The Abyss :First Few Parts

[Souleater]

The Abyss




January 14, 2012

It was cold. The air hung with a heavy stagnation. Death. It was the smell of death in the air. The smell seaped into your brain and left you with nothing more than a dark urge. I’ve felt it many times before. And even now as I remember, it is coming back to me. The urge is overwhelming. My blood burns, by soul sears just at the thought. I have to kill. I need to kill.
The urge was overpowering me. I wanted to resist, but there is a part of my soul that wants to kill. This virus is just a driving force behind it that is bringing it out in me.
Once the world was exposed to the Titan Virus, everything changed. I can’t explain it. People started dying. . .people started killing. Society fell all around us. The streets ran red with blood, and our hearts, our very souls were sunk into a dark abyss.
I was in the military. A test subject for a “Super Soldier” experiment. Unlike the crap shown in movies and on TV, it didn’t drive the 5 of us crazy, or blood thirsty. We reacted as was foreseen. Powerful, exact. The perfect warriors. When the experiments were cancelled, the 5 of us were let loose on humanity. We fought for what was right. . .for as long as we could. Two of the 5 died after being discharged. The experiments had a side-effect on those two. A massive influx of adrenaline into an already over-pumped system. Their hearts were weakened, and they died. Sad. That left the 3 of us. One of us, under the name of EXP. #2-11-A5, Col. Packen, US Navy, has been M.I.A. for years. Not even the Special Forces of the entire world’s military cannot find him. He is, for all intents and purposes, dead.
The only ones left are myself, SSGT. Natas, USMC, and SFC. Jenkins, US Army. I have fallen from on high and have resorted to roaming the streets of darkness. Nothingness is my only resort. SFC. Jenkins has risen to power. He is head executive officer of the most powerful corporation in the world, Tri-Flow Genetics Corp. Ironic. A creation of a genetics experiment running the experiments.
In 2oo8, Jenkins created a Virus. It was known as Abyss. It was the ultimate cure to any ailment. The side-effects were catastrophic. All of the patients treated with Abyss died. However they didn’t stay that way for long. Soon the streets were littered with the dead. But litter always gets up now.
I was treated with the Abyss in early 2011. Due to the experimentation that took place on my genes it didn’t effect me like everyone else. I just became more violent. When the Abyss takes over my body, I get the urge to kill. I need to.
It was not the usual type of day. It ws silent. Almost peaceful. It was calm today. It made me paranoid. The roads were still coated with blood. This time a fresh layer. It almost makes me wonder, how many survivors are left that haven’t been turned into flesh munching moving targets.
I never got attacked any more. Due to the virus being in my system, I was off their radar until I felt like putting some lead sleeping pills into them.
I was walking. It was becoming a quiet that it shouldn’t be. It was dead silent, not even a breeze of wind to rustle the leaves on the balding trees. Over 15 years this virus has plagued mankind. It never ends. The blood is always fresh. I started to hear the patter of feet on the concrete. A shadow flew between the buildings and disapeared just as fast as it came. My rifle was at the ready. I could feel that familiar pumping of blood in my brain. My heart slowing as my battle instincts took over. I racked it back. Chambered a round. And waited.
Shambling, staggering down the dark corridor came one of the dead. Barely any flesh and tissue left. Gender undiscernable. The scraps and shreds of clothing barely there. Bones and blood. This was all that allowed fo this pathetic sight to be shown as what it was. I held my breath. Took my aim and began to line my sights. Slow…steady. BANG. The body falls to the ground with a sickening thud onto the pavement. Hundreds of footbeats. I had not expected that. I started running as fast as I could. My lungs started to hurt within seconds of running. The Titan injections kicked in. My heart pumped faster. I could feel the blood inside of me rushing through my veins.
I tore through that wall holding me back. I felt like I was ripping through time and space. I stopped. Look left. Look right. A building. Interesting. It had one door and no windows and a balcony. It seems perfect for some rifle training. I flung open the door, slammed it shut and pushed everything I could in front of the entrance. Hoping that it was well shut I tore up the winding spiral stair case and found one room. The room had a single balcony large enough for one person to stand in and enjoy the view. My intent was a little different than that.
I closed the door and moved the bed and book case in front of the door. I walked on to the balcony and racked by back my rifle. Sitting on a chair I surveyed the scene. Open streets. Shadows moving fast and violently. I set down my pack and took out a few magazines. All fully loaded. Grenades next to the magazines. And I waited. A creak. My mind raced as my head snapped to the rear. Nothing. Paranoia is a terrible thing in these kind of situations.
This time I ignored the creak. It was my mistake. Powerful arms swung around my neck lifting me from my seat, cutting off my oxygen, the smell of blood and degrading flesh seaped from my attacker’s mouth. I struggled for a moment and stumbled trying to retreive my assault knife from my leg holster. I managed to grab the handle as I struggled to suck air into my deprived lungs. I shoved the knife as hard as I could into the eye of the undead that was attacking me. A cry of pain and it fell to the floor. Writhing it climbs back to his feet. I swing a kick into the side of the head of the undead , flooring him. Pulling a pistol from the carrier on my belt, I press the barrel to the forehead and cock back the hammer. A gutteral growl was the last thing this pitiful thing would ever utter. I fired off a while clip into its head. “Still want to attack me bitch?” I whisper to my finally dead attacker. I search around the room with my eyes to see where this thing was hiding. The closet. I probably should have guessed.
I walk back over to the balcony and lift my rifle back to my shoulder. I look over the edge and see at least 10 of the undead at the base of the building. Scraping at the door, pleading for entrance and access to their next meal. I had to deny them.
I aimed in on the top of the head of the largest one and fire. The dead dropped to the ground, and the others pulled back. The lone one left standing screeched something to the others. They were communicating? This is a greatly disturbing development. They moved tactically through the small openings, moving closer to the building. Out of my range. I could only hear them dragging closer to the building. This was working out like shit. I don’t know how hard this is gonna get. I could hear the door beneath me splintering and breaking. A panic arose in me that I have experienced time and time again. It made me feel alive. I walked into a corner, racked my rifle back, and waited.
I could here them running up the stairs and break into each room. Leaving each room. They came closer and closer to me. I could almost smell the death through the door. It was sickening. I love it. They came closer. Banging at my door told me that they were right outside. I aimed at about where head level would be, I squeezed the trigger back and felt the round leave the chamber. A clean shot through the door, and a screech. They had seen what had happened. All together they started to bang on the door. Splintering the wood. Damn it. I set my rifle down, and reached into my bag for a P90. Aiming down the sights of this weapon brought me back to the days of the War. I pulled the trigger, and the rounds exploded from the barrel of my weapon and pierced through the door sending wood and blood in every direction. My reload time took less then 10 seconds. And even that was almost too slow. The undead were pouring in from the door, clawing and scraping to get to my flesh and blood. But my rounds perforated their ambitions.
The bodies fell to the floor in a heap on the ground. The little that was left of their blood trickling onto the ground. I walked tentively over to the bodies. Weapon still at the ready. I popped the corner and walked slowly down the hall way. Making my way back down the spiral staircase. There was something near. I could sense it. I walked down the last few steps and towards the destroyed door. A stray dead walked past, and in surprise I shot him in the chest. Walking up to the downed body, I let a few more rounds into his head. The small spray of blood and the kick back of the blood into my face told me that he was finally dead.
I walked tenatively. There was an even bigger threat nearby. Something much more powerful. CRASH. A dumpster comes flying from inbetween the buildings. Paniced human screams. Survivors! I need to help them, but even as the thought entered my mind, their screams were silenced with a sickening sound of bones breakings. I dashed to the side of a nearby building, P90 ready to fire. At the ready. And slowly from inbetween the buildins sloths a monster of like something that I have never seen before. Ten foot tall, girth the size of the dumpsters that he threw from the alleymouth. An undead commander. Not a good thing. This was not like the usual undead. It was controlled by a human at Tri-Flow headquarters. This was the worst possible thing to have come down my alley way.
I popped the corner and let a few rounds splatter into the body of the undead. It did nothing except put the beast onto my trail. I ran from corner to corner, firing a small round burst as I went. It seems like nothing will be able to take this monstrocity down.
I was getting close to the terminal that I knew was on the back of every undead commander. All I had to do was get to that little box and it would drop dead. I snuck slowly behind the beast. . .just a little closer. But there was no box! There was nothing except the rotting flesh hanging from the spine of this monstrous entity.
“What the fuck. . .?” I whispered in my own conscious, “ How the fuck am I supposed to take something like this down? Its been completely redesigned. . .” just at that thought the Commander turned and swung a trunklike arm and mountain sized fist in my direction. The pain was sickening when I hit the wall. I felt a rib break and tear through the thin layer of skin that kept them inside. It felt like I was already dead. Blood was seaping out of my wound, but the Titan injections slowly began to repair my injury. Soon I felt the bone crack back into place. I staggered trying to get up, although my bones were healed, the pain never leaves. I stumbled trying to get over to the next building. I narrowly missed getting hit by another fist. The wall it connected with exploded into dust.
“Fuck my life. . .” I whisper. There seems to be no weakness anymore. Which if there isnt, then I’m fucked.
I pulled a grenade from my pouch. The pin came out easy, the lever, released. It was almost easy to hold it. Just like praying. I jump from my hiding spot onto the back of the commander, I take out my knife and cut a small hole, just big enough for a jug of water and just about 4 inches deep. I shoved the grenade into the hole, and jumped off, running for my life. The explosion sent blood and body parts everywhere. Entrails splattered the walls as I rose to my feet.
“Fuck. . .” My ribs felt like they were healing slower then they used to. It is not a good feeling. This felt like the Titan was wearing off, and the Abyss was taking a stronger effect. The adrenaline flowed slower this time, but it made it more intense. My blood felt thick, my body felt heavy. I knew I was close to dying, for the first time since the injections, I was close to dying. Although the injuries were not many, they were severe. “Those Commanders are getting stronger. They sure don’t make them like they used to, and that’s not a good thing.” Sighing, I heaved myself to my feet and started to walk away.







March 16, 2012
The morning was warm. It was finally starting to get to spring, or maybe its because I have been moving south for so long. Either way, the heat was good. It gave a different sensation than the freezing cold. North Carolina is generally nice this time of the year. Its getting warmer, the girls are coming out. Only now, its getting warmer, but only the dead legions come out. They have become more organized. They are no longer desentient beings, they think. They communicate, and most dangerous of all, they attack in hordes.
Ammo has been running low for a few weeks. I walked past a small mound of snow and kicked the top part off, but underneath, not more snow, but the body of a young girl. She couldn’t have been more than 8 years old. And now she is laying on the side of the road, bullet hole in her head, bites from the undead on her neck. A mercy killing. But it never chills you any less. I remember my platoon commander telling me when we walked into a Kuwaiti emergency room, “Staff Seargent, always remember this. Its not a good thing to get used to this kinda thing. Its when you do get used to it, that’s when you’re really in trouble.”
I could do nothing for the girl. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. But soon, all of the innocent will be avenged. I will bring their souls peace, and their deaths, vengeance. I walked with a little more of a speed now. It was getting dark, and the Dead walked at night more. Its one of their tactics. Low light, low visibilty of the target. That was always a lesson it took years to make Marines understand it and perform perfectly, but they learned it in a very short time. Its disturbing. And it makes it much more of a challenge for us to overcome.
I found a small building. It was boarded up and looked like it was recently attacked. If there is one thing these Dead don’t understand yet, its always perfrom at least two sweeps of an area. I should be safe for the night. I curled up into a ball in the corner of a closet in the master bedroom. Rifle and sidearm in my hand or at least in easy proximity to me. I fell into a nightmare filled night of sleep.
I flashed back. It was 2oo2, my convoy was just ambushed outside of Kandahar and two of my Marines had their legs blown off. I was providing cover fire while I tried to get them to safety. Their bodies writhing in pain and agony. SFC. Jenkins came down from the crows nest on the tank and examined the bodies of my wounded men. He examined their legs, blood covered his hand within a half-second. “These men are going to die Staff Seargent. Their survival rate is less than 10%. But one day. One day all of our fallen comrades will rise from the dead and be with us once more.” My eyes could not remove themselves from his gaze. His eyes were yellow. Nothing human behind those eyes. . . only something. . .evil.
I snapped out of my memories and back to reality. A creaking noise from below me. . .there is no way they are sweeping again. I slowly opened the doors of the closet and walked carefully to the door, and walked to the stairs. I peered over the edge, there were survivors. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I shouted, “Halt. Are you survi-“ and a bullet punctured my chest sending waves of pain crashing over my body. I fell to the floor and saw 2 people run up the stairs to where I lay. Looking down into my face was a young woman of about 20 and a young man of about 19. I can’t believe that these little fucks just shot me.
“I-Is he dead?” the girl asked.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” snapped the boy. I felt my blood ooze from my body. My wounds stitched together, and my body felt that surge of adrenaline. The darkness took over, but I was still alive.
Lucky me.





March 17, 2012
I woke with start. I made it throught the night. Given I was shot by a punk-ass teenager, but I made it. I walked down the steps, a small stream of my blood had seaped down the sides of the stairs. I walked into the living room and into the small, ineptly equipped kitchen. There was a large freezer that looked like it had turned into a sauna. I think I should have reassesed my sleeping arrangments. I slowly opened the door, and a shotgun fired and made the whole door vibrate. “D-D-Don’t come in here! I swear I’ll shoot you!”
“A little late for that one dumbass. You have good aim, but I’m going to say this, if you ever shoot me again, I will kill you.” I said as I walked into the freezer. The kids drew closer together, terrified of what they saw. They obviousl thought that any person that got shot with a 10mm slug in the head and chest would die. Well, I was glad to see their little bubble pop as walked into the room. “My name is SSGT. Natas. I am going to be your savior. Let me explain something to you. You don’t shoot if it talks and its not a screech, and its in a language you obviously understand. Are you fucking retarted? Have you ever heard a zombie articulate words more intelligent then a loud parrot sounding screeching noise?”
“S-S-Sir, I’m sorry, but it was reaction, and I didn’t want my sister to get hurt. Shes all that I have left.” He explained. I looked down and noticed that the two of them were naked. “Uh, why the fuck are you two naked together. Under the same blanket?”
I think that my question caught them off-guard. The female was so shocked for a second that part of the blanket slipped and exposed her breasts. She quickly corrected the problem. “We-Well, uh. . .uhm. . .sir, we just um. . .we….ah, w-we uh…” his sister cuts across, “We fuck. Its no big deal. We both have needs, and we’ve always been close, so its just to make sure we both stay happy. And sane.”
I felt like just walking away. I could not believe what was going on here. “Ok, let me say this, if you two are fucking each other or not, I don’t really care, but you need to be safe. So, I’m going to do you a favor.” I dropped 5 grenades and a few shotgun shells into his lap. “And buddy let me say this, pull out, don’t get you goddamn sister pregnant.” I walked away wondering what fucking luck I have. I’m the only super soldier alive that gets shot by an incest loving brother and sister in an abandoned house in North Carolina. Go figure.
I walked down the road. A few miles from the abandoned house was a school. And generally I stay away from schools or any place like that. I can’t help myself now. I need to find some one to talk to, that is preferably not myself. I’m trained to be alone with no one around, but I just need someone to talk to.
I walked through the front door. It was just like when I was in elementary school. A vision of myself, Jenkins, Packen flashed through my head. The three of us, childhood friends, but that is all but the past. I quickly put the thoughts from my mind. I walked down the halls, reliving my time in school as a little kid. The teachers, the playground, the friendship. And of course all of the girls once I got a little older. Packen, Jenkins and myself ran everything in school. We were the highest seats in the student government, all of us on the football team and baseball team. We were super stars in my school.
It felt good to reminisce a little bit. But it had to be short lived. I heard a rustling. And what was even more shocking, crying. I slowly walked to the room where the crying came from. I peered through the window and saw a little girl sitting in a puddle of blood. I threw open the door, but kept my distance from her. “Are you alright little girl?” was my ignorance taking control of me? I reached for her shoulder, and place a hand on her shoulder . . . she turned to me and started to cry even harder, she screamed and crawled away. “What’s wrong?” as I finished my question something heavy and hard hit me in the back of my head. I felt the crack of my skull healing instantly. The Titan started to react to something . . . I was getting stronger. I was fighting back, and then I looked over at the little girl. A vile smile playing on her face. I knew what she was at that moment. I struck the Dead to the ground and crushed his skull with a foot stomp. I turned to the girl and she was not there. I started to do something I have never done in my life. Panic. It set in like a cold knife, chilling my spine, making my bones shake.
Her speed outranked mine severely. It hurt to witness such power. I was lifted from the ground by my neck. This was no prototype, this was a true hunter. The strength showed this. I began to feel light headed, and I slipped into a cocoon of darkness, into a finally dreamless state.



















April 1, 2012
How long it has been since the hunter captured me, I do not know. But it has been too long. I was taken to a captivity plant in Maryland, this particular plant was for the more dangerous of the fugitives branded for capture and termination by Tri-Flow. I looked around me. The captives were breaking. More of them every day would snap and kill themselves. For as much a termination plant that this was, it was more like a self-termination plant. No one was killed here, they only killed themselves. I was staying strong. Most of the people here are just civilians that led other biogenetics companies. I was the only super soldier here.
It was almost 1400, the Hunters would come to my cell, and drag me to an interrogation room around this time every day. The Hunters are the most dangerous creation from Tri-Flow today. It hunts everything it is ordered to do by Tri-Flow headquarters. My scent was the only one ordered for months now.
“Let’s go Natas. You know what time it is.” The Hunter for me was a particular piece of work. Let me just say that. They tracked my scent, knew where I was going to go, and knew I would have feelings and try to help a young girl to safety. I felt stupid for just thinking about what I did. I was careless.
The clamps attached to my arms sent 1oo,ooo volts through my body. But, oddly, it stopped hurting. They noticed. I faked a wince, but they cranked it even higher. Over 1,ooo,ooo million volts surged through my body. This was agony. I bit back a scream. I had to. I would fight until they could actually kill me.
“Tell you what Max, I’ll tell you a little secret, if you just tell me what I want, I can just kill you and let you free!” maniacal laughter followed Callous’ comment. She might be a machine, but like any other woman, she thought she was hilarious.
“Tell you what sugar-tits, you just let me go and I won’t kill you as violently. I promise, it will be fast, you have my word.” I grunted to Callous.
“Hmmm. How can I resist a challenge like that? Oh, right, because I’m a fucking Hunter, that’s how.” She laughed and slashed me across my chest with her blades. My wounds pulsed and healed. My healing powers were getting stronger. A fortunate little effect. My strength returned to me. I felt a massive surge of energy as 1o,ooo,ooo volts rushed through my body. Ironic, I know.
I struggled against my bindings, and felt the restraints buckle and break under my force. I broke one hand free and grabbed the nurse by the neck and squeezed until I felt the bones of her neck break beneath my fingers. Leaping from the table I grabbed Callous around her machine body and whispered, “Cmon baby, just one more time, for old time’s sake.” I attached the 1o million volts to her skull and jacked it up to the maximum voltage, 10 billion volts. She started to short circuit as she made a grab at me. A small pail of water was her final song. Stepping into the water, those 1o billion volts was amplified, and Callous was nothing more than fried.
I slipped into the air-duct and shimmied to the cell next to mine. A young woman named Ann was sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth, but her face lit up when she saw me in the duct. “Max!” she exclaimed, “Are we finally getting out of here?”
“’Course we are. I told you I would get you out of here, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but I never believed it. I thought we were going to die here,” she said as she climbed up to the vent and lifted herself in, “I guess I have to keep my promise too don’t i?”
“Oh yeah. You’re not getting out of that.” I gave her that very knowing look. She blushed and turned away. We crawled along the vent for who knows how long. Every few feet a view from hell met our eyes. A young man, being burned, a young woman being slowly cut, a child being beaten. The sights gave me pain to even witness. Evil like this is intolerable.
Ann did everything she could to ignore it. I could hear her terrified humming from in front of me. We finally saw day light. I kicked the vent door off its hinges and we crawled to the edge and jumped 50 feet to the ground. I landed on my feet and told Ann to jump and that I would catch her. She jumped and a small scream escaped her lips and ended the second she landed in my arms. Our eyes met and I asked her, “You do remember your end of the deal right?” I enquired with a sly smile.
“Of course I do. And I told you I would do it willingly.” She said, slightly exhausted. “Are you sure? You can never turn back if we do this.”
“I’m not the one that needed convincing if you remember Ann. Just remember this. My name is Max Natas, and your son’s name will be the same thing.” I said with a smile. And Ann said, “You know, if I wasn’t pregnant I would fuck your brains out. But thank you for saving my baby. I will be eternally grateful.” And Ann left. Slowly at first but she got into a car and hotwired it and was off.
“Well. Let’s keep on walking. Got nothing else to do.” I muttered to myself. And so I walked into the lightening morning, still hoping for just one friend.











June 11, 2012
Things are changing. Hunters are withdrawing more, less and less zombies are around, most of them dead from rebel fractions of surviving humans. People are still dying though, just not like they used to. Old age, accidents. It’s all almost reminiscent of when things were normal.
I found a companion. He’s a cool little dude. His name is Chester, says so on the tag. He’s the only friend in the world I have. He’s a 6 month old German shepherd. I love this little guy. He goes with me where ever I go and never leaves my side. I can’t ask for a better companion than one that gives you a warning of when one of the Dead or a hunter is coming after you.
I looked down into my only friend’s happy eyes. “Don’t worry Chester. Everything is going to be alright…I hope so any ways.” Chester looked up at me with his joy filled eyes, and gave a low little bark. “I guess you trust me then. Its good to trust your only friends.”
It almost saddened me to know that my only companion in the world was a dog, but I can’t complain. Its good to have a friend in a dead world. We walked down a lonely desolate street, walking fast and him trotting along infront of me. My shins burned and my feet seared. Nothing felt better. It let me know I was moving fast on my way to the base I was headed to. The resistance HQ, on my oldest training ground, Parris Island, SC.
The journey took us almost another full 15 hours to finish. Chester slowed down the process, but I like to keep my friends happy. I don’t need to be the guy who had his dog run away while trying to survive a basic apocalypse.
It took ages, and a few bloody socks a few rounds into a raccoon for the 2 of us to share, but we made it. We stood at the gates to Satan’s Island. Parris Island, S.C. Marine Corps Recruit Depot. Its been years since I left, and I never thought I was coming back. But I have to keep myself alive and away from the Hunters. Not to mention, I had to keep my buddy safe.
We walked, not master and pet, but friend and friend towards the admin building. But. . .something, something was a little off about the Island. Windows were broken, there was no sound of recruits drilling or screaming diddies or even the distant cracks of the rifles at the range. What had happened to my Island? I drew my rifle to the ready. Even Chester seemed worried. His steps were still hastened, but he was scared. I could sense it.
We pressed on to the farthest reaches of First Battalion. The chow hall, BAS, the Parade Deck. But still something wasn’t right. It was denser then what I remembered, it was more humid, the stench of death was becoming clear in the air. I walked towards the Parade Deck, remembering the years past of when I first marched out onto that hallowed ground. But the ground was no longer hallowed. It was covered in smears of blood, torn camoflage utilities, broken bits of rifles. Covers littered the ground, deeply scarlet with blood. All dried. There was very little fresh blood on the ground. A sound of feet slamming against the ground towards me, top speed. I turned just in time to see a drill instructor running towards me. Only now he was one of the Dead. Which of course made him all the more terrifying. I thought living Drill Instructors were bad.
I fired the rifle, but it jammed. I started to panic, his speed was immense. As he ran I threw the rifle to the deck I pulled out my combat knife and swung for the zombified instructor. He ducked and swung for my chest, landing a blow and sending me reeling. I felt vomit and blood rise into my mouth. A small trickle of the mixture seaped from the courner of my mouth. He swung again for my chest, his nails scraping a gash into my chest, blood squirted from my chest. His torn campaign cover and green belt was pelted with large drops of my blood. A zombie drill instructor that is very strong, very fast and covered in blood. Just what I always wanted here at Parris Island. A fucked up drill instructor with retard strength and even worse breath. Great.
I slashed at his neck with my knife, but his speed was too much for me. The adrenaline started to kick in. I slashed and slashed at his body, but it did no good. He moved far too fast for me. I had to grab him by his camies and bring him in close, I risked being bitten, but I jammed my knife into his chest and drove it upwards, it severed from the top of his neck to the side. The blood in his body showered over me. He still was not dead, but his spine and neck fell to the side as he ran at me for another fresh attack. I swung a foot around and broke the top vertibrae in his spine, sending his skull flying into the concrete.
“Damn it, I have to wash this off now.” I grunted. I opened a canteen and poured it over my face and arms, rinsing the blood from my skin. “Want something to drink Chester?” A loud bark from him gave me an affirmative. I leaned forward and gave him a long drink from my canteen. “Damn Chesty, leave some for me.” Laughing slightly. I stood and took a small swig and placed the cap back on.
We walked to my old company hall. Alpha company. My old home. I walked up to the third deck. I couldn’t believe it. I opened the door and was greeted by a sight that filled me with nothing more than sickness. I saw recruits eating at the remains of their fallen drill instructors. I know recruits often dream of killing their D.I. but this is just way too much. I drew a grenade, and threw it inside, they noticed and rushed the doors, shutting them just in time, the explosion of the grenade sent me shoulder first in to the wall. It hurt, but I got over it. I opened the door and drawing my pistol finished the last few of the Dead that still lingered.
I stepped to a rack and dropped my sack and my war belt and round belt into the perfect folds and crisp sheets



Comment and Critique.

[gotxbrain]

Paragraphs are your friends. :/

[Souleater]

Paragraphs are your friends. :/

it got screwed up when i copied it from word. there are paragrpahs and its is almost 11 pages so far, the whole copy and paste onto a forum isnt a great thing.