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Post by Khornate Marksman on Jan 31, 2007 16:19:26 GMT -5
Note: If you dislike Gore, Ghosts, Curse Words, Violence, and Horror don't read the following story.
Location: Alaska, 2 miles underground
Time: 11:37pm
They ran as fast as they could. Screams of pain and wails of death followed them. Breath misting in the air as they ran. Feet slapping against the cold steel floor in a desperate race for life. White labcoats flailing behind them. Through the dark hallways of the underground base they ran. Around a corner the group went. The elevator to the top floor, and safety, was in site. One of the scientists stumbled. He fell to the floor with a thud. The others looked back and saw that the man was doomed.
A white shape came around the corner. Its huge mouth opened up with a ghastly roar of hunger. The ghost charged towards the fallen man. The other scientists turned and ran, knowing the man was as good as dead.
"Help me!" screamed the fallen man.
The ghost roared again. Before the man could get up, the ghost pounced on him. The scientist cried out in pain as fangs and talons tore his flesh to bloody ribbons. The ghost roared once more, enjoying its meal. The man tried to scream again but a long, sharp talon was shoved through the back of his throat.
The ghost hovered in the air, holding the barely alive scientist. The scientist's stomach had been torn to shreds. Intestines hung like crimson streamers from his gut. A single talon through his throat was all that held him up. The ghost seemed to smile as it dug its other talon tipped hand through the scientist's chest. The scientist began to shake as the life slowly evaporated from his punctured heart and lungs and his blood pooled beneath his hanging body.
The ghost dropped its kill and floated towards the scientist still running down the hall. More ghosts came around the corner, baying for blood. The scientists ran on towards the elevator. Each one of them silently praying that they would make it. The first scientist reached the doors. She pressed the button as fast as she could. Two more caught up with her. The last two were just a few yards away.
"Come on, dammit!" she shouted. "Open up!" The scientists beat their hands on the cold metal of the elevator. The elevator beeped as it opened. The three scientists rejoiced silently as they dove inside. They turned around to see the other two were almost to the elevator.
"Hurry up!" shouted the scientists in the elevator. "Come on, come on!"
The last two scientists were right outside the doors. One of them reached inside to grab another. A ghost flew by with blurring speed. The two scientists were knocked into the shadows by the ghosts. They were gone. All that remained was the severed arm of the one scientist that had reached into the elevator. Clutched in the dead fingers was a gold cross. One of the scientist pressed the close door button. The doors of the elevator began to close.
Time seemed to slow as the doors closed and the ghost neared ever closer. It drove one of its arms through the door towards one of the scientists. The doors closed and the elevator began to rise to the surface. The ghost's arm disappeared into thin air. One of the scientist turned around to see the one the ghost had hit was clutching his chest. He had slid to the floor, leaving a trail of blood and bone matter on the wall from the hole in his body. The scientist coughed as his last breath was exhaled from his body.
The last two scientists looked away, holding back their vomit from the ghastly sight. They were almost to the top floor of the facility. Three more floors.......two.......one......a bone shaking stop.
"What the hell was that?" asked the female scientist to no one in particular.
"Oh god we're stuck!" said the other.
"No! We have to get out of here," said the female scientist. She beat her hands on the doors, yelling for help. A horrifying laugh was heard. She turned around to look at her fellow worker. He was just standing there, laughing like a maniac.
"Bert? What's wrong?" she asked. Bert just stood there, body shaking as blood dripped from his open, cackling mouth.
"No!" screamed the female scientist.
"Oh yes," said Bert in a voice that was not his. He raised his arms. Talons began grow from his fingers. His legs melted away and the rest of his body just floated in midair. His head exploded in a cloud of gore, painting the walls red. A small head formed on top of his shoulders. Yellow eyes and a mouth full of gleaming white fangs replaced Bert's. His clothes and skin slid off his body, leaving red, bulbous flesh behind.
The female scientist fell to the floor. She began to cry as she realized what had happened in front of her. Bert's body had been taken over by a ghost.
"Wh-what....are....you?" she asked.
The ghost laughed. "I am your death, mortal."
The ghost pounced on the scientist like a lion and began to devour her. The scientist's screams were not heard as she was torn limb from limb. Blood and bone matter splattered the walls of the elevator. It was like a steel box of murder.
Throughout Death's Workshop ghosts attacked the workers. Howls and screams filled the cold air as ghost massacred the living like pigs.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Jan 31, 2007 16:37:07 GMT -5
Location: New York City, New York. P.R.D. Headquarters, 2 miles underground.
Time: 4:00am
Deep beneath the bustling city of New York some of the P.R.D.'s most important officials were beginning a meeting. P.R.D. stood for Paranormal Reasearch and Developement. Their main headquarters was located two miles below New York City. In the P.R.D. headquarters meetings were held to determine the next steps of P.R.D.'s goals. That goal, to create an army of supernatural ghost soldiers.
These so-called ghost soldiers would replace the United States of America's army. The ghost soldiers were being created and studied in Area 74 in Alaska, far from the prying eyes of government officials and civilians. The ghost soldeirs were being made from samples of human DNA and coveted ghost DNA from haunted houses,attacks, etc.
Steel doors parted and a man in a tight fitting business suit walked in. His suit was decorated with medals he had earned fighting in wars for his country. Many people would know him as General Rick Fargost of the U.S. army, but here in P.R.D. headquarters he was known as the co-founder of P.R.D.
The original establisher of P.R.D. was an old gentleman by the name of Dr.Hektor Cragorn. He was currently working on the ghost soldiers project in Alaska. No one had heard from him or any of his scientist since last night's horrifying attack.
The scientist had tried to send messages to P.R.D. asking for help, but they were buried in static and all that could be deciphered from them were mumbled words of ghosts escaping and screams of terror. Some roars were heard in the background as the scientist tried to communicate what was going on.
The P.R.D. workers had recieved the messages and tried to understand them, but after failed attempts they decided to use their private sattelite to upload live video recordings from Area 74 onto their computers. What they saw answered all their questions. The ghost soldiers had indeed somehow been freed and were wreaking immense havoc.
The workers shook with fear as video after video showed workers and scientists torn to bloody chunks and massacred by the ghosts. When the workers turned on the audio feed they were even more horrified. Ghostly shrieks and wails blasted from the speakers and cries of pain sent shivers down their spines.
The workers had called all the head officials of the P.R.D. to come at once. Within a few hours everyone was present except Dr.Cragorn who was in Alaska and presumed dead.
The officials met in the conference room in the headquarters. To one side of the conference room was a wall of computer monitors and work stations. Technicians sat at the stations replaying the videos even though it haunted them to their very souls and sent shivers down their spines. They wore headsets so that only they heard the horrifying audio feeds.
On the other side of the room were maps of the two P.R.D. facilities. The maps showed all access ways into and out of the facilities. The exits/entrances on the Area 74 map were marked with red pins. However the ghost had no means of escaping from the base. The pressurized atmosphere in Area 74 made the ghosts as solid as humans, so they couldn't go through walls and escape. That also made them susceptible to weapons fire.
The plan the officials had been discussing was to send in a small army of the P.R.D.'s special forces soldiers. These soldiers had been recruited from special ops trainees in the U.S. army. They had been specially trained and equipped with weapons to combat ghosts. The P.R.D. had prepared for the time when ghosts may escape. The officials hadn't expected the ghosts to escape before the army had been transferred to the barracks in Alaska.
General Rick Fargost walked into the conference room and took his seat at the head of the rectangular table. Seven other officials sat around the table. The seat on Fargost's left was empty. That was his original seat, but because Dr.Cragorn wasn't here he had decided to sit at the head of the table.
Fargost unclasped his briefcase and took his laptop out. He placed it on the smooth obsidian of the table and plugged in a computer interface cable into his laptop. The technicians began to send information to Fargost's laptop as soon as it was linked. Files on all the personnel, as Area 47 and video and audio recordings, were all downloaded in just a few minutes to Fargost's laptop. As he waited for the data to download Fargost began to share his plan.
"For starters, good morning gents," said Fargost, his accent a thick british. The other officials chuckled at his joke and sipped their coffee. The coffee was all that kept them awake this early in the day.
"Ok, funs over. Lets begin, shall we?" said Fargost as he picked up a remote lying on the table and used it to turn on a wall preojector. The blank, back wall of the conference room lit up and displayed files from Fargost's laptop. Fargost scrolled through the hundreds files and found Dr.Cragorn's. A picture of an old man with a long white beard and completely bald, wrinkled head appeared on the wall as Fargost opened the file. Next to the picture was information on Cragorn. His birthday, where he went to school, his parents' names, etc. No piece of information was safe from governments with the right technology.
"This is Dr.Cragorn," began Fargost. "He was at Area 74 hours ago when the attack began. Our technicians found only one video of Cragorn during the attack."
Fargost clicked on another file attached to Cragorn's. A small window popped up and showed Cragorn sitting at his desk in his personal laboratory. He appeared to be jotting down notes. The audio recording began and alarm klaxons were heard. Cragorn shouted something indecipherable and ran to a cabinet behind his desk. He opened it up just as a blurry shape of a ghost flew by the camera and dismantled it. Gunshots and roars from the ghost were heard, but no screams from Cragorn.
"Apparently, Cragorn had a weapon in that cabinet," said Fargost. "He is presumed dead, but because all we heard after the ghost took out the camera was gunshots and the damned thing's roaring, Cragorn may be alive."
"If people did survive the ghosts' in the beginning they must surely be dead by now," said one of officials.
"Not quite Marcus. As we already know the ghosts are as real and solid as us," began Fargost again. "They can't go through any walls unless the artificial atmosphere is somehow removed from Area 74. Any survivors may have reached the food safes. They could lock themselves in and last months on the food supplies and continous air from the vents. I doubt these ghosts are smart enough to hack into computers and open the food safes."
"So, these ghosts are essentially primitive life forms?" asked another official.
"Yes, but they are deadly as you have seen. That is why we must send in our personal army. This will be their first foray into combat."
The officials nodded in agreement. "Commander Luc Horner will lead the troops into Area 74. our men will be equipped with enviroment suits and the new weaponry."
"And what if they fail?" said Marcus.
"There is always a Plan B," said Fargost.
Marcus opened his mouth to ask what Plan B was, but Fargost cut him off.
"Plan B is we launch a nuclear bomb," said Fargost. "I know some civilians cities may get hit by the shockwaves, but we must not let these damn things escape. If the media starts sniffing around we'll have the President say it was a nuclear power plant malfunction."
Once more the officials nodded in agreement. Cities being hit with minor radioactive shockwaves were nothing compared to the ghosts escaping. The damage the ghosts could cause would be overwhelming and there would be no way to track them once they got out.
"Then it is decided," said Fargost. "Our troops will be deployed to Alaska in the next two hours. You all may go back to your beds now."
The officials gathered up there belongings and left without any words said. Rick Fargost packed away his laptop and left the conference room. He walked down the hallways of the P.R.D. headquarters nodding a greeting to acknowledge those he knew. Fargost reached the elevator to the decoy building on the surface and took it up. He stepped out of the elevator doors and walked towards the exit. Fargost left the run-down building and got into his car. He drove to his estate and went right back to bed.
Before he fell asleep he thought of the past few hours and what had happened. In just a few hours soldiers would be sent to Area 74. Fargost knew many of them would be killed and he cared deeply for the men. He had trained many of them himself. Within a half hour of contemplating, Fargost was asleep.
In the next few hours P.R.D.'s army would be deployed to Area 74 and the mission would begin.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Jan 31, 2007 20:12:25 GMT -5
This is awesome hound.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Feb 1, 2007 20:50:47 GMT -5
Time: 6:00am
Location: Alaska, 1 mile from Area 74
Captain Luc Horner sat in the command APC at the head of the convoy. Six APCs followed behind his, each carrying a squad of six men and all their equipment except for one of them. The sixth was a mobile lab station/medical facility. The convoy of APCs had been airdropped an hour ago. The soldiers had all seen the videos and knew perfectly well what they were up against. Every precaution had been taken to insure that they would stand a good chance of survival.
A large complex could be seen over the top of rocky, snow-topped hill. The APC rumbled on over the hill with now problem, steel treads crushing the rocks with ease.
"Stop, now" said Captain Horner into his comm link. The convoy stopped moving instantly. "I want base camp set up here. Squads two and three set up the mobile lab, squads four and five set up the tents. Squad one quarantine the entrance and prepare it for opening."
A mix of replies and orders began on the comm link. Horner got out of the passenger seat at the front of the APC and walked toward the already opened exit in the back. His men were running around completing his orders. The lab station was mow deploying its satellite dish. Inside the computers powered up and the dark room was filled with bluish and reddish lights.
"Gerald, establish a link to headquarters. Tell them we have arrived," said Captain Horner into his com link.
"Right away, sir," replied Gerald. He was in the lab station and activated the satellite dish on top of the APC. Within seconds the link was connected to P.R.D. headquarters.
"Outpost to Headquarters, come in," said Gerald into his headset.
"Headquarters to outpost, reading loud and clear," replied one of the many technicians working at headquarters. "What is the situation."
"We have arrived at Area 74 and are now setting up base camp."
"Acknowledged. Marking your position now. What's the situation down there?"
"We don't know yet. Captain Horner has the soldiers setting up camp and preparing Area 74 to be reopened right now."
"Understood, I'll tell General Fargost immediately," said the technician. "You are to carry on with the plan. Headquarters out."
"Order received. The plan will continue," said Gerald before he took off his headset and replaced his environment suit. The suits were powered by internal heating units very much the same as astronaut suits only these provided moure freedom of movement and weren't as heavy.
Gerald opened the com link on the private channel that only he, Captain Horner, and the other squad leaders used.
"Captain?" he asked.
"Yes, Gerald?" replied Horner.
"HQ has given the sign to continue. Fargost is will be updated on our position."
"Good. Stay in the lab and keep me informed."
"Yes sir," said Gerald as he walked back to the lab station. Truthfully he was glad he was the one who ran the lab. He would rather stay in a heated vehicle than be stuck out in the cold freezing his ass off.
Gerald closed the door behind him as he entered and sat down next to the members of his squad that worked in the lab. Privates Lanson and Wegnar sat at their computers monitoring the other squads' lifesigns and the progress of the camp. Each of the soldiers had been outfitted with a computer chip in their head that would instantly project the soldiers' lifesigns onto a specially designed program the P.R.D. had on their computers.
The chips also told if the soldiers had been infected in anyway with diseases, or worse; ghosts. P.R.D. had various kinds of ghost soldiers made to combat the U.S.'s enemies. Most would be used as frontline soldeirs, but there was a fewer number that could take over a human's body and control it.
An hour later the camp was set up. Equipment from the APCs had been placed in the tents and the entrance to Area 74 was covered by a foldable steel walling. Once the soldiers stepped inside the walls would seal shut like an airlock, keeping the atmosphere in Death' Workshop from being vacated out.
Captain Luc Horner sat in his tent discussing battle plans with the leaders of the squads.
"Mitchell, your squad will be the first in. You'll scout the first floor and report back on what you find," said Horner as he marked spots on a map of Area 74 laid out on his table. The floors of the tent were covered with lightweight aluminum that kept the heat in and cold out. Each tent was vacuum sealed once it was up.
The leaders stood around the table, dressed fully in their environment suits. Their helmets were removed and tucked beneath their arms. Their weapons were holstered on their backs and at their hips.
"Mitchell take your squad and go now," said Horner. "Update me on anything you encounter. Gerald the other members of your squad will accompany his. The rest of you will have your squads on guard duty. I want three men inside the quarantine walls and two on the outside. Understood?"
"Yes sir!" yelled the squad leaders as they put their helmets back on and walked out into the harsh weather ouside. A snowstorm had started and the winds were rocking the tents, threatening to pull their ropes from the ground and carry them off.
Captain Horner ran to Gerald's APC and climbed inside. He sat down next to Gerald and pulled his comm link from the inside of his helmet and placed it in his ear. The six members of Michell's squad which was number two and the three other members of Gerald's were already inside the quarantine walls.
They drew their weapons and did a last check to make sure they were operationable. Mitchell entered a number sequence on a panel next to the door to Area 74. The console beeped and the words code correct flashed across the screen in a bright, green light. The steel plated door rushed upwards and the soldiers felt a cold wind escape as they entered Area 74.
"Activate night vision," said Mitchell over the comm. The squads did as they were told and everything inside lit up in shades of green. They were in a large entry hallway. Farther down they could see the elevator that would take them to the lower levels. They walked in formation with complete silence, looking left and right for any ghosts. They entered a large room with many exits that lead to other parts of the floor.
As soon as they entered a chorus of howls and roars began. Gray shapes fluttered pst in the shadows. The soldiers lined up in a tight circle and aimed their guns at the hallways leading from the room.
More howls and blood curdling screams joined the others. It was like a chorus of the damned. Grey and white shapes could been seen flying through the shadows, only appearing in the lighter spots for split seconds.
"Captain Horner," said Mitchell. "We have encountered some ghosts."
"Permission to en-," began Horner, but the comm link erupted in static so loud he had to pull his earpiece from his ear.
"Captain? Damn the link is dead," said Mitchell. "Alright men. This is what we were trained for. Give 'em hell."
A trio of bloated, sickly bulbous ghosts flew down one corridor at the soldiers. The squads opened fire and the ghosts exploded in clouds of gore, releasing a dark cloud of smoke that was impossible to see more than a few feet through even with nightvision.
"Oh f*** me," said Mitchell as he realized they were fighting blind now.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Feb 2, 2007 16:30:30 GMT -5
Updated...... ;D
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Post by Dagothkitty on Feb 2, 2007 17:29:30 GMT -5
Nice. Kind of reminds me of doom. I like the scenario, that's for sure. Great work. There was a little mispellings here and there, but other then that, it was great.
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Post by Maliku on Feb 3, 2007 0:34:12 GMT -5
The ending was great Hound. I can see me enjoying this story.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Feb 10, 2007 18:26:10 GMT -5
Howls and bloodcurdling roars filled the hallways. The ghosts were coming. Talons scraped against walls as the ghosts roamed the hallways towards the soldiers position. the soldiers stood in the center of the large room, guns covering the hallways on all sides. The smoke made seeing down the hallways for approaching ghosts impossible. Mitchell and his men could only see a few feet in front of themselves. They wouldn't see the ghosts until they were right in front with teeth bared.
"Fall back to the exit!" shouted Mitchell through his vox projector in his helmet. The comms were filled with static because of the smoke. That smoke was designed to blind enemies and render their communication equipment useless, leaving perfect opportunity for ghost soldiers to come in and slaughter them. Michell's squad and the three from Gerald's moved back to the exit hallway, assault rifles sweeping left and right for any signs of movement.
Private Deagan turned to walk into the hallway leading to the exit, but froze in fear. A small group of ghosts filled the hallway. Deagan raised his rifle quickly and fired a twenty round burst into the ghost in front of him. Black blood and chunks of flesh splattered the walls and floor as Deagan fired at the ghost. It fell with a roar of pain and slowly dissolved away after dying. The other ghost soldiers saw the soldier and roared, white teeth gleaming in the dim light. They raised their talon tipped arms and flew towards Deagan.
He fired the last ten rounds of his gun at one of the ghosts, turning its head into a pile of black gore. The body fell to the ground with a loud thump. Deagan tried to reload his gun, but dropped the clip. Mitchell turned in time to see Deagan sheared clean in two by the ghosts. One grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up while the other grabbed his legs and continued down the hallway. Blood exploded everywhere as Deagan was bisected.
Mitchell opened fire on the ghost that grabbed Deagan's lower body. Bullets punched through it chest, leaving big, bloody exit wounds. The ghost fell to the ground, letting go of its grisly trophy. The bloodied legs slid across the ground and stopped in front of Mitchell.
"Man down!" he yelled. "Regroup and fall back to the exit! Now!"
At that moment the ghosts made their move. They swooped in from the hallways howling like the damned. Mitchell and his men fired through the smoke, hoping they hit something. Because the ghosts were extremely cold-blooded, heat sensing vision wouldn't do any good. Mitchell ran for the exit. He fired at any ghosts that came through the smoke in front of him. One ghost appeared with many spikes protruding from where its hand should have been.
It pointed its arm at Mitchell and the spikes shot towards him. The soldier rolled out of the way and got to his feet, gun aimed at the ghost. Hot pain surged up his arm as he realized one of the spike projectiles had scraped his shoulder. Mitchell ignored the pain as best he could and fired at the ghosts, blowing its arm off and caving its face in. Blood pooled beneath the ghost as it died, but it also dissolved away, leaving no trace. Apparently the scientists had made the ghost so that they completely dissolved if they die. That way the enemy couldn't take a sample and create their own army.
Mitchell reached the hallway and turned around. Most of his squad was still fighting their way out of the smoke. They had lost all sense of direction in the smoke cloud. Mitchell glanced down at his radar system on his wrist. It too was being jammed by the smoke. The screen only showed white. Confused and disoriented, the soldiers would be massacred. Mitchell gritted his teeth and headed back into the smoke. He ran to where his men had been standing before the attack and saw three corpses. Two were from Gerald's squad and one was from his. The soldiers were missing limbs and had many bloody gashes from the talons of the ghosts.
Gunfire could be heard from the remaining three men. Mitchell headed toward the sound and found his men and Gerald's taking cover behind a stack of large crates. Several ghosts were dissolving away a few feet from the crates.
"Any wounded?" asked Mitchell as he climbed over the hastily built barricade.
"Hofner's leg is broken, sir," replied Gaston. Gaston was part of Gerald's squad. "One of the f***ing bastards blindsided him as we took cover. Fode and I took it down before it tore his head off."
"Good job soldier," said Mitchell. He stepped over to where Hofner lay clutching his leg. Fode was right beside him tying a strip of medical bandage around Hofner's leg to cut off the blood flow. Mitchell could see part of a bone poking through the environment suit.
"How is he?" asked Mitchell.
"Not good, sir. He's lost a lot of blood," said Fode.
"Sir! They're coming back!" yelled Gaston. He was standing behind the boxes firing at the ghosts.
"Get down!" yelled Mitchell, but Gaston didn't hear him. A ghost flew towards Gaston from his left. The soldier turned to see a faceful of talons inches away from his face. He had no time to react as the ghost shoved its talons through Gaston's head and tore most of it off. Blood and bone matter splashed everywhere as Gaston's corpse fell to the ground. The ghosts just kept on coming. They were made to keep on fighting. It didn't matter if some of them died. The ghost soldiers couldn't become scared or frightened.
"Shit!" yelled Mitchell as more ghosts flew over the barricade. He grabbed his rifle and fired at them. Three ghosts fell from bullets to their heads, but more came. Fode grabbed his shotgun and pumped shells into the encroaching ghosts. Every shot punched a large hole into the ghost soldiers. One tried to bite Fode. He shoved the barrel of his gun into its mouth and pulled the trigger, blowing the ghost's whole head off in an explosion of bloody gore.
"Move! Now!" ordered Mitchell as he wrapped one of Hofner's arms around his shoulder and picked him up. "Fode, cover our retreat."
"Yes sir!" yelled Fode as they moved towards the exit. Hofner mumbled as he was carried, clearly dislusional from blood loss. Mitchell slowly moved across the big room to the exit hallway. He half dragged, half carried Hofner across the room, only stopping to fire at the ghosts that were following one handed. Fode was close behind firing his shotgun. A ghost flew down aiming to gut Mitchell. The soldier unloaded the rest of his clip into the ghost's gaping jaws. The ghost reeled back as its throat filled blood and it slowly choked to death. Mitchell paused to quickly reload his rifle. Another ghost flew at his head. Mitchell turned at the last moment and presented his rifle to the ghost's face. The ghost's face filled with lead in seconds. Black blood spattered on Mitcell's and Hofner's suits, but evaporated soon after.
They made it to the exit hallway with a numerous amount of ghosts following them. Mitchell reached the airlock while still Hofner and entered the code to open it. He vowed to never leave a fellow soldier behind. So far that vow had not been broken. The computer pad beeped once and the doors parted. Mitchell placed Hofner in the airlock and turned around. Fode was halfway down the hallway reloading his shotgun. A large ghost with multiple, spider like arms tipped with blades was right behind him. The ghost raised its arms up to cut Fode to pieces.
"Fode! Duck!" yelled Mitchell as loud as he could. This time his soldier heard him and Fode threw himself flat to the ground. The ghost flew right over Fode, presenting its backside to him. Fode got to his knees and fired three rounds point blank into the ghost's back. It bursts into bloody chunks from the explosive shells. Fode got up and ran as fast as he could to the airlock. He spun around to fire at the closest ghosts with his shotgun. Two dropped to the floor with limbs and their heads missing. Ghosts were still behind him, howling for blood. Fode made it inside and Mitchell slammed his hand on the close door button.
The door leading outside opened and Captain Horner stood there with his and two other squads with their guns raised. They holstered them as they saw Mitchell and his men exit the airlock.
"What the hell happened in there?" asked Horner.
"Sir, Hofner's badly injured. He needs a medic," said Mitchell as he laid the man in the snow. Two soldiers wearing the medic patch on their suits rushed over with a stretcher and loaded Hofner on. They took him to the medic tent where his wounds would be treated.
"Where are the rest of your men?" asked Horner.
"Dead. They're all dead. The ghosts tore them all to pieces. We killed three at first and they released some kind of smoke that scrambled comms. It was too thick for nightvision to see through. After that the ghosts just swarmed all over us. We didn't see them coming," said Mitchell. He fell to his knees as the wound in shoulder began to burn with white hot pain.
"Medic!" yelled Horner. "Get a medic over here now!" Mitchell closed his eyes. He felt himself going numb. His only thought was Am I dying? Mitchell blacked out as the medics arrived once again. He was loaded onto the stretcher and carried off.
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Post by RareCarpet on Feb 10, 2007 20:22:36 GMT -5
Wow.....wish I could write that much and have it still coherent and good. I give ye a 5....out of 5
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Post by Maliku on Feb 11, 2007 0:13:58 GMT -5
This story is f****** amazing.
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Umaril
Rookie
[M:0]
Posts: 1,045
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Post by Umaril on Feb 11, 2007 7:55:57 GMT -5
Indeed it is. It's deadly.
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Raistlin
Beginner
I'm tired.
Posts: 2,451
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Post by Raistlin on Feb 11, 2007 8:10:10 GMT -5
Wow, Hound, this story is wicked intense.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Feb 12, 2007 19:18:48 GMT -5
I bet that Mitchell is going to become a ghost/human and beat the crap out of the ghosts. I think it's great hound, lots of gore. The scientists made it so that the ghosts could dissolve back but they couldn't prevent them from taking harm from lead? A little strange, but it's not bad at all. Great job.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Feb 12, 2007 19:27:24 GMT -5
I bet that Mitchell is going to become a ghost/human and beat the crap out of the ghosts. I think it's great hound, lots of gore. The scientists made it so that the ghosts could dissolve back but they couldn't prevent them from taking harm from lead? A little strange, but it's not bad at all. Great job. It's a fail safe. The scientists enhanced the atmosphere in Area 74 so the ghosts couldn't turn translucent and become immune to gunfire. They did that so the ghosts could be killed if they ever got free before the Scientists developed a way to keep the ghosts under control. Without the atmosphere the ghosts would be able to change from solid to translucent at will. The dissolving thing makes it so that nothing of the ghost remains. That keeps the enemy from taking a sample and making their own army.
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Post by Dagothkitty on Feb 12, 2007 19:30:58 GMT -5
That is shrewd. I see now.
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