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A journal, another word for!
A diary.
Ah, if a story you wish.
I never finished this but someone wanted to know what kind of things I write.







“What now Sir?” inquired Nicholas cautiously.
”Well as we no longer have a vehicle I would then assume the best plan would be to walk, unless of course you happen to have a Raven hidden under the nearest rock”, growled Vincent, watching the flames devour the APC’s interior.
”Now would someone like to explain to me just why our transport decided to spontaneously combust?”
”I think a bullet must have managed to pierce the armour and damage the engine, it was pretty fierce back there Sir.”
”Probably... but it’s going nowhere now, take as much ammo as you can carry men and if there’s any left throw it in the fire. No one’s getting shot because my belt wasn’t big enough” Vincent replied, seemingly slightly calmer than before.

As the five COGs gathered what they could, sporadic gunfire could be heard in the distance. Recognising the distinct rattle of lancers streaming bullets through the air brought a rare smile to Vincent’s face and a mumble of “We’re not alone yet…”

”We’re moving now, Ceaser, burn the cast off. Blake, Griffen take point, we’re following the alleys, they’re less exposed”.
The two COGs disappeared down a rubble strewn pathway to the left of the abandoned courtyard the APC had careened into after the flames caused the breaks to fail, their flanks protected on either side by the high crumbling walls of the once prestigious residencies left now to ruin and rodents.
“Hadn’t we better be going now Sir, the black plume of smoke can’t be doing wonders for concealing our position.”
”Of course Nick, Ceaser that better be the last box because we're off. Now!”
While the three stragglers followed the path their comrades had scouted a minute earlier Ceaser spoke for first time since disembarking from the flaming troop carrier.
” Vincent, Sir, why do you two not wear your helmets?”
”It narrows your vision,” interrupted Nicholas.
”And you’ll be lucky if it stops shrapnel, infact take it off, your respirators pissing me off” snapped Vincent, eyeing him up and down, disapproving of the lack of wear on the young COG’s armour. “Damn Rookies” he thought to himself.

As Ceaser removed the helmet he began to doubt the boy was really eighteen as he claimed to be. Even with the COG combat drugs coursing through his veins causing his muscles to grow, bones too thicken and chest showing signs of broadening to accommodate the swelling heart within while it dealt with its new workload. Still a boy though, no complaints however, this being the cost of victory mankind has grown to accept for the slightest chance of surviving.
Up ahead Blake and Griffen were distracted by the mutilated bodies of the two pilots who had previously occupied the crashed raven now blocking the alley. Griffen turned towards the approaching COGS and spoke, voice distorted through his helmet.
”How do you suppose we get over this mess Vincent?”
”We don’t, you follow me around it, through here, quick” Vincent replied, stepping to his right into what appeared to have once been a back yard and exit to a local restaurant, notably with a long dead locust slumped and festering in the corner next to a grime encrusted dumpster.

As he extended his hand to check the door the unmistakable drumming of a hammerburst boomed down the enclosed alley causing Vincent to spin round in a crouch, just in time too see Griffen’s body pirouette as four shots tore through his armour, ending his life his life and cutting any screams silent before they could be born. His body landed down on the floor, his final heart beat expelling nauseating amounts of blood from the grotesque wounds punched into his torso.

Meanwhile Nicholas launched himself forward, pushing the startled Ceaser and Blake onto the concrete floor of the backyard. Vincent slammed himself against the wall while the others recovered blind firing his lancer around the entrance in the general direction of Griffen’s killer and roared “Firing positions!” over the screaming assault rifle in his hands. Nicholas dragged himself and Ceaser up from the ground and together they began to haul the steel dumpster away from the wall while Blake joined Vincent and provided a fresh flood of bullets down towards the locust position while the first lancer was reloaded.

Between the lancer bursts multiple heavy footsteps were thundering down the alley regardless of the hail of flying lead coming to meet them and then a crash came from behind followed by an unfamiliar voice. Still firing Vincent turned his head toward the commotion, spotting a man armed with a gnasher in the previously closed doorway yelling;
”Get the ******** inside ya’ crazy bastards! Now!”
“You heard him, in the building!” Vincent cried but as Blake broke for the entrance a Drone rounded the wall to be met by a solid blast in the chest from the Unknown’s shotgun but not before firing off a burst from the hammerburst at his hip, one of the rounds hitting Blake’s right leg and dropping him to the ground. This prompted Ceaser to break from behind the newly moved dumpster come barricade, rushing forward he seized the fallen COG’s forearm and dragged him over the threshold and into the safety of the building.
Vincent and Nicholas then fell back towards the door still firing at the yards entrance, one of the two dropping a locust in the forehead when it attempted to rush the position knocking him backwards and painting the wall with dark blood and grey matter.

As soon as the two backed into the doorway the Stranded Saviour slammed the door shut and heaved a heavy metal crossbar over the reinforced door, sealing it off from the outside. A troika sounded outside and all four COGs dropped to the ground causing the Stranded to laugh.
“That’s Maria upstairs gunning down everything that moves, now what’re you boys doing taking a stroll all the way out here behind enemy lines?”






User Comments: [2] [add]
Quinncie
Community Member
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commentCommented on: Sat Jan 19, 2008 @ 10:15pm
Lol, you're pretty good~ I ::attempt:: to write stories too~~~ but I normally write only in my free time. So I suck heart


Face it, Harl, this stinks - yer a certified nutso wanted by the las in 2 dozen states - and hopelessly in love with a murderous, psychopathic clown. Harley Quin

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commentCommented on: Sun Feb 17, 2008 @ 03:59am
that is incredibly good. i just love it.



Yinlang Resident
Community Member
User Comments: [2] [add]
 
 
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