The idea came to me one day and it wouldn't stop bugging me. So here, a 'lil story from me:

It was a no-man’s land.

The air wreaked with the stench of death, ozone and blood. The ground was muddy, for it had rained, and was blackened and pitted with holes. Some were big and some small, evidence of sporadic bombing and explosions. Corpses were scattered around, pale and unmoving, some of them lacking limbs or sported holes which had bled out. A few crows had come to feast on the cadavers as well, spoils from an earlier conflict. The occasional foxhole, occupied or other wise, were spread throughout the terrain. To the far east lay abandoned piles of sandbags, broken barbed wire, torn netting and other such defensive paraphernalia.

This was what lay before Arvin as he hunkered down in the remains of a derelict bunker on top of a hill. He checked his gear once more, a loaded Semi-Rifle, 5 spare clips of ammunition, 2 grenades, a one-handed pick-axe and a spade. The terrain that lay before the Green sharphooter had once been the Green’s last defensive line. There had been a major offensive here in which the Greens had been pushed back in a vicious attack by the Blue Army, it had been long, brutal and the Greens held up admirably against the Blues despite their lack of support but in the end they had been bested by the Blues and their overwhelming use of accurate artillery fire.

Arvin grimaced as he remembered being told by his Sergeant to pull back along with the remaining members of the platoon. They had been tasked with defending the Western flank and had paid for it in blood. He faintly recalled one of his mates being vaporized by an artillery shell. Almost nothing had been recovered from the body except a few scraps of his uniform and the twisted remains of the man’s dog-tags.

The unlucky soul had once been a Medic for 3rd Squad and was Arvin’s philosopical sparring partner. The two would ramble on and on about things such as Justice, Perspective, Morality until the other members of the platoon had tuned them out but now... the mind which had once brought a fresh breeze to Arvin’s days has forever been silenced.

Arvin’s CO had called on him, by merit of his skills as both a Sharpshooter and a scout, to scour out the area. The platoon had linked up with the rest of the Green batallion and called a devastating return barrage on the Blues just when they had thought that the line was theirs. For half a day, no one dared to even venture near the area, fearing that they’ll lose their lives in a surprise bombardment.

The Green sharpshooter was about to move on until he saw a flash of movement down below. He quickly ducked down and risked taking a peek , he saw 3 outlines walking slowly and moving in a loose skirmish formation. The helmets gave them away as Blue troopers and each one was armed with a different weapon. One with a SMG, another with what looked like a Semi-Rifle just like Arvin’s, and the last one who was guarding the rear came with a Pump – Action Shotgun.

Arvin cursed his luck, the hill had no other concealment apart from the bunker he was in and the fields down below didn’t have much in the way of cover either. If he were to try and sneak past them, he was almost guaranteed to be spotted. Seeing no other alternative, Arvin brought out his Rifle and with quick deliberation aimed it at the one carrying the Rifle. His breathing slowed and he kept his finger floating right beside the trigger, ready to squeeze it at a moment’s notice. He then squeezed the trigger slightly and counted down, One... two...three.

His Rifle gave out a loud “CRACK” as the bullet slammed straight onto the Blue Rifleman’s neck, tearing the jugular vein and causing the unfortunate soul to stumble and collapse backwards while clutching his profusely bleeding neck in vain. The two others ducked behind a rock, not wanting to be killed as well. Arvin then tried to get another bead on the two before the one with the SMG started sending bullets his way. Fuming, Arvin kept his head down as the bullets whizzed above his head; he couldn’t get another shot off without risking getting hit. He considered taking the risk of peeking above the wall before he heard the sound of frantic bootsteps over the gunfire heading up towards the bunker.

That made the decision for him, he couldn’t stay here any longer. He then pondered just how he would take care of whoever was coming for him when his vision came upon one of the grenades on his belt. The bunker was separated into three compartments, one was the entrance which was guarded by a firing port, a small room where ammunition would be stored and the firing step itself. He waited at the entrance until the bootsteps became real close before he primed one of his grenades, letting it cook and then flung it outside. Hearing a few curses, he grinned as the grenade detonated, causing the bunker to shudder slightly. He was expecting, however, that his guest would have taken cover. He then waited for the bootsteps to approach once more before pulling the pin on the second grenade and leaving it at the side of the stairs while rushing inside the small room.

He heard more shouting before the whole bunker shook with the grenade exploding in a loud “BOOM”. The explosion had disoriented Arvin slightly despite being in a different room. He then stepped outside to see the charred and twisted remains of the hapless Trooper, a Shotgun laying twisted a few feet away from the corpse. Impressed at his handiwork, he started walking towards the surface. Just as he breathed the air, he saw the Submachine Gunner lunging at him while brandishing a pickaxe and wearing an expression of pure hatred.

Surprised, Arvin could do little more than grip the wrists of the remaining Blue trooper and resist the madman’s attempts to mutilate him. Panicking, the sharpshooter could see that his opponent was physically more formidable than he was. Seeing no other alternative, he gathered his strength and pushed harder. When his opponent least expected it, he drove his knee hard into the man’s crotch.

tl;dr

AWESOME! LOL GOOD WORK!

Just got back from school.....exactly what i wanna do, read 0.o

And then the blue that got kneed in the crotch throws his pickaxe at Arvin and stabs him directly in the heart and Arvin faints and dies. The end. Blue Master Race.

By the way JosephAllen, Patrick has a suggestion for you.

@ASF: Can't tell if you're serious or being sarcastic, either way... :P

I'd finish the damn thing if my posts weren't blocked somehow by lag. Anyways, I just wanted to do this at a whim. Thanks to anyone who took the trouble to read it.

bro, this is totally kickass. im imagining this in one of those bunkers green likes to build at the top of hills in default maps. and when the blue with the pickaxe comes in, i imagine him swinging it up and down just like and actual player. AWESOME WORK. KEEP IT UP