automatic fire. The soldiers fanned out, bringing their weapons to their shoulders. As he looked to his side, Wolf finally saw them.*
They were filthy, coated in mud and blood and who knows what else. Utterly inhuman eyes stared out madly from utterly human bodies. They were naked... they were almost always naked, and for some reason that never failed to terrify Wolf. He saw fit men and fat men, women who once would have been beautiful and others who barely had skin. He saw children, some still clutching toys. Those he could understand, at least to a point. There were others though. A man with spikes that looked as though fashioned from bone on the ends of his arms loped along with them. Some crawled along the ground like nightmarish spiders, elbows and shoulders dislocating audibly as they moved. He saw a horror, a man with his body laid open with wire, like a dissection experiment, and inside his chest cavity, some /thing/ moved and searched for prey. It had claws like needles fashioned out of molded finger bones.*
The bullets cut down the first ones to come, the faster ones that moved on all fours, but they kept coming, not caring. The soldier with the 'A' nametag shouted something to the female soldier (she's Asian, why would I notice that now) and she waved the others back. One male soldier held a hand against his helmet and shouted something into his communicator, and the chopper moved away. Wolf tried to protest when the one soldier, the one who was told to make something dead or whatever, grabbed him by the arm. "We need to go! We're gonna meet the chopper on the roof of the shop behind us!" he screamed. Wolf got up and they ran.* The dash toward the little store (which Wolf noticed was a toyshop) was chaos. The infected were not, at least most of them, as fast as the soldiers. There were hundreds of them though, and they were relentless. It was madness to look at them, because all you could see were their eyes, staring, clear and bright. They hit the door to the toy store and pulled it open as two other soldiers spun and lay down covering fire. The female soldier pushed him in ahead of them, and the others folded in and shut the doors. Wolf watched as they pushed a heavy length of shelving in front of the door just as the wave of horrors hit the storefront.*
The still shell-shocked young man stepped back into the shop; glad the heavy windows on the front of the building seemed to be holding. He bumped into something as he backed up, and almost distractedly glanced behind him. In the dark it appeared to be the tied up body of a woman. It leaned forward towards him, and he saw that it had no eyes. It's jaw silently, slowly opened, stretching the fibers of skin which were the remnants of it's cheeks to the breaking point as Wolf stared in frozen terror. A sound began in the back of her throat, sounding like the beginning of a scream, and then her head exploded with a thundering crash.*
Wolf fell back, ears ringing, into one of the two soldiers who stood behind him.*
"Jesus Christ those things give me the willies..." one of them quipped. The other looked at Wolf, relaxing on the shotgun. "Next time, scream," he said.*
The female soldier looked at the shotgunner. "Dead?" she asked. The shotgun-wielding soldier kicked the body. "Dead and butchered," he responded. She nodded in response. "We need to get out of here, let's move," she ordered.
The group made their way to the stairs and moved up quickly. As they rounded a bend on the flight, they could hear the door below them shatter as something struck it. They kicked the door to the roof and saw the chopper, which sat lightly upon the roof, just ahead.*
They dashed to the craft, piling into it as quickly as they could, just as behind them the door and much of the frame of the roof exit shattered outward, revealing a creature more menacing then the rest, a behemoth clad in steel and cables that stood taller than any other. Its mouth was sealed in a permanent scream from a metal plate that looked drilled to the front of his jaw.
"GO!" Screamed the female medic. The chopper pilot gave it full throttle and the craft practically jumped from the roof, leaving the monster to stare at them in rage as his companions poured from the building around him. Below the helicopter, the creatures were a sea of blood and panic that stretched for blocks, and all eyes followed their escape.*
The soldier with the 'A' nametag methodically put his guns on safety and unloaded their clips with a practiced hand. After a moment, he leaned forward and took Wolf's right wrist, pulling his shirt back and revealing a small medical bracelet. "A refugee, I knew it... we've been looking for survivors of the crash for weeks now... we'd just about given up hope," he explained, then paused to read the bracelet. "Eastern US... bet you thought it'd be better here," he guessed.
Wolf looked again out the window at the dwindling sea of eyes, exhaustion overcoming him. "It is," he said, and slept.* Wolf tried to brush the smoke-drawn tears from his eyes and found that his arms were useless. He was in hell, it was the only place he could be. All around him were melting corpses, burning brightly as their hairless, faceless bodies blackened on the stakes they were mounted on. There were hundreds of them, and they mocked him in their serenity, despite the raging nightmare around them.*
Fire raged about him, mixed with the smell of burning fuel. The twisted corpse of some monstrous iron leviathan spewed liquid flame, it's broken, twisted arms twitching uselessly. He was trapped by a piece of it's body that had fallen over his legs. He screaming, but did not know for whom he cried.*
Hands moved into his vision, followed by a human form. It was the pretty Asian girl who saved him... named him... she was spattered with blood. Her dead eyes locked onto his, she reached down for him, groping, clawing at him. He didn't have the strength to fight, to scream. He wanted to protest, wanted to live. What would his dead friends say? What would SHE say? Who would carry on their memories?*
He looked up again at the face that loomed down ominously, mouth agape and hungry. His last thought was that he never even knew her name.*

- - -*

His eyes snapped open, breathing heavily. His heart pounded in his chest like a caged animal, and the wind passing through the cabin was chilly with the sweat that soaked his skin. He was still in the helicopter, not in hell, not surrounded by the dead, and not being eaten. For the first time, he wasn't alone when he woke up.
He glanced over at the girl who just moments ago was trying to bite off his face. She slept, head hanging forward.*
"Bad dream?" A voice said, startling him out of his thoughts. He glanced to the soldier sitting next to him, the one with the mostly covered 'A' patch. "Sorry if I startled you," he added.
Wolf nodded and sighed. "Yeah, I have them a lot... but then again, I guess everything around here is a bad dream now," he muttered. Turning to look at the soldier again, he asked, "So what's your name?"*
The soldier began to point to his name tag, and then saw that it was covered by his weapon straps. "Oh. Abyx. Nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand, which Wolf shook. "What kind of name is Abyx?" he asked. "What kind of name is Wolf?" he replied.*
The young survivor shrugged. "Good point. Where you from?"*
"Jersey," Abyx replied, "before... you know, the outbreak." He paused for a minute, and then looked at Wolf. "You're from the Midwest, right? Your tag said so... so where you there when it happened?" he asked. His companion nodded as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Only the beginning," Wolf said, "we were lucky... no one knew where the hell they came from... just overran everything... the government got some people out, but the National Guard, the police, the military... they couldn't get organized in time. I saw the first walls... they just barricaded the entire eastern half of the U.S., and left everyone to their fate. The rest of us were in the way, so they sent us over here. Least you guys are doing something," he finished.*
Abyx fidgeted a bit. "Wolf, I need to be honest with you... most of us aren't really soldiers..." he said. The young man glanced at him confused.*
"A lot of us are volunteers... they train us with guns, give us some pointers, assign us to a troop with some real army folk, and send us out on missions," Abyx explained. He took a breath, then continued. "Most of the time we're sent out to search for survivors, but some times they round of large groups of us and send us to try and hold some arbitrary landmark or cut down their numbers... it never works... the damned things just keep coming... and what's worse, the others, those modified things... those are new... they keep changing. It's not a good situation, Wolf..." he finished, and let out a shaky breath.
Wolf sat in silence for a bit, trying to digest all of the information he just learned. He was about to ask more when red light filled the cabin. The pilot leaned around and shouted, "ETA 2 minutes, wake up everyone, we're home." Wolf ducked out of the helicopter and hopped down to the tarmac. Abyx stood to the side, one hand lightly on his rifle. Stepping to the side to allow the rest of the chopper's occupants to disembark, he glanced around at his surroundings. They were in an old military base, that much was sure. A few grounds vehicles, trucks, jeeps and a single tank without treads sat silently around the compound. The buildings, of which there were about half a dozen, were boxy and made from heavy concrete. Empty guard towers punctuated the corners of the massive steel and concrete wall that surrounded the entire property. It was a fortress.

The soft orange of the rising sun brightened the horizon, unhurried in it's waking of the day. The wall's height made it impossible to see out from where he was, and to him, at that moment, the world seemed alive again, and the events of the past months nothing more than a bad dream.*

"Hey, Wolfie, you comin'?" shouted the female soldier. He rubbed his eyes a moment and turned. "'Wolfie'?" he asked. She was following the rest of the soldiers into the building. Not looking back, she shrugged.

He turned back to the sun, which was just peeking out from it's hiding place behind the Earth, and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

- - -

Wolf walked out of the stairwell and into a long stretch of hallway leading through the base. Abyx leaned against the wall, waiting for him.*

"Nice view up there, isn't it?" he said. "If you squint off into the horizon you can almost imagine that all this crap is nothing but a bad dream." He stood up, pushing off the wall a bit. "I'll show you to your room," he began, "you can get cleaned up in there. The closet should have some fatigues or jumpsuits... something should fit." He pointed down the hallway, past other junctions leading off to either side, to a set of double swinging doors. "That's the cafeteria, lunch is in an hour. We'll introduce you to everyone as well... sorry about the lack of introductions, most of us haven't seen a new face in a month or more. You're gonna be popular with the masses I'm sure," he said with a wan smile.

Wolf nodded. "That's fine... I wasn't really in my social butterfly mode at the time..." he responded. Abyx inclined his head towards a junctioned hallway nearby. "Well, let's get you to your room," he concluded.

- - -

Wolf had never thought anything could feel as good as the shower he took did. He hadn't felt hot water in weeks, and even though it stung, he stood under the spray for over a half an hour, as though the water could wash away the past few weeks; the heart ache, the blood and pain. He willed the heat to melt away the screams and darkness. He stared into the drain and watched the droplets stream from around his face and vanish into the circular grate.

The shave and makeshift haircut afterwards were almost as amazing. He stood with the towel wrapped around him, leaning on his hands and staring into the mirror. Running a hand through his hair he noted that it was still shaggy, but far, far better than it was an hour ago. He thought of his new name and grinned.

It was while getting dressed that it suddenly occurred to him that there was no way they would have had all this set up for him so quickly. As he zipped up the front of the olive flight suit he found (which actually did fit pretty well) he wondered who last lived in the little room. His stomach rumbled, interrupting his thoughts rudely. After living so long on candy bars and rain water, the mere thought of the aforementioned lunch was enough to make his mouth water. Without a glance back, he left the room and headed to the cafeteria.*

On the way down the hallway to the mess hall, he ran into one of the soldiers who had rescued him. He was dressed down, and looked almost normal without his gear and firearms. "Wolf! Hey, glad you found the place," he said warmly. "Hope you're hungry, cuz' it's the only way you'll be able to stomach what they serve here..." he joked as they approached the door. Wolf nodded with a smile. The soldier extended his hand. "By the way, I'm Macon Dead," he introduced. Wolf looked at him strangely and took his hand. "It's good to meet you Macon. That's and interesting name," he responded. Macon grinned. "I had an interesting family. Come on, let's get some food," he finished, then pushed open one of the doors for the new arrival.

Wolf walked in and looked around. To his right was a long buffet set up. A few soldiers chatted as they slid ever growing trays along the side rails. In front and to the left were two rows of long tables, with enough chairs to seat about a hundred or more people. To his surprise, there were only about twenty scattered about in small groups. Abyx waved at him from one of the gatherings. He raised a hand in response and headed to the buffet with Macon in tow.*

He grabbed two trays, handing one back to Macon, who thanked him. "So where are the others?" Wolf asked. Macon set about collecting food from the buffet as he answered, "This is just about it. Thirty is the most we have at this place. We deploy in teams of six, so that's five fully manned squads on alert at one time. They keep us in small groups in case of a 'compromise'... which is a fancy way to say 'get invaded'. Easier to evac us, and in case we can't be saved, not a lot to lose," he explained.*
"At least you're calm about it," Wolf said, a bit shocked by the frank expression of the base's expendability. He grabbed a carton of milk and offered one to Macon. "Milk?" he asked. Macon shook his head. "No ****ing way man. I've had more than enough of that crap to last me my life time," he said. Wolf raised one eyebrow and shrugged, putting the unaccepted carton back.

They started to make their way to the others when Wolf noticed a bulletin board on the wall. Three lists were posted:

Alpha
1.Butcher*
2.Abyx*
3.Lara*
4.Soul*
5.Macon Dead
6.

Bravo
1.Gib
2.Direktor
3.Ian
4.Blubber
5.Pixel
6.Micah

Delta
1.C.R. Combo
2.Mortan
3.Plankie
4.Vonapier
5.Zynthetic
6.Dastard

Wolf looked at Macon. "What's this for?" he asked. Macon smiled. "It's the ranking board. Top three squads in terms of kills against those things out there," he explained. Wolf examined the lists. "You're in Alpha huh? Guess I was lucky to be found by the best then," he said, half sarcastically. Macon grinned. "Damn right," he agreed. "Delta was actually a top contender for the lead, when they vanished," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

Wolf looked to him. "Vanished?" he asked. Macon nodded. "Combo was one of the few actual soldiers who was stationed here, and one of the few who thought of us as more than cannon fodder. He taught us what we know, and we wouldn't be here if not for him. Month or so ago he goes and hand picks a squad of new folk we had liberated from a survivalist colony outside Canterbury, and trained them to the bone. Apparently the higher ups realized they had some badasses in the making, and sent them on a rescue mission into London. That was a week and a half ago. Haven't heard from them since. We found their helicopter, but it was abandoned," he explained.*

Looking back to the list, Wolf exhaled slowly. "Jesus," he breathed. Macon looked at him. "Actually, we suspect monsters, but he's a possibility until then," he remarked with a forced grin. "Our food's getting cold, come on," he said, ending the conversation and heading towards the table. Wolf looked from him to list and back again, shook his head, and followed. The missing squad was depressing, but after seeing the missing slot in Alpha squad, he had a feeling he knew whose clothes he wore.

They sat with the rest of Macon's team, side by side. On Wolf's other side sat the shotgunner from the toy store. Across from him sat Abyx, and the female soldier sat next to him.* They sat with the rest of Macon's team, side by side. On Wolf's other side sat the shotgunner from the toy store. Across from him sat Abyx and the female soldier. Wolf smiled nervously. Abyx cleared his throat.*

"Wolf, I'd like you to meet Butcher, Lara and Soul of Alpha squad," he introduced.

Wolf shook hands with each in turn, exchanging greetings. Butcher grinned warmly. "Welcome to our humble abode. It isn't much, but it's better than being out there," he said. Wolf nodded. "You've got that much right," he agreed, eying his food.*

Lara gestured to the tray. "Eat, you must be starving after all that. What have you been living on anyway?" she encouraged. He looked up at her with a shrug. "Candy bars, some old fruit and rain water," he replied. Wolf took a mouthful of food and happily chewed. He didn't think anything had ever tasted so good.*

Butcher looked up at his teammates in turn. "Good thing we found you then. Eat though, we can talk enough for you, I promise," he said with a laugh. Wolf went at his food with a vengeance.*

"So I suppose an explanation is in order," Abyx began. Wolf listened, but did not pause in his eating. "We're part of a group known as the DRF; the Disaster Response Force. Normally it would've been a group of soldiers responding to dangerous situations following a natural disaster, such as rioting, civil unrest, etc... but things have led to a more improvised use for us. The drafting of volunteers wasn't part of the plan either, but this whole thing isn't normal," he explained. "As I'm sure you noticed, we operate in squads of six, and larger operations will call for a unit of three squads under one officer. We haven't had many needs for operations that large yet, mostly because larger groups tend to be noticed faster," he finished.*

Soul finished first and leaned back with a yawn. "So, Wolf, Abyx told us you were a survivor of the U.S. invasion. How did you get out of that? Has to be a hell of a story," he asked good naturedly. Wolf stopped in mid-bite for a moment, then chewed a bit and swallowed before answering, his voice flat. "I just got lucky, that's all. There weren't a lot of them that I ran into, so getting to safety was easy enough," he explained.*

Soul nodded. "Don't mean to pry, but do you have any family... or maybe friends waiting for you somewhere?" he asked gently. Butcher and Abyx glanced at him, and then to their guest. Wolf set his fork onto his tray and stood up slowly.*

"No, no one made it out of there. Thanks for lunch guys, I need to get some rest," he said firmly, and walked away before anyone could reply.*

Lara looked at the rest worriedly. Macon sighed. "He'll talk more when he feels ready... no one got through this unhurt, I'm sure he's no different," he pointed out.

"Think he'll stay with us?" Lara asked aloud. "We could use the help, that's for sure."

Abyx finished eating and shrugged calmly. "I doubt it. He has a choice. I can't imagine he'd want to go back out there now," he said. "Besides, I think he's been through a lot worse then he's letting on. I can't blame him," he finished. He stood and collected his tray. The rest quietly finished eating.

- - -

"Oh my God! Get off! GET OOOOOFF! No! Don't leave me!"

"It burns... god it ****ing burns... how bad is it? Be honest..."

"The window! They're coming through the win-"

"HELP ME!"

Wolf shot up out of bed, his bare torso covered in cold sweat. His heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer. Visions of the dream faded slowly as he realized where he was. It didn't quiet the echoing of his friends' screams. His body shook as he sobbed into his hands.*

After collecting himself with some deep breaths, he glanced around and at the bedside clock. Bright blue digits silently shouted 10:34 into the darkness of the room.*

I shouldn't have gone to bed so early,*he thought to himself.*

He flipped his sweat soaked pillow and lay back down for awhile, trying to will his heart to stop racing. He wondered if he would ever be able to sleep peacefully again.*

After laying for awhile, he decided he wasn't getting back to sleep anytime soon and grudgingly slid from his bed. He pulled on a loose fitting shirt he had tossed on the nightstand before crawling into bed, and made his way out of the room. The base was silent as a tomb.*

Wolf wandered downstairs, exploring quietly for awhile. He exited the barracks, passing two guards who patrolled the eerily quiet grounds.*

Wandering from walkway to walkway, he let his mind wander to the recent events he had experienced and people he'd met. He wondered what he would be doing right now if the world hadn't gone to hell.*

A popping sound woke him from his daydreams, and it took him a second to realize it was gunfire. It came in sharp bursts, and sounded unhurried or panicked. Following the sound, he came to a long, low building marked 'Range'. Introspection replaced by curiosity, he slid open the door and entered.*

The interior was a rusty, fluorescent shack with a number of stalls for the practicing of firearm skills. Some were set up for prone fire, some for close range, and many in between. Lockers, cabinets and closets dotted the back of the room. A single soldier stood statue still, a European bull-pup style assault rifle cradled against his shoulder, attention focused downrange. He would fire off a burst in perfect rhythm, leaving half a second between shots to absorb the recoil. In a perfectly practiced motion he ejected the clip, replaced it, slapped it, cocked the weapon and placed it on the shelf in front of him, facing away from him.*

"Couldn't sleep huh?" Abyx asked, then looked his way. Wolf walked to him looking around. "I didn't think you heard me come in," the newcomer admitted.*

Abyx shrugged. "You learn to notice little things. If you let yourself get too focused, get tunnel-visioned, you can get killed pretty quick," he explained. He picked up the rifle and engaged the safety.

Wolf nodded slowly. "You seem to know your stuff for a volunteer," he remarked. Abyx shrugged again. "Just takes practice," he stated, and then without ceremony handed the rifle to Wolf.*

The curious survivor stared at the gun a moment, then looked at Abyx. "What do you want me to do with it?" he asked. "Shoot it," came the reply, "It'll make you feel better, I promise."

After a moment Wolf took the gun. It was heavier then it looked, but not uncomfortably so. Careful to keep it pointed away from them, he examined it carefully and then stepped into the closest stall and brought it up to his shoulder. Abyx adjusted his arms a bit, helping to distribute the weight, and showed him how to hold it against his shoulder firmly.*

"Flick the safety off on the side there. Now take a breath, don't hold it though. You need to remember to breathe in combat. Now*squeeze*the trigger, don't jerk it," the soldier instructed. Wolf braced himself and let off a burst. The kick wasn't nearly as bad as he expected, and a small line of three holes appeared on the wall just past the target.*

"Not bad. Just relax. Keep both eyes open, use your right one to look through the reflex scope here. Just let your eyes place that dot on the target and try again," Abyx corrected.

Wolf squeezed the trigger once again, and this time the rounds struck the target in the torso. He smiled a bit in spite of himself. Abyx nodded encouragingly. "Keep trying, we have plenty of ammo."*

The next couple of hours they worked together, Wolf trying to relax more, Abyx giving hints, tips and telling stories of his sharpshooter training at the base. When Wolf finally placed the weapon down, he had fired off a dozen clips, and his aim had improved considerably. He could reliably hit any part of the target without much error.

"Now don't get cocky, it's easy to hit a stationary target now, but it doesn't mean much when it's not trying to kill you. You can't anticipate the stress or chaos that hits you when you're out there," Abyx advised. "Feel better?" he asked.

Wolf nodded, taking a deep breath and releasing it. "Much... you were right. It's hard to think about my problems when I'm focused like that. Thank you," he said with a smile.*

Abyx nodded. "Not a problem, glad I could help. I don't mean to pry, but do you know what you're going to do now?" The young DRF asked.*

Wolf looked at him. "I know you guys probably want me to volunteer... but I can't... I can't go back out there again. Not after all of that," he said sadly, looking away. Abyx put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's fine with me. Not my place to force you to risk your life again. I just want you to know that we don't do this for us though... Someone has to fight out there. People are depending on us. Think it over, alright?" he suggested.*

Wolf nodded. "Alright, but I can't promise anything..." he replied. Abyx picked up the weapon and placed it in a locker full of similar guns, along with the empty clips. He looked at Wolf. "Just do what you need to do. Meanwhile, this'll be in the locker, if you need to blow off some steam again. Just be careful," he said. "Good night Wolf, hope you sleep better," he finished, heading out of the building.*

Wolf watched him walk away, staying behind a few minutes. "Thanks, Abyx," he said to the empty range.* Wolf had slept better, in retrospect. The last week was the most peaceful and energizing he had experienced in a long time. Strange that it would take something like learning how to shoot to free him from dreams. In the range, he could imagine all his horrors painted across the targets, and he was getting better at hitting them. He had also been getting tips from other members, practicing with Soul, Macon and Butcher.*

It was late, and he made his way to the door of the range absentmindedly. From inside he could hear gunfire, but he noted instantly that it wasn't Abyx. His firing was too methodical, too rhythmic. This was fluctuating. He slid the door open and entered. Only one stall was inhabited, and by the person's build, he could tell it was Lara. He hadn't ran into her yet in the range.*

He watched quietly, noting that her stance was tense. Her firing was solid, but not on target as much as the others usually were. When she stopped firing to reload, he said, "Haven't seen you here before."

Lara drew in a sharp breath and brought her rifle around, startled, only pulling off and aiming at the ceiling just before bringing him in her sights. Wolf stood frozen, eyes wide.*

"I'm so sorry, I thought you'd noticed me come in..." he said quickly. She let out a long breath. "No, it's alright, I'm the one who broke the rules here," she said, flicking on the safety and placing the gun on the shelf. "What are you doing here?" she asked.*

Wolf walked to the weapons locker and selected a bull-pup, grabbing a handful of magazines and a box of ammunition as well. He set up in the stall next to Lara's, and as he loaded the magazines, he answered, "Abyx got me to try shooting for awhile... rather therapeutic isn't it?"

She looked at him through the safety glass that separated them with a small smile, brushing hair from her eyes. "Yeah, it kind of is," she replied, and began to reload her magazines. Wolf slapped a clip into the weapon and cocked it, noting he didn't even have to look anymore. "So what's on your mind that you need therapy for anyway?" he asked.*

Lara glanced sideways at him. "Nothing, really," she answered, adjusting the sight on her weapon. Wolf looked at her. "That's bull. I've walked in here on Abyx, Soul, Butcher, Macon and more and never once did they fail to notice me come in. I know you're at least on par with them... and besides, they scare the hell out of me all the time. Each time it's because I'm thinking of something else," he said, resting on the shelf in front of him.*

She bit her lip, then slowly loaded her weapon and cocked it. "You heard about Delta right?" she asked.*

"Macon told me they vanished on a mission," he replied.

"Yep, that's about right. Well, someone important to me was part of that squad," she said, voice tight. She closed her eyes and sighed shakily. "I don't really want to talk about it..." she finished.*

"Fair enough," Wolf said. " You know what though? There are a lot of people out there who have lost people they love. A lot of them were unlucky enough to watch them die..." He trailed off a bit, then continued, "The lucky ones died with them. You, I know how you feel... you can't help but hope he's still alive, even though you know the chances of that. And it scares you, because you're afraid to hope and allow yourself to be devastated," he finished.*

Lara looked away, running a hand under her eye. "It's hard to keep going, you know? I can't stop thinking about him... I can't shoot straight, I can't focus. I'm afraid I'm going to get someone killed. I keep thinking he's alive, but I'm terrified that some day they'll find him, and I'll know..." she said, her voice unsteady. "I'm not even a soldier... I don't know how this all ended up like this..."

"Lara, no, you're not a soldier, and no, you don't know if he's coming back... but you're doing something. You're not hiding, you're out there helping the lost and scared... your team needs you as much as you need them for that. Every person you bring back from out there is someone who will get to see the one*they*love. You're a hero, Lara," Wolf said.

Lara sniffed as she rubbed an eye, and then smiled at Wolf. "When did you become the group therapist?" she joked lightly. Wolf smiled sadly and looked away. "You guys saved me... might as well help somehow. I was never much good at anything, but I could usually make people feel better," he replied.*

A few moments passed quietly. "So... Abyx says you aren't going to stay with us?" she asked without accusation. Wolf nodded slowly. "I wish I could, but I just can't go back out there... I can't imagine facing those things again," he said carefully.

"After everything you just told me... about fighting for something, helping others... why?" she asked, curious.

"Because I watched my reason to fight die," he said quietly. He opened his mouth to continue when the room was suddenly flooded with red light. Wolf looked around confused a moment.*

"We're being deployed," Lara said. She looked at Wolf as though she wanted to say more, then shook her head and ran for the door. Butcher stood at the front of the room. The entire staff of the base was assembled before him. The only two actual soldiers who were at the base at all, including the one who had given him his orders, stood at the side and watched him like hawks.

Lara had just walked in, and watched him calmly. She looked brighter than she had earlier at breakfast. He dreaded what he was about to do to her improved mood.*

The unit leader cleared his throat and was about to speak when he saw Wolf slip into the back and stand near the rear wall.*

"Alright guys, listen up. We just received some urgent intelligence and orders to deploy," he began. "It's a rescue op. A big one. In downtown London," he explained and paused to let the information sink in.*

Murmuring spread around the room. The idea of survivors still in London was shocking enough, but the place was a rat trap, too many dead ends and too many monsters.*

When the room quieted a bit, Butcher continued. "Reports came in from a routine helicopter recon flight over downtown twenty minutes ago. Apparently there was a group of refugees running from a bunch of creatures," he said, then paused, glancing at Lara a moment. "The pilots reported gunfire from the refugees," he said. Lara's eyes widened a moment before she quickly collected herself.*

"The pilots couldn't find a safe place to touch down to extract the survivors, so they gave them as much air cover as they could afford before being forced to return for fuel. They are on their way back now,and immediately after fueling will take Alpha and Bravo out into the field. This gets uglier though. Before turning back, the pilots reported the group breaking into two, one being the unarmed survivors, led by two men, and the other one being the group of armed combatants. The gunmen appeared to be trying to lead off the main mass of creatures while the others got away," he related.

"Alpha will be dropped into combat along with the gunmen, while Bravo will be sent in to reinforce the unarmed refugees. Both squads will proceed to make their way through the streets to the John Labatt Centre for extraction. Alpha will have to stall for time before moving to the Center to avoid leading the creatures to the refugees before they can be removed. The army will be sending in transport choppers of their own to help with their recovery. Any questions?" he asked.*

Abyx raised his hand. Butcher nodded to him. "The JLC isn't an open air stadium, you aren't suggesting we climb the walls to the roof are you?" He asked.*

Macon spoke up. "During the fighting in the city when all this first broke out they tried a rescue mission a lot like this one... they got the ceiling down, but the chopper pilot wasn't quick enough to get into the opening. They lost everyone," he explained. "We're gonna use their exit right?"*

Abyx glanced at him a moment, then looked to Butcher, who nodded to the group. "You have about 15 minutes. Get yourselves ready," he said. He glanced around and noted that Wolf was gone.*

The two groups emptied out and left to gear up. The equipment room was full of the members of Alpha and Bravo squads. Abyx was zeroing in the scope of his PSG-1 when Wolf walked in. The young soldier wiped the lens carefully with a soft cloth, not looking up.*

Wolf seemed to think for a bit before he spoke. "That wasn't much of a pep talk back there..." he said awkwardly. Lara looked at him a second, and he could see in her eyes a painful shimmer of hope. She smiled sadly. "Urban fighting is the worst when it comes to these things... but hey, with three squads-" she began.

"Two," Abyx interrupted, "two squads. There was no confirmation that whoever out there was part of Delta. We can't even assume they won't fire on us," he said.*

Wolf looked between them both. Abyx looked at him. "Twice a month or so a chopper comes in with supplies for the base. When they arrive, they'll take you somewhere safe. In the event we don't return, be careful, there aren't a lot of people here and this place could be breached," he warned, voice calm and analytical.*

Macon looked at the sniper as he slid a standard 9mm handgun into his leg holster. "Don't listen to him Wolf, he's just worrying too much. We'll be back in time for dinner," he said, voice upbeat.*

Wolf shook his head. "This isn't right though... you guys shouldn't be going out alone like this..."

Lara brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes and looked up. "Hey, it's our job... and my reason for fighting might be out there in the first place..." she replied.*

Abyx secured his two 9mm handguns and shouldered his sniper rifle. He selected an assault rifle from the case and began checking it. Soul shouldered his bullpup and walked to Wolf. He reached out and clasped his upper arm. "Hey... just in case, it was good to meet you," he said warmly. Wolf nodded mutely.

Abyx just finished loading when he saw Wolf calmly take a pistol holster from an unused locker and begin to secure it around his leg. The rest of Alpha stopped and looked to him.*

"What are you doing?" Butcher asked, paused in the middle of loading his combat shotgun.

Wolf didn't look up, but tightened the straps around his thigh. "I'm going with you," he responded lightly. The Alpha members looked among themselves, unsure of how to react.

"What makes you think you can just hop in our squad? You have no training, no discipline, no military background," the squad leader insisted. Wolf shrugged. "Neither do you, really. You said you were volunteers. I'm volunteering," he announced.*

The newcomer began pulling on an equipment harness. "You can't do that," said Abyx sternly. Now Wolf wheeled on them, fire in his eyes. "Like hell I can't. You people are going into a potentially suicidal situation without a full squad and almost no intelligence. You might very well be flying out to die protecting the corpses of civilians that may already be dead. Maybe you all have your reasons for going out, but now I do too. You may be the only people who have given a **** about me in the last couple of months, and after all I've been through, all I've seen, you're the only friends or family I have left, so don't you dare expect me to sit here and let you guys die," he cried.*

The room was silent for awhile, each person lost in their own thoughts. Abyx scratched his head a bit and took a deep breath. "I meant you can't put the harness on yet, it goes over your body armor. Otherwise you can't get to your pouches and whatnot," he corrected. Wolf blinked, surprised.*

Butcher shouldered his shotgun and slid a combat knife in his sheath. As he walked out, he looked at Abyx. "Make sure he's suited up right, I don't want him choking to death on his shirt collar or something," he said.

Wolf smiled to himself and looked back. Abyx finished suiting up and helped him don his armored vest. When they were finished equipping him, he was carrying two 9mm handguns a combat knife and a bullpup. Abyx was helping to straighten out his communicator when Lara stepped up to them.*

"Why are you coming out there? You know the chances, you could go back, have a life, forget about all of this..." she said, meeting Wolf's eyes. He looked back, forcing a smile. "I have to, I owe it to my friends... we all have to stop running away someday... and there's no way I could forget all this... this is the first peace of mind I've had in who knows how long... even before the invasion," he replied. "If I let you guys go... I'll never sleep again... I know it..." he finished.

Lara smiled warmly and left, heading for the helipad. Wolf sighed softly, and then let out an 'urk' when Abyx jerked his abdomen strap tight. He looked to the young soldier who tapped him on the forehead. "You'd better damn well be paying attention out there. No daydreaming until after we're back," he accused, not without a glint of amusement and understanding in his eye. "Now let's get moving. I'll give you tips along the way..."

Wolf strode along behind them, armored and strapped into fatigues and heavy boots. Lightly his fingers held the assault rifle to his chest. He could feel sweat beginning to spread under the thick fabrics. Ahead of him Butcher and Soul stood beneath the transparent black disk of the choppers active rotors, shouting to each other from inches away. Both held black matte combat shotguns which hung from straps around their torsos. Lara knelt by the chopper, taking stock of a number of small vials in a complicated bandoleer that criss-crossed her slender form. Macon sat quietly in the chopper, listening to a small set of headphones and quietly inspecting his weapon.*

To his left, he saw on the roof of the adjacent building another group of soldiers, Bravo team, readying up for combat. One of them, Micah, if he remembered right, raised a hand in greeting. Wolf returned the wave. The blinding spot and landing lights gave the scene a dreamlike quality.*

"OK, first things first, you have to remember when this all gets ugly, you need to relax. Don't panic, don't freeze up. Keep thinking, keep doing something... if you move, if you're busy, you don't have time to flip out. Don't think about what you are shooting at, keep a song in your head if you have to, just think of them as targets. If you run out of ammo, or don't have time to reload, use your pistols. One at a time though, hold it with both hands too. You aren't Rambo so make the shots count," Abyx rattled off as they approached the chopper.*

Wolf nodded. "Why does everyone keep rechecking their weapons like that? Should I be?" the newly suited soldier asked.

Abyx looked at him. "They're trying not to piss themselves. It's OK to be afraid," he stated.*

Wolf wasn't though. He pondered it for a bit, the calm that he felt. He knew what he was going to be facing, knew what it meant... but somehow it didn't seem real, seemed far off. It reminded him of the first time he went sky diving. It was surreal, not terrifying at all as he boarded the plane. The whole way up the ground kept growing farther and farther away. Even when the door opened, he was calm. It wasn't until he dangled from the plane, staring thousands of feet into open sky, that he was struck by the terror of it all. He expected that was how it would go, and he was worried about failing the others.

They reached the craft and boarded, the two of them followed by Lara, and then joined by Soul and Butcher. The team leader looked at Wolf. "Just make sure you don't shoot us out there," he said. Wolf nodded. "If there was still an army left, there wouldn't be a need for this cluster-****," Soul added.

Abyx showed Wolf how to set up his communicator, and indicated what keys opened which channels. The rotors began to speed up as the pilot prepared to take off, and the sound drowned out everything outside of the head set.*

"Last chance to get out," Abyx crackled over the comm. Wolf smiled wryly at him and then turned to look outside. The night sky was brightening slowly with the coming dawn, and the sunlight seemed to melt outward from the center of the horizon like liquid fire. He felt his seat shift, and then the ground slowly began to drift away from them. A few dozen feet away an identical chopper carrying Bravo was already in the air and pulling forward. There was no going back now.

As they drifted over the city, Wolf stared in wonder and horror. Bodies*
were everywhere, strewn about like toys and rotting in the morning sun. Cars piled up like grotesque caricatures of fornication, many aflame. People hung halfway out the windows, hands formed eternally in blackened claws that reached for salvation. London was now the City of Dis, and all those who inhabited it burned in their sepulchers.*

He hadn't expected the birds though. There were hundreds of thousands of them, and they flocked around, feasting on the discarded humanity that was presented before them. The newest Alpha could see blood-stained pigeons fluttering through the air. This was what hell must be.*

His comm crackled to life as the voice of the pilot came through, lifting Wolf from his reverie. "We have some movement on the rooftops ahead. Keep your eyes open for any survivors down below," he reported. The young survivor glanced out and around at the city. He could see some of the creatures moving around below, and a few had gathered on the roofs and were watching them pass. Ahead, a number of office buildings towered above them, and he could see movement in their windows. Beyond that was an industrial zone. Where had all of them come from? The more he stared at the ones who watched them pass, the more the uncanny similarity they all shared stood out.*

Over the noise of the helicopter no one heard the glass shatter. Later on Wolf would would attribute it to one of the creatures referred to as a Bloat falling from a passing sky scraper. The squad only heard the horrific grinding noise, a wretched scream as bones, flesh and gristle were torn apart in an instant. The entire craft reverberated with the shock of the impact, dropping several feet under the weight of the falling monster.*

Everyone reeled, trying to brace themselves inside the shaken craft. The pilot's curses streamed in an inaudible flood over the communicators as he fought for control. The rotors were making a different sound now, sort of a ratcheting noise that was chilling to hear. The pilot had almost regained some semblance of control over the chopper when the first rotor came off, the acid of the creature having damaged the structure to the point of a catastrophic break down. The rest of the rotors, moving as quickly as they were, caught the broken rotor as they spun, obliterating it and destroying the rest of the engine.*

Wolf heard the pilot's voice over the broadcast comm channel. "This is Sparrow 1 to Sparrow 2, we've lost our main rotor and are going down, repeat, we've lost our rotor and are going down!" he said, trying to remain calm. The craft began to spin and tilt forward, careening through the sky.*

This wasn't how this was supposed to go,*thought Wolf lamely, choking on his panic. The sound of the world around him was mute, and only in his stomach could he feel the cartwheeling craft like a roller coaster to oblivion. The other members of Alpha were yelling at one another, trying to brace, or just screaming.*

Then darkness.

When Wolf awoke, he was in hell. The only sound around him was the roar of flame and a horrible grinding noise. He forced his eyes open and let in pain and horror. All around him was fire and chaos. Levels and catwalks of twisted metal loomed and crossed above him, burning liquid dripping from their mangled rails.*

He tried to move and realized he was pinned, his body immobilized by a length of metal that reached out from a gnarled iron hulk that rested on his chest. Every breath was agony. As he looked around, he could see legions of corpses impaled upon spikes. They danced with the fire that blackened and consumed them, undulating ecstatically upon their lances.*

His mind had snapped, and he had gone mad. It was the only answer. He vaguely remembered a dream, a long time ago, back when he lived.*

Movement. He glanced up, tilting his head back. It was Lara, crawling to him, her face streaked with blood and sweat that mingled and dripped steaming to the concrete under them. Her mouth worked soundlessly as her hands reached for him. Her eyes, once startling for another reason, now wildly stared at him. This was his fate, to be devoured by his mad friends, and he couldn’t even remember why.

“Wolf!” her voice cut through his clouded thoughts like a knife. Hearing his name, hearing her speak, had woken him up. Instantly his body filled with agony. He looked back at what had pinned him and saw it was the rotor of their helicopter. They were in a large building, and the chopper had crashed through the ceiling. The pilot was dead and lie impaled upon the shatter glass of the cockpit, his blood a crimson river that bisected the serial number of the vehicle. The rotor’s motor grinded as it tried to turn under its weight.

“Wolf, are you ok? Can you tell if anything’s broken?” she asked quickly, reaching back into her medical satchel. It was damp, and obviously some of her supplies had broken in the crash. Her shirt revealed a gash on her shoulder, and the fabric darkened around it.*

He tried to nod, realized that was foolish, and then spoke, his throat scorched by the heated air. “I’m… I’m alright… can you get this off of me?”*

The young medic eased down over him, trying to be careful in case he was injured, and gripped the rotor. She braced herself on the ground and pushed, putting her weight behind it, and the rotor moved a few inches. Wolf slowly reached behind him, terrified of a broken limb, and began to pull his body out from under the steel trap. When his legs were freed, Lara released the rotor, which settled back to the ground.

She knelt down near him again, her face concerned. “Are you alright?” she asked. He took a deep breath, feeling his ribs ache. “I hurt all over, but I think I’ll live… what the hell happened?” he rasped.

“Our helicopter went down…” she began, readying her syringe. “We crashed here… I couldn’t help the pilot, but I think our harnesses saved us,” she explained. “Here, don’t move,” she instructed and slid the injector into his arm.*

He winced at the pain and felt his body loosen as the cool drug entered his system. “Why was I outside the chopper?” he asked lamely.*

“You were like that when we woke up,” a pained voice nearby croaked. Turning his head he saw Abyx, his left arm bandaged tightly to his body, leaning against a crate. Behind him Wolf could see legions of silent figures.*

“And the bodies?” he asked. Abyx stared at him confused, then looked behind him. “Mannequins…” he said with a chuckle, “We crash landed in a department store warehouse.”

Wolf gingerly sat up, trying to assess the pain his body was reporting. Butcher held up Soul as they limped closer.*

“We need to get moving,” the commander said. “We still have a job to do, and that fire’ll attract those things like moths.”

Lara slipped an arm under Wolf’s shoulder and helped him stand. “Can you walk? How’s the shot?” she asked, worried. The young man nodded. “I’m fine, it helped dull the pain a little. Where’s Macon?” he asked, suddenly realizing they were missing a member.*

“He’s scouting the road,” Abyx replied. “Don’t worry, he seems like the luckiest one of all of us. We have the weapons we could find all together. We’re still operational.”

After all was sorted out Wolf was fully equipped again. His chest hurt like hell, but whatever Lara had shot him up with was doing wonders for him. They moved to the side exit of the warehouse, where Macon stood guard, head slightly exposed to watch outside. Butcher moved to the other side of the door and peered outside.*

When he leaned back inside, he looked worried. Not saying a word, he gestured with his shotgun barrel and the team moved outside silently. From the air it had looked like a scene out of a nightmare, but on the ground London was a landscape out of the darkest dreams of the most deranged minds. Fires sprung up here and there, the source of many no longer recognizable but still fueling the small flames. Cars were backed up and wrecked everywhere, and the streets glittered with broken glass like a frozen ocean. Bodies hung dismembered and lacerated out of cars and building windows, impaled and sliced by the remnants of the bloodstained panes. A gutter nearby was clogged with what looked like a pound of flesh wrapped in a shirt. A gelatinous puddle of viscera had collected around it, and three severed fingers were hardened into the soup. Nearby a police car sat silently, it's lights still on and rotating and silent. Off in the distance a car alarm echoed through the still air.*

Wolf almost gagged on the smell, and the terror of what he was doing finally latched onto his skull. His heart pounded and his breath became shaky. He almost screamed when he felt a warm hand alight on his own. He looked at Lara who stood near him with a medic's compassion in her eyes. Abyx, just behind her, watched him quietly.*

The young survivor took a deep breath and shook himself mentally, then nodded to Lara. They had a job to do, and people were counting on him. He adjusted his rifle and looked back out over the city. It wasn't much different then his town looked after the invasion he survived, just the buildings were taller. He forced himself to look at it all, taking it in, telling himself what each lump was and giving a name to each body, trying to desensitize himself to the scene.

Butcher pointed across the street, tapped two fingers on his arm and pumped a fist in the air. Soul, favoring his leg, followed Macon across the street, shotguns held ready. Abyx planted his rifle on the nearby trunk of a car and watched the area around the two for movement. The two made it across and flattened themselves against the side of the building they were near. They had crossed through a three-way intersection, the crossbar of the T along the warehouse and the bisecting road leading away from the crash site and towards their goal.

The Alpha squad commander looked at Lara and Wolf and nodded. The untested member followed the medic as she dashed across the road, forcing himself to still watch and note everything, no matter how grotesque and horrifying. He reminded himself about tunnel-vision, listening to Abyx's lectures in his head. Once they were over Soul made a gesture, prompting Abyx to shoulder his rifle and follow Butcher as they crossed over, dodging cars and corpses as they jogged.*

Soul, who stood at the corner, leaned out and looked around and then turned to the squad. Speaking almost inaudibly, he muttered, "There's nothing out there sir. I don't like this."

Butcher nodded. "Then we glance and go, move down the road quickly and calmly. If we haven't been noticed, it'll give us time to get moving towards the stadium," he ordered quietly, not whispering, but at a low mutter.

Soul turned back to the corner and stared into the startling blue eyes of a nude young woman. A heartbeat occurred where nothing happened, and then she opened her mouth and screamed, long bloody talons extending to the side. In the same instant, the DRF point man blew her in half at the waist with a single shell. Ichor sprayed like a run-over fruit as her torso flipped in the air and landed on the twitching legs below.*

"Jesus Christ, where the******did that come from?" Soul shouted. Before anyone could say anything, a cacophony of moans and cries arose from in front of and behind them. Down both ends of the road they were on that ran parallel with the warehouse, movement could be seen in the distance.*

Butcher stepped away from the wall and looked back and forth quickly. "RUN!" he screamed.
The team ran, and Wolf dashed with them, around the corner and down the horror-filled streets. They were only a short distance along when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

He glanced over his shoulder at three other women, all eerily similar in appearance, loping after them, their lithe, nude forms streaked with blood, all eroticism obliterated by a curtain of gore. He didn't see where they had come from.

"Behind us!" he yelled and turned to fire. He shouldered the rifle and let loose, the recoil taking him by surprise. His first few shots took the lead woman in the upper torso, destroying her left breast and then her collarbone. She spun like a dancer and fell, great gouts of blood and chips of bone flying out onto the streets. A scream tore from her throat, and it was so close to human Wolf was stricken.*

The other two were right in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to act, couldn't think of anything but that scream and his own terror. He went deaf, and the two creatures' upper bodies exploded almost simultaneously.*

Soul and Macon both replaced their spent shells as Abyx grabbed Wolf. The newcomer looked at his friend, his ears ringing, and the young sniper slapped him, hard, across the jaw. "RUN GODDAMMIT!" Abyx yelled. Wolf snapped to himself, looked back and then ran with them.*

His lungs burned, and his chest ached from the crash. His ears were still ringing from the dual shotguns. He tried to visualize how many rounds he had fired, tried to keep count, but kept seeing the light go out of those vibrant eyes as he shot the woman.*No, the creature, that's what she was...*he told himself. He slipped in some blood, caught himself and kept running. He was pissed that he let the recoil get to him after he did so well in the range.

They leapt over a police barricade, dodging the bird-pecked corpses of the ill-fated officers, and turned down a side street. Behind them the mass of monsters flowed around from both corners, merging into a tidal wave of claws and rage.

"Squad, in here!" Butcher shouted, gesturing to a library around the corner from where they ran. The team moved quickly, jumping rubble and bodies.*

Wolf ran in side, followed by Lara. Macon and Abyx pushed the two heavy doors closed quickly. Butcher and Soul, the latter obvious in pain from his ankle, were pushing a huge oak desk across the foyer to act as a barricade. Lara and Wolf joined in, and their combined strength was enough to force the furniture against the thick doors. Soul, Macon and Butcher moved to the front windows, which were built like murder holes to keep the library dimly lit. It made them far too thin for something to crawl through. Abyx moved to a side window and deployed his rifle.*

Wolf slumped against a desk, his body burning with over-exertion. He wiped a gloved hand over his face and felt something sticky. Looking at his gloves, and then his body, he realized he had been soaked with the blood of the female creatures as they were hit by the shotguns. He blinked, the realization not affecting him, and wondered if he was losing parts of himself every time he noticed these things.*

Butcher, sighting down his shotgun scope, tensed. "Here they come, make sure they understand the library's closed," he said and then pulled the trigger. A loud click echoed in the library, and he lifted his gun. "What the ****? God-damned piece of ****... it must've broke in the crash!" he shouted, pissed. The other members opened fire as he cracked it open, inspecting it, oblivious to the combat.*

His eyes were still on the shotgun when a claw flashed through the window at him. In one motion, he blocked the claw with the defunct weapon, which the creature, unseen to Wolf, grabbed madly. In the same move he swept the weapon across, breaking the things elbow backwards against the stone window frame. The commander dropped the useless gun, still clutched in the thing's useless arm and drew his handgun, firing as he brought it up. "You want a gun, **** rag? Take this one!" he shouted angrily. The arm let go of the shotgun and slipped out the window.

Lara grabbed Wolf's arm urgently. "We need to find a back door out of this place," she said, her voice partially muted by gunfire. Wolf nodded to her, and together they loped back into the building.*

"Stay low and try to be quiet," the medic whispered. Wolf followed her instructions, trying to shy away from the nearby windows. The library was a wreck, most of its books missing or molding. The place was old and musty, but looked unmolested by the monsters. In the back of the library was an arched doorway that led to a small, disorganized kitchen. As they searched, the sounds of intermittent gunfire continued along with an undulating wave of screams and moans from outside.*

Through another door they found themselves in a reading room, and at the back of that, an exit to the rear of the building. Moving to the small windows that flanked it, they peered cautiously outside, looking for anything that might have gotten around them. The streets were empty, save for an overrun roadblock that looked to have been set up by militia.*

Lara pressed on Wolf's shoulder, urging him to remain where he was and placed a finger against her lips. He nodded and ducked out of sight. The female soldier crept back out of the room, leaving Wolf to himself, the popcorn-like sound of combat muffled by the walls. He looked around a bit, noting the two large, comfortable reading chairs and various scattered books. A fireplace sat cold and full of ash before them, and above it hung, somewhat out of place, a simple and elegant Japanese sword. Wolf debated for a moment and then decided it would be more of a hindrance then a help. He wondered briefly what kind of librarian would need a sword.*

A moment later the gunfire ceased, and the rest of Alpha entered the room. Wolf stood and nodded to them. Butcher gestured to the door, which Wolf opened, and the team moved outside.

"Looks like they didn't notice..." muttered the commander as they moved past the militia road block. He stopped to glance down the road while the rest of the team moved by. Wolf stopped and glanced back at him, wondering what he was doing, when he noticed something strange in the air behind his leader. It was like a heat mirage, moving quickly along the pavement towards the Alpha team leader. Dread filled him like a pool of cold liquid in his chest.*

"Behind you!" was all he could croak out as the mirage suddenly sharpened into one of the nude female creatures. Butcher turned in a flash and fired a shot into it's sternum. In the same motion, the monster buried its claws into his shoulders, screeching in pain and anger.*

The team spun quickly, bringing their weapons to bear but holding back when they saw Butcher was in the way. The commander grunting in pain and dropped his pistol to grab the thing's claws. It forced him back against a ruined pickup truck, wrestling to get free and cause more damage.*

"Push it off, give us a shot!" cried Soul, shouldering his shotgun and drawing his pistol.*

Their commander's face was a grimace of anger and pain. He could feel the monster's talons in his flesh, trying to reach something vital. The thing was strong, and it's weight was forcing him back down against the street underneath it. He could feel the creature's body writhing against his, trying to gain the purchase it needed to overpower and eviscerate him. "You... goddamned... *****..." he grunted as he fell. He to the side and saw salvation in the arms of a corpse. Reversing his grip, he pulled the female assailant closer and then rammed his forehead into her face. He could feel something break under the head-butt, and for a second, a fraction of time, the thing let up it's pressure.*

He grabbed the dead man's gift that lay beside him and slammed it into the head of the now-bleeding horror. It released him and reeled back, giving Butcher just enough room to swivel the twin barrels of the hunting shotgun in line with it's body.*

God I hope this thing is loaded, he thought as he pulled the trigger. The blast was enormous, the twin heavy grade buckshot utterly obliterating it's body above the thighs and turning it into a fine red vapor. He stood up and spat on the legs that twitched on the road. "How'd that taste?" he asked victoriously. Picking up a sack of shells that lay near the previous owner's hand, he tied it onto his harness haphazardly and fished out two to reload.*

Alpha stood quietly for a moment. Macon let out a low whistle. When Lara moved to help him, he looked up. "No time," he said, silencing her before she spoke. "We need to go."

It didn’t take the creatures long to pick up their scent again after the short lived firefight. The squad ran, caution thrown to the wind, in the direction of the stadium. Or at least I hope the stadium is this way, thought Wolf, having lost his bearings long back.*

They were quickly becoming exhausted, and it showed, the wounds and trauma of the crash not helping the situation. The shoulders of Butcher’s fatigues were a damp red, but if he was in any great pain it didn’t show on his face. It was almost inspiring, and made Wolf put just a bit more effort into his strides.*

They were three-fourths of the way down the block when the wave of monsters reached the blockade that had delayed the squad. They weren’t far, and their constant moans were unnerving. Wolf could swear he heard them actually talking, but chalked it up to his rattled nerves. Glancing back he couldn’t help but feel a chill crawl along his back. The things didn’t seem to tire at all, and with their stamina depleting, it was inevitable they would be caught. The new recruit tried hard to force this train of thoughts from his mind.*

The end of the road was approaching, and it curved off in an ‘L’ shape to the right. They cut the corner sharply, wheeling around the blood-splattered sidewalk that hugged the skyscraper that boxed them in on the right, and stopped.*

Two soldiers in combat gear and gasmasks stood thirty feet from them, guns ready, in front of a wall of wrecked cars.*

“Stay on the sidewalk! Landmines!” Shouted one of them, gesturing quickly. With renewed vigor brought on from hope, Alpha ran like hell along the side of the building. Wolf glanced at the road and saw metallic lumps hidden among bodies and broken car parts. They had just reached the line of vehicles when the first of them came around the corner. They were the female monsters, a tell-tale waver like that of a street on a hot day giving them away. Wolf wouldn’t miss it again.*

“Lay down fire, keep the fast-movers off the mines!” shouted a voice from somewhere nearby. Forms sprung up around the unnatural barricade and brandished firearms. Wolf, followed by Lara, leapt over the cars last, and the air filled with the sound of gunfire. Butcher and the others of Alpha drew pistols and shouldered assault rifles, firing with the rest of the combatants. The wavering forms that dashed along the road seemed to sprout chrysanthemums of scarlet as the wave of gunfire struck them, and their unholy cries filled the air as their bodies were torn apart. As they died they seemed to pop into clarity, the effect that hid them vanishing with their lives. The last went down, and the defenders ceased fire.*

“Move, everyone, into the building!” barked one of the soldiers, and the group moved quickly into a nearby building catty corner from where they dashed from. Wolf’s eyes took a few moments to adjust to the gloom, and when he did he could tell they were in a utility entrance to some kind of apartment building. Two of the men who were from the other squad quickly drew portable torches and began welding the steel fire door to its frame.*

A proud-looking soldier gestured to a nearby doorway. “There’s a set of stairs that’ll lead down into the underground here. These buildings are all connected, let’s move,” he ordered. Butcher stopped him with a hand on his arm as he turned to leave, and the other man looked at the Alpha leader.*

“Combo,” Butcher spoke. The other leader removed his mask, revealing a scarred but confident face. “We have a lot to talk about, but now is not the time,” CR said, clasping the Alpha team leader’s hand warmly.*

In the air hung unease, a need to talk and to explain. The commanders waved the men forward, and the group headed quickly, but quietly into the stairwell. They were halfway down when the building shook. Muffled thumps emanated from the road they had fled, signaling the one-sided clash between the specimens and the mines.

The concrete stairs were narrow and dim, lit only by intermittent bare light bulbs that hung from the piping above. Water stains and rust covered every surface like a skin disease, and the air was musty and chill.*

Wolf walked just behind Macon, who seemed oddly relaxed, if winded. Behind him was a young man in a dark blue T-shirt that depicted two encircled stars, the smaller inverted and in the middle of the first. He carried a pistol in a shoulder holster and a flashlight on his belt.*

“Nice shirt,” Wolf muttered. The civilian gave a slight grin.*

“Thanks,” he replied, “always liked the design… bizarre choice for a war zone though.”

“The bright colors just means they’ll go after him first,” said another young man, this one dressed in red. He toted what looked like an antique lever-action rifle on one shoulder.*

“Bite me Chris,” the one in blue responded. Butcher looked back a held up a menacing finger and the talk quieted down.*

The group reached the bottom of the stairs and filed out through a doorway into a low underground tunnel. Working quickly, the Charlie team soldiers welded the door shut behind them quickly. Combo turned to the group. “We can rest here a moment and then we need to move. Greet your mates, get reacquainted, and then we’ll be off,” he stated. Turning to Butcher, he continued, “You guys were sent after the civvies right?” he asked.

Butcher nodded and proceeded to explain the situation to him. Wolf looked away to the others, and the soldiers were all talking in huddled whispers, exchanging hugs and grasps and hand shakes. The new recruit watched in amusement at the scene. Glancing down the tunnel, he noticed two more people, one leaning on the other, dressed in fatigues and his leg in a splint. The rest of Alpha looked his way, and a single voice inhaled sharply.*

“Mortan!” Lara cried out, running to him. She threw her arms around him despite his injuries and they held one another, laughing and crying softly. For awhile, no one said a thing, but it seemed as though a weight was lifted from all of them. Somehow, seeing the two together was a spark of hope in the bleak tunnels of what used to be London.*

Transcript of Debriefing of DRF #000124 at UMB Facility 03
8/15 14:12:35
Encryption Code: BLK

CMD: This is General David Whitman, at the debriefing of DRF operative 000124. Beginning recording. Can you explain to me the events leading up to the firefight at the convention center?

124: Yes sir. The three DRF units in the field were escorting a group of survivors to the convention center for evacuation.

CMD: How did the units link up? It appears on record that Charlie company was considered MIA, and not originally part of this operation.*

124: Alpha and Charlie met up three blocks from the center at a roadblock. The units eluded the specimens in pursuit by escaping into the service area below the buildings. That's where I was reunited with my lover as well.

CMD: Please keep this as detached as possible. We're interested only in the final events of the day for now. A personal report can follow in your own time.*

124: Yes sir, I apologize sir.*

CMD: Continue then, what happened afterward?*

124: Our two units linked up with Bravo coming out of the service area and made our way to the convention center.*

CMD: Are you alright soldier?

124: Yes sir, I apologize for the momentary loss of composure. The specimens had picked up our trail by then, and we retreated into the center as quickly as we could. We welded and barricaded the doors shut and sent a flare for evac through the collapsed roof.*

CMD: What happened then?*

124: The helicopters came in, two at a time. We helped load up the civilians but...

CMD: Is there something wrong soldier?

124: Excuse my emotions, sir. We had at that point expected three more aircraft.*

CMD: And you are aware that was not possible. Observe protocol. Finish your explanation.*

124: Yes sir. There was room for only one of us on the last helicopter. There were a few more obvious choices but it seemed the decision had been made long before.*

CMD: By this... Wolf. A newcomer in Alpha squad.*

124: Yes sir.*

CMD: Do you remember anything he said?

124: I remember very clearly the last thing he said. It was, and I quote, "Lara, I hope you'll forgive me."

CMD: What happened after that?

124: I don't know. I woke up here.*

CMD: Thank you soldier. This is General Whitman, ending debriefing.*

==LOG OVER==

It didn't take the group long to get reacquainted. It was almost mystical, Wolf mused, how the morale jumped with the reuniting of the two units. The way the near-silent laughter and whispered stories filled the gloom was surreal, as though the soldiers suddenly stopped believing in the dangers just above.*

For those ten minutes, time that seemed like an eternity, the world was a better place. Even Wolf, being pulled into groups of bloody and wounded men who laughed like children at the introduction of the new member, felt lighter and at ease. He was listening to one of the members, Plankie he said his name was, describing the circumstances regarding each notch on the grungy fire axe he wielded when Butcher gave a low whistle, and immediately the entire group went silent and turned.*

Butcher and CR spoke in low voices between themselves a moment. The Alpha squad leader turned to the assembled group. "Alright, that's all we can do for a break for the moment. We need to get moving. Hopefully at this point Bravo has linked up with the rest of the survivors and are either on their way to or are at the JLC. I'll try to make contact with them when we aren't underground," he informed them.*

Combo stepped forward, letting his bull-pup rest lightly under his arm. "Alright, Alpha team is leading us out, they have the guns and the R&R, so they'll be more combat effective. Dastard, Plankie, you'll be pulling Mortan again. Vonapier, Zynth, you'll cover our flanks," he commanded. He turned to the small group of civilians who stood, worry on their faces, clutching their limited weaponry protectively. "You'll cover the rear. This is what we've been waiting for. A ticket home. It's only a few blocks away. Don't give up on me now," he finished.*

The groups silently assembled, a few more words of encouragement and handshakes between them. Lara placed a hand on Mortan's cheek and kissed him lightly, smiling at him before whispering something in parting before rejoining Alpha.*

Butcher nodded quietly to CR and started moving down the underground corridor. Alpha followed, with Charlie and the civilians trailing behind. Wolf felt the fingers of panic creeping into his chest again, and forced himself to calm down, angry that he would be terrified again after all they just survived.*

The team arrived at the far end of the utility tunnel, and an identical set of concrete stairs led up to god-knew where. Behind him, Wolf could hear weapons cocking as the soldiers readied themselves.*

- - -

Out of way. Hurts. Hunger like ice. So many, so many as always. Friends, not food. Food is in wall. Underneath. Can smell, smells good. Flesh. Blood. So long. So few. Constant hurt, hurts, pain. Sound. Metal. Far away. Can see, smell, taste the air. They run, scurry, flee. They see. We see. Will eat. Run now.*

- - -

They came out quickly and methodically, swinging their weapons to bear with a crisp, snapping motion, ready for whatever lay beyond the exit. The sun was blinding after being underground, and they tried to keep their gazes downcast to avoid leaving themselves helpless.*

Charlie followed behind, Plankie with his axe slung in his belt and Mortan on his back. Dastard came out behind, keeping an eye on the two. Combo, Zynth and Vonapier covering and overlapping their cover with Alpha. The two civilians came last, nervous but determined.*

Butcher looked down the road behind them. Two blocks away, the horde they evaded milled about, scratching at the wall of the building they vanished into. Almost by accident one of the monsters, a plain, human looking one, glanced up and met the leader's gaze.*

"**** me," he muttered under his breath. Like a rotting tide, the mass turned towards them awkwardly, pushing one another to get a look.

"Run," ZB said. "RUN!"

They didn't need a third warning. As one, they turned and ran. Plankie grit his teeth under the weight of his wounded comrade and pushed himself to keep up. The creatures had broken into a mad dash for them, and more continued to pour from behind buildings and around the corner they had come from.*

Wolf ran beside Abyx, trying not to think of his burning limbs or his labored lungs, only of the delapidated dome that patiently awaited in the distance. He estimated two and a half blocks. They were all wounded, exhausted, or both, and even fresh outrunning those things would have been impossible. The monsters didn't tire, didn't feel frustration, didn't give up.*

But they didn't have to outrun them. They just had to make it to the dome. The dome where two men in fatigues stood guard in the distance, watching them run.

Bravo team.

- - -

Pixel stared down the scope of his assault rifle's scope, the 2x magnification showing him his running comrades and the rapidly gaining swarm that followed close behind them. Micah, who stood at the other side of the door, knelt down and shouldered his sniper rifle, taking a bead on the lead creatures.*

"Once they pass the police roadblock there, open fire on the closest targets," Pixel said, voice tense.

"Affirmative," Micah responded, unmoving and slowly breathing. He saw two of them, Mortan and Plankie, stumble and slow. Dastard stopped and took the wounded soldier on his own back and kept running, Plankie in close pursuit. They were twenty feet past the police barricade, filing through the narrow opening in the middle, when the first of the infected scrambled through. Micah took a breath, held it, felt his heart beat and squeezed the trigger. The thing's head exploded, showering skull fragments and steaming pieces of brain over the lined up squad cars. The second and third through the hole received the same. The trickle became a stream at that point, and Pixel opened fire with his bullpup, tracing burst fire through the lead monsters and slowing them down for Micah to pick off.*

Butcher and Macon hit the stairs first, taking them three at a time. Butcher dropped to a knee beside Pixel, drawing his two 9 millimeter pistols and firing on the approaching crowd. Macon turned and stood beside the door, ushering everyone in, his hands clutching his shotgun as his tried to catch his breath.

The infected reached the bottom of the stairs just as Dastard was dragging Mortan through the door. Butcher and Macon fell back through, followed closely by the two Bravos, who dropped their weapons quickly and drew arc welders.*

Wolf saw that they had previously welded large plates of metal to the back of the doors that overlapped when closed. They began to weld them down, sealing the door with layers of metal. They were both only a foot along when the creatures hit the other side, jarring it on its hinges.*

The rest of Bravo was set up amongst the rubble that littered the field, illuminated by the sun that streamed in through the massive hole in the ceiling. Ian stood beside a mounted machine gun that looked rusted and worn, a relic from a previous battle there. The newest Alpha noticed the group of civilians who stood nervously some distance behind the firing lines. He counted twelve heads, men, women and children.*

Gib, Combo and Butcher met at the edge of the field. The rest of Alpha and Charlie stood around, still breathing heavily from the run.*

"Glad to see you guys are ok," Gib said, looking at the two.*

"Luckily, we all made it in one piece. Thank **** for small favors," Butcher said, reloading his pistol clips.

"What happened to you guys?" Combo asked, looking over the civilians. One girl, about 14, met his gaze as she wiped her red eyes with a dirty hand.

Gib shrugged and looked around. "The civilians were waiting here for us when we arrived. Said they had been travelling with you guys and split up. I guess they ran into trouble, but the two who were leading them, some long haired guy and a punk kid, managed to act as a decoy. They got here without a problem," he explained.
 
TL;DR


Just kidding, but this is seriously a VERY long story, but I do intend to read it during my lunch break tomorrow. If its anything like that Killing Floor Story that was about 13 pages long, then Im certain that this will be just as good

It's quite a good reader, very good. I managed to visualize the entire thing. Here's a little bonus you can try, identify the people listed on the squads list board and state their significance and relation to Killing Floor.
 
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well, I read it all, and it was amazing. It was so well done. I actually got sad at the end because I wanted to read more, like hear about fleshpounds or something. As for the roles of the team, and how they could relate to killing floor game, heres my thoughts:

Alpha
1.Butcher - support specialist (used hunting shotgun and combat shotgun)
2.Abyx - Commando, used the bullpup A LOT
3.Lara - The medic, woman, maybe Ash? or the trader
4.Soul - cant think of anything
5.Macon Dead - cant think of anything

Bravo
1.Gib - cant think of anything (maybe demolitions because of name?)
2.Direktor - cant think of anything
3.Ian - cant think of anything
4.Blubber - cant think of anything
5.Pixel - Commando, reference to scoped assualt rifle, used bullpup
6.Micah - sharpshooter (near end, it says how pixel kept the infected at bay so that micah could pick them off one by one, so im thinking he was a sniper)

Delta
1.C.R. Combo - demolitions? (was one of the masked men who warned about land mines AKA pipebombs)
2.Mortan - cant think of anything
3.Plankie - Beserker (had an axe)
4.Vonapier - cant think of anything
5.Zynthetic - Made music for survivors to listen to while killing the infected ;)
6.Dastard - cant think of anything else
 
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I'll take a shot at it:

Alpha
1.Butcher* Some dude from the old KF Forums
2.Abyx* Same Story
3.Lara* Same Story
4.Soul* Same Story
5.Macon Dead Not Sure
6.

Bravo
1.Gib Unknown
2.Direktor Same story
3.Ian Same story
4.Blubber Same story
5.Pixel A well known mapper from the Old KF Forums
6.Micah Unknown

Delta
1.C.R. Combo The guy who made the Infamous Out of Hell mod for UT2004, he was great friends with Alex who also made Killing Floor. His real name is Long Nguyen
2.Mortan Not Sure
3.Plankie Not Sure
4.Vonapier Not Sure
5.Zynthetic Music guy ^^
6.Dastard Old KF Forums dude

As you can see, most of these guys were from the Old KillingFloor Forums and the guy who wrote it decided to include as many people on that listed who related to the mod as possible, including other modders who knew Alex_KF
 
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Well of course I meant for the old KF Forums, and AceUnlimited was, without a doubt, the biggest troll on these forums ever. As far as I know.

Really?

******.

edit: oh WOW. That shows you how much of a troll the person who I mentioned is HIS NAME IS CENSORED ON THESE HERE FORUMS.

Z-b-r-i-s-k

Just to give you a small idea, he bought afaik over 10 copies of the game and was banned on all of them; the saga ended when some TWI staffers hunted him down and called his mother ( yes his mother was called, a very troubled ~16 year old child too ). I have the odd pleasure of actually having played with him on orel tanking before he went full psycho and started being a twit, Im fairly sure his videos are still on youtube. The upside of this is that there is now credibility to the new EULA that says that if you are a total dick, TWI will call your mother...

edit#2, I was sent one of the videos he made via PM once because he recorded a bit of me on mic calling him out for being a tool. It was sad to see how much this guy wanted attention by actually tracking down people ( ok not so hard for my name colt .45 killer which Ive had for over 10 years ) and then sending them videos of the ingame asshattery.
 
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Really?

******.

edit: oh WOW. That shows you how much of a troll the person who I mentioned is HIS NAME IS CENSORED ON THESE HERE FORUMS.

Z-b-r-i-s-k

Just to give you a small idea, he bought afaik over 10 copies of the game and was banned on all of them; the saga ended when some TWI staffers hunted him down and called his mother ( yes his mother was called, a very troubled ~16 year old child too ). I have the odd pleasure of actually having played with him on orel tanking before he went full psycho and started being a twit, Im fairly sure his videos are still on youtube. The upside of this is that there is now credibility to the new EULA that says that if you are a total dick, TWI will call your mother...

edit#2, I was sent one of the videos he made via PM once because he recorded a bit of me on mic calling him out for being a tool. It was sad to see how much this guy wanted attention by actually tracking down people ( ok not so hard for my name colt .45 killer which Ive had for over 10 years ) and then sending them videos of the ingame asshattery.

OMG... I remember him. Holy hell, how did I forget about that guy? I guess Ace will be number 2!! Seriously that dude was the cancer of the internet, worse than 4chan /b/, oh god the fact that I remember and know of his existences makes my stomach turn...
 
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