- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
Alright, the PM's have been sent, and there were a lot, which explains the lateness of this. Plus I was quite saddened over the Eagles defeat, especially considering how damn close that game was. Anyways, here's Chapter 7, in all its glory. I know its somewhat short, but hey, in total all these chapters exceed the 50 page mark, which is a lot.
The End of a War
Chapter 7
The Man Said “Duck!” I heard “Stand up”
“What the hell is that?”
Sergeant Johnson felt an emotion he hadn’t come across in a long time. Raw fear flooded his being and he took a shaky step backwards. Never in his life had he ever felt the urge to flee so strongly before.
Not when he had faced the Covenant across the battlefield for the first time. Not when he had seen Reach burning. Not even when he had felt the Flood parasite puncture his neck and move inside his body. Nothing had ever struck so deep within him.
The convoluted mass at the end of the chamber sent tendrils of true horror lacing through him. The brief description Cortana and the Arbiter had given had not been sufficient to prepare him for what he now faced. He forced himself to stay calm, despite his mind screaming at him to call for a retreat and leave the ceremonial chamber at once.
The pair of Hunters that had led the charge into the room had been taken aback as well. Their eyes fell upon the twisted and mangled bodies of the Hunters that had been with the Major’s team and any thoughts of retreat slipped from their minds. The fuel rod guns they carried were charging even as they let loose a battle roar and began charging across the chamber towards the creature.
“Damn,” Johnson cursed as he tried to get his body to move. The Elites behind him were snapped from their stupor at the site of the enraged Hunters and they moved to engage as well. Plasma screamed across the chamber and slammed into the creature, spraying yellow secretion onto the floor.
A mass of tentacles appeared from within the creature and lashed out. One of the Hunters was slammed into the deck, the audible crack made Johnson wince as the floor gave way even as the Hunter’s heavy armor was crushed. The remaining Hunter roared with primal fury as his fuel rod was leveled and fired down the chamber, searing a large wound onto the creature. Another tentacle lashed out and the remaining Hunter was killed.
The Elites backed off from their suicidal charge. Sense returned to them and they quickly split into two squads and advanced from two separate directions. One of the Elites began firing at the creature with a carbine, only to have one of the many tentacles sweep across and send him skidding across the hull, before finally slamming into the wall.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I move?
Johnson watched helplessly as one of the squads was beaten savagely into the deck. Even from the other side of the chamber he could hear the sound of bones shattering. The screams of the unfortunate Elites were drowned out as a tentacle slammed down once more, shaking the deck.
The remaining group of Elites backed off and high-tailed it back to where Johnson stood, rooted to the ground.
“What should we do?” one of them questioned. “Attacking serves only to provoke the beast.”
“Go,” Johnson said, glad that at least his mouth was able to work. “Go get some reinforcements.”
“You cannot hope to defeat this creature by yourself human,” an Elite commented. Johnson nearly smirked. He happened to agree with the alien, but he couldn’t move to assist the others, let alone run through the entire ship hoping the communications came back online.
“Trust me,” he said simply. The Elites glanced at one another for a moment before dashing out of the room. Johnson knew running from an enemy for the Elites was probably almost as bad as staying and getting mutilated like the others. He felt his body give an involuntary shudder as his gaze fell back onto the end of the chamber.
“Bravery is empty without wisdom.”
Johnson felt another shudder as the creature’s voice echoed within the room, devoid of life. He took a deep breath and forced himself to begin walking forward, his weapon slung limply across his shoulder.
“Your that thing the Arbiter was talking about before, the leader of the Flood.”
“I am not their leader,” its voice sounded amused. “They are me, as I am them. We are all one consciousness.”
“You control them though don’t ya?” Johnson asked. “Its by your will that they hunt us.”
“It is our purpose, what we were designed for. Our creators sought salvation of life, but what they received was death incarnate.”
Johnson felt his knees start to go weak as he grew closer, and more of the creature became visible. It was massive, nearly filling a quarter of the chamber.
“If they wanted salvation, then how come they created you?”
“Destruction is creation. We are what they strived for, what they desired to become.”
Johnson was starting to get worried. Whatever reinforcements those Elites were getting wasn’t getting here fast enough. This creature spoke in riddles, and he was having a hard enough time keeping its attention.
“Why would they want to become like you?”
Something that sounded like laughter filtered out from the creature.
“They wanted what we possessed,” the creature said. “When power is absolute, there are no limitations.”
He finally stopped walking. Johnson now stood not more than twenty feet from it. The disgusting aroma of rotten flesh assaulted him but he maintained his composure. If this thing was going to tear him to shreds then he’d at least meet it head on.
“Absolute power huh?” Johnson quoted. “You don’t look so tough to me.”
“Our creators dreamed of eternity, yet we gave them damnation. Their reach surpassed their grasp and from their sins, we were born.”
Johnson’s eyes drifted away from the creature and he spotted the mangled corpse of an Elite nearby. It was Major Ekaporamee. From where he stood, Johnson could tell he took a hell of a beating before going down. A shattered energy blade was still clutched in his right hand.
Shame flooded the sergeant at that moment. He had stood by, rooted to the ground with fear as fellow warriors had fought and died in battle.
Reaching around, Johnson slung the pump-handled shotgun into his hands, and worked the action.
“I’ve never been very good with words. The only way I can express myself is on the battlefield, fighting an enemy with everything I’ve got,” Johnson said, his voice tight as he looked down at the desecrated bodies of the Elites. “These soldiers may not have been my friends, but they were comrades, and right here and now, I’m going to avenge them.”
A laugh spilled forth from the Flood.
“Then come human, attack. Let your blood, spilt upon this ground signal our dominion over all life.”
Sergeant A. J. Johnson felt his lips curl into a snarl as he growled out, “That ain’t gonna happen.”
With a grace born from countless battles, Johnson deftly unlimbered his ammo pouch and was ripping several fragmentation grenades free from inside before Gravemind had begun to move. Any weapons instructor would have told you that firing an M90 shotgun while on the move without having it properly secured against your shoulder, was a great way to break your arm or severely damage your ribs. That was exactly what Johnson was doing though, as he sent several buckshot rounds spraying into the center of the creature.
Movement to his left caught Johnson’s attention and he was already diving to the side when a tentacle slammed into the deck floor where he had previously stood. Safety pin removed, a frag grenade sailed through the air and landed on the Flood leader. Johnson ducked behind a pillar and listened with silent satisfaction as the grenade detonated.
Wasting no time he hoofed it across the short distance to another pillar, taking the opportunity to glance at the end of the chamber. The grenade had ripped a nice section of the Flood leader apart, but he could already tell the wound was healing.
“Your weapons are ineffective.”
Johnson readied two more grenades and sent them sailing towards Gravemind, his heart racing as he watched them detonate and tear into the creature. Once again he could see the damage they inflicted was minor, and was healed just as quickly.
What the hell does it take to kill this bastard?
Inhaling deeply, Johnson pushed off the pillar and swung around, intending to let loose with his shotgun when Gravemind slammed a tentacle across his side.
Damnit!
He was lifted off the ground and sent flying across the room before his momentum was stopped when his body slammed into one of the many pillars decorating the room. Blackness swam in front of his vision and he felt pain stab at his entire being. He fell, landing unceremoniously onto the deck, his head bouncing roughly and the shotgun fell from his grasp.
“Death is all that awaits your kind human. It is better to accept it as inevitable, than to fight against the impossible.”
He broke my goddamn ribs, and my leg too…Crap! Can’t move my arm either. I’m gonna go into shock.
Johnson was beginning to lose his grip on consciousness when his bones began the agonizing process of stitching themselves back together. The pain was enough to keep him from slipping into shock as he bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from screaming.
The Flood leader must have been surprised when it heard Johnson lift himself to his knees and slowly drag himself towards his fallen weapon. He picked it up and sat back, slumping against the pillar he had crashed into earlier and checked the action, making sure it was still in working order.
[Edited on 2/6/2005 8:27:37 PM]