Bored...

Since I was bored, and didn't want to write anything for the moment, I decided to give you another chapter of my good buddy BloodRaven. Other than that, I don't feel so well due to medication that I am taking. So bleh!

Chapter III

The Wrath of a Nation

Larnegin was tying up his boots, nice, snazzy, clean. He could smell the leather on them. His clothes were a disgusting green, and he had a small cap for his head. He hated them already, and he knew he was to fight a city battle in them for what could possibly be months. And he didn't even have FLAK ARMOR. Flak Armor, the cardboard of armor for the entire universe he once served in. The music in his mind flitting by unnoticed almost as he just shook his head. As he made to leave his room he stopped long enough to scoop up his rifle. Sighing heavily he left his room.......

…... And ran right into Jacky, “Come on slow ass! Lets get moving!” She said cheerily. She looked down at him from her height, 2 feet higher then him. She was dressed in obviously hand made uniform, made from several other uniforms. Obviously they were going to go for the fact she had a growth problem. Didn't matter. He just ground his teeth and bit back a series of curses and shouts of anger, and marched on towards the deployment deck.

Jacky wouldn't shut up! She kept singing traditional Russian songs and others, loudly trumpeting it as she carried along her rifle like a marching baton, which was ridiculously dwarfed in her massive paws of hands. He could just imagine how brutal close combat she would be, like a ogryn he imagined as he saw the bulky shit brained creatures able to hug to death a Tyranid Ravenor. He thought that Jacky could kill a hive tyrant with her size and smarts. Best just to swallow his pride and let her have her quirky way.

Janeson joined them, smiling wide he soon began to sing along to Jacky, her arm around his shoulders, and his around her back, it was as if they were drunk, singing loudly and poncing around like a pair of pansys. He just skulked compared to them, walking along embarrassed by them. Then Janeson pulled him close as he sang loudly. Sighing Larnegin joined in singing along unwillingly with them.

It was not long before they entered the deployment room. Inside many troopers were milling around, working on their guns, chatting. Seeing the sight of three singing troopers, one ridiculously tall, the other two average sized. They all laughed at that, a few even joined in with the well known and well loved Janeson. A kind man when he joined, and seemingly kinder man after years of war. If a commissar shot him, he would be found shot with his own bolt pistol.

A couple of the men lifted the trooper up on their knees as he lead a chorus in song to their anthem as they marched over to the deployment room's doors. Their ecstatic singing carrying over into the bolted room. Larnegin was unsure of how the Unnamed properly implanted their operatives let alone a force their size without being caught or seen. But as he saw the doors open, his mouth and everyone else dropped open in awe, except for Jacky who just kept singing.

The chamber's size was massive, but that was not the amazing part, throughout the entire place were teleportation platforms. Giant ones, able to convey whole platoons worth of men. Their handler was there, the doctor, Elizabeth Swam. Smiling she waved her hand to crackling fields all around, “Welcome Marines! Welcome to your DDD, Or Deep Deployment Device. Your In-field handler, Donovan, is already in deep cover as a Commissar. Your neural links have been updated. As well as opponents you must kill and objectives that must be achieved as you progress.

She smiled darkly, and removing her glasses with precision she called out, “Staff Sergeant Johnson! You have command. Split them as you see fit!” And like that Johnson called out. “Alright you maggots! Get into squads! Get into Platoons! You won't be with them long but you better get to action now! Times wasting and we don't want to keep the fascists waiting now do we!” He called out and all the men called out a warcry, “That's the spirit! Now move out!”

Larn was carried along in the press. The men around were moving forward, eager and with rifles in hand, many didn't even have that much, just knives in hand. Due to the Soviet's lack of weapons it would be strange to see nearly 300 men just suddenly pop up with weapons and ammo. “Squad A in Platoon 1! Get on the first pad! Squad B! You know the drill. When first platoon is away, second get onto the pads! Charge boys! For the glory of the Unnamed and for mother Russia!” Johnson had gotten a megaphone, and had a different look. Looking like a commissar he had a PPsH smg, and a Tokarev pistol as his side arm. The little thing didn't look very imposing but no one wanted to test it without any armor. “With me comrades!” Sergeant Huolder called out, raising his rifle up and yelled out a cry as he lead his personal squad up onto the pad. A few seconds later after Color sergeant Yukonev pulled himself up with the sickle and hammer, (As the men began to call the flag), they disappeared in a wash of static and electrical power. “Go now and show them hell!” Jard called out, leading Larnegin's squad now as he pushed forward. Larn had no second thoughts, Jacky jumping up like it was a little step She pulled both Larn and Janeson up. “Come on boys! Lets kick some Nazi ass!” Leading the cry they were teleported to a barren place that shunned such calls. On the opposite side of the Volga they appeared, getting in line quietly, for the boats to cross the river.............. .

Rain, rain come again...

Well, it's dark outside, it's raining, and I am looking into a computer screen with nothing else to do except go insane and write random stories. This is a short story, not really up to my standards of writing at all, but I really can't think of anything else to go with it. Oh well, give me feedback, let me know what you think, and enjoy a good cup of cocoa, or whatever you like. Also, please remember that I do commissions for anyone that wants a story done for what they need or want. Contact me and let's talk. Thanks.

Red

By Justin Thomas

Why? Why does it hurt so much? What… What did I do wrong? Nana was right, I should of listened to her, she told me that is wasn’t safe in these woods… Stupid wolf, this is all of his fault, stupid mutt, getting all horny about seeing me in my new red cloak that Nana had given me for my birthday, damn thing is torn too… Is it raining? Oh God! It is raining! Shit! I er, never mind, Nana never did like that language too much. A tree! If only the… Yes! It’s hollow, ah, that feels much better.

I look up at the sky, the clouds, are a rolling black, menacing to look at, the rain is coming down like stones thrown from Heaven. My arm feels tender and as I examine it, fresh tears sting my eyes; the bite is deeper than I thought it was, and blood still flows freely from my wound. The skin around the bite is rough and jagged, I growl in annoyance and in pain, tearing off some of my cloak from the bottom, I grit my teeth, focus, and wrap the cloth around my wound tightly, bringing with it fresh tears. Leaning back against the hollow in the tree I sniffle, wishing this was all a dream, wanting this nightmare to be no more, being on the run from a homicidal wolf that has a craving for female flesh is enough to want to scream and walk up, safe.

A distant howl makes me shiver more, wrapping my torn cloak around me, I feel a little light headed, it has to be recovering from shock, and my arm seems to hurt more. A glance tells me that my blood had already darkened my crimson wrapping. I shake my head, loosening more my long black hair, which gets in the way of my green eyes. I close them; right now I would rather hide my slender five foot, six inch frame. At a hundred and thirty pounds I was no match for that large wolf, thank God for that stick… His bushy white fur should have been my first warning that he was the one that was the danger in these woods. The second warning should have been when he started talking in that low, raspy voice of his, I guess all wolves sound like that, but I never want to find out. I should of started running, a mistake as I was curious; I never before had a wolf tell me how pretty I looked, or how good I smelled… Oh Father in Heaven, I never want to see those cunning yellow eyes ever again, please, get me out of here…

The storm is starting to get worse, my view of outside is ruined, making me even more worried about the wolf sneaking up on me. Every flash of lightning followed by the crash of thunder is doing nothing from making me fleeing from my temporary shelter. Even now, after running farther deeper into the woods, I realize with a sinking feeling that I’m lost, lost, wounded, and fearing for my life. I’m scared, I’m so scared, never wanting this in the first place, my arm is starting to ache again, I can’t sleep…

I hit my head hard against the tree, awake, cold, I suddenly realize that it’s stopped raining, everything is quiet, even the wind doesn’t make a tree shake its branches. My heart skips a beat, nothing, at least the darkness is alleviated with the half moon, my night vision barely picks out the fallen debris as I emerge from my shelter, and my breath makes itself known in the weak moonlight as I gently nurse my arm. It’s stiff, I cradle it gently as I start to walk slowly, I still feel light headed, not wanting to fall over I take smaller steps. But even as I try to walk quietly my heart jumps at every sound I make, thinking that the wolf will hear me as the wet grass and mall branches give me away. My breathing is too loud, surely the wolf will hear that, more tears flow as I shiver, and a sob nearly rents itself from my weakened body. I have to be strong, even if I don’t feel like it…

The wind starts to blow, the crisp, clean air isn’t helping me to keep warm, the breeze feels like ice when it snows, and I start to shiver harder. I stop suddenly when I hear a howl perks my ears, the hairs on my skin stand straight up.

I feel like a rabbit when it hears a predator, small, helpless, and not knowing where my doom is going to come from. I shift my gaze around me, nothing moves, nothing seems to be alive, but I know he’s out there, somewhere, I can feel his gaze on me, watching me, knowing that I can’t see him.

I sniffle as I feel really alone out here, abandoned, not even God seems to be here with me, He’s left me to die in this forest. I take a tentative, small step forward, then another, ready to run at the slightest hint that the wolf is there. But I can still feel that lofty gaze caressing my body, savoring the moment, waiting patiently, and enjoying this. I start to move faster, no clear directions on where I’m going, all I know is that I have to get out of here, far away from this evil forest, and the wolf. I silently wish that I can see my cabin, walk inside, where Nana is waiting for me, knowing that she would help me get warm, tend to my wound, and tell me that everything is going to alright, that it’s all going to be fine…

Hours seem to go by since I’ve left my hollow tree, the one place where I felt safe in these woods. It’s still quiet, not even the night animals are making any noise, what I would give to hear the owl make its call, but their all asleep, safe, and snug in their homes. I stop and lean against a tree to strengthen my weakened state. Glancing down to make sure my next step wouldn’t be in a puddle I stop, my heart freezes in my chest, my blood is like ice as I take a step backwards and fall down.

My mouth opens as I scream, and scream for my dear Nana, the one who was supposed to protect me, the one who was supposed to tell me that everything was going to fine, that this was all a nightmare. I scream for my Nana who will now never come.

I gag as I turn away from the grisly sight, her throat was ripped open, blood still seeped from her wounds sluggishly, and her insides were strewn about, seemingly like in celebration. Her lantern was broken, thrown against a tree as I look again, not wanting to believe that my Nana is dead. Her eyes are wide and glassy, her mouth opened to let out a scream that will now never be uttered, forever in a state of surprise and terror. The wolf was here… He had killed her… I start sobbing uncontrollably, not caring if I was killed right then and there, my mind unwilling to comprehend what it was seeing… My Nana, dead… No! No! No! This can’t be right! I turn away as I vomit from not being able to breathe, my tears blinding me as I wipe them away, and shiver more as I hear soft laughter…

“My, my, I see you found my present, a shame though, she didn’t even fight back at all. Maybe it was because I scared her stiff.” The wolf said as he appeared from the shadows and laid next to her corpse, and nuzzled her head gently, licking her wound tenderly, mocking me with his show of power. His tail wagged as he watched me, amused at my reaction with disgust and horror. I tried to speak, but a fresh sob escaped me, he continued to watch, seeming to smile at my plight. “Now, now, my darling Red.” He chuckled as he got up and got closer. “Even if you weren’t injured, or cold, I could still outrun you, that branch hurt, and I always get my revenge.” He growled in my ear, my shivering increased as I knew this was it, I was going to die right here, I closed my eyes waiting to die. I could feel his fur brush against me as he circled me slowly, and I nearly cried out as I felt his hot breath against my cheek.

“P-Please.” I whisper as I cry more, shaking with terror as I felt him nip my neck. “Ohh.” He cooed. “Is my little Red scared?” I nod as I open my eyes, staring back into his merciless yellow ones. “Good.” With that he pushed me forward onto my back, knocking some of the air out of my body and into the face of my dead Nana. I couldn’t help but scream in terror as I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck, and his teeth tearing into my flesh.

My consciousness began to fade as I managed to hear a crunching sound, all my pain, and sadness leaving me. A faint smile crossed my face, as I was now free, free from my cage of life.

One month left...

I think it is really interesting that life, is more important death, I think it should the other way around. But that's just me, and if you really met me, you would know that I am kidding. I guess things work out one way or another, I have another chapter done, October, my favorite month is coming... Hmmm... I wonder if I should have this long and somehow curios story done by then? I don't really know?

Chapter Four

“I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.”

Clarence Darrow

I’m not sure, when I opened my eyes again, everything was blurry, and a man was gently shaking my shoulder. “Hey Doc, you okay?” I groaned in pain as my neck was at an odd angle and it hurt when I pushed up on rubbery arms. “Come on Doc, you know how John gets when you fall asleep.” I smiled when he mentioned my bosses name; Paul Harvey sure knew how to make me watch my toes. I sat up from off the desk, and looked around, everything was as it should have been, no blood, no missing bodies, and no crazed, serial killer with a meat cleaver wanting my head.

I yawned and stood, stretching and testing my aching body that had been cuddling the hard desk in the office area. “Sorry Paul, must of dozed off…” “It’s alright, happens to me when things are slower than usual.” I nodded, feeling sympathetic towards those slow nights when there was nothing to do but wait. He had a gurney with him, which was why he was down here in the basement waking me up. “Who did you bring in?” I inquired, even after that mad dream, I still was curious how people died, not how I would die mind you, but it would be helpful to someone in the future.

Paul took a look at the sheet and grimaced with pain, his arthritis must have been acting up again, poor guy. “Jason Mcreedy, the young man at the gas station off of Main and Fifth, death was at approximately 11:15 P.M. A young lady had found him dead, leaning against the counter. Cause of death, we don’t know, which was why we came to you.” I frowned, Jason was always such a good-natured kid, if he died, which was tragic, what did he die of?

“Thank you Paul.” I said simply as I wrote on the paper signing the release of his corpse to the hospital and me. He nodded and sighed. “Tell me what you find out alright? His family is going to be devastated, told me last week when I stopped in that his sister was getting married.” Life, and death, was the ying and yang of our lives, once you were born, your life would always lead to death, one way or another. What I didn’t know was that my life would end this night, the same as Jason Mcreedy, who found his rest before his time was supposed to be up.

When Paul left I looked down at the gurney and sighed, this was one of the worst parts of the job. A friend or even a loved one that would show up in her Morgue made her sick, the first time it had been an old boyfriend from High school. She had thrown up when she cut open his chest, the teacher had sighed but didn’t yell at her, she was later told that was a normal response for first time students. She didn’t tell him that she had loved him, but it didn’t matter, not after that, she kept a straight face, and did her work with a grim outlook on life.

The sheet that uncovered the body of Jason, however, made her almost cry out with fear and wonder. A normal corpse, freshly dead still retained some color, with slight discoloration, the lips would still be red, but tinged with a light blue. She got closer, placed a hand on his cheek, and jumped back with a shiver that ran down her spin. Whatever had happened to Jason, he had been subject to a cold death. His skin was as white as fresh fallen snow, his flesh did not retain any residual heat, and his lips were the darkest blue she had ever seen, This did call for an investigation…

While she went to get her tools, the stainless steel doors that housed the dead changed to a Scarlet color, a young girl, with black hair and a torn white gown appeared. She looked around, and smiled, malice and anger appeared in her steel grey eyes, a man had called her, but failing to find the source, she found the next best thing, a woman in a white lab coat that played with the dead. But before Casey had returned, she disappeared, waiting for the right time to play with her prey.

I felt the room grow suddenly colder, and I swore that for just a moment, I could see my breath. I shook my head, and everything was the same again. I must have been more tired than I thought as a yawn was stifled. ‘Maybe I should of asked for the day shift, and be able to sleep at night, it would be nice to be in my bed.’ The thought came to me, and I yawned again but didn’t try to abate it. My neck began to hurt again, ‘damn dreams and their ability to seem so real,’ I cursed silently, if this night could get any worse, I couldn’t see it.

“Subjects name is Jason Mcreedy, sex, male, height about five foot seven, weight about one hundred and eighty pounds. Subject announced dead at approximately eleven O’clock P.M. on ten, twenty-eight two thousand and twelve. Hair is a dark red, no lacerations located on the body, and no birthmark sighted.”

I sighed as I clicked off the tape recorder, of all the people, it had to be Jason. I knew him less, only talking to him when I went to buy something at night, and as far as I could tell, he was a sweet kid. A little silly with the jokes he told me, but as gentle as a butterfly. Mustering up the strength to see what had killed him, I tried to take a blood sample but instead of slow moving blood, I got nothing, absolutely nothing out of him. Growling in annoyance slightly I cut open a small portion of his wrist, red ice crystals fell out instead of what I expected, and they quickly began to melt into a small puddle of red blood.

Curious as to what had happened I quickly put some of the crystals in a small vial and put them in the freezer in the back. And returned to find that the blood, and ice had simply vanished, nothing, no blood puddle, and no ice crystals. Nothing this night was making sense, not the dream or Jason being frozen solid, or the people yelling, I whimpered in my tiredness, as if God himself was laughing at my misfortunes.

I took a step back with fright as Jason’s corpse sat up suddenly and turned his head, I think I screamed as I felt like my heart was going to burst. Nothing else happened, I waited a few minutes, and cautiously took a step forward and held my breath, I was losing it, the body was going through Rigor Mortis, and I mistook it that he was still alive. I gently pushed him back down and wheeled him to his locker and transferred him from the stretcher to the cold metal table, pushed him into the meat locker and shut the small door behind the body.

I leaned against the stretcher and rubbed my temples, I silently wished that tonight was going to get better, that nothing else would go wrong. How foolish I was being, the truth was right in front of me but I refused to see it, my life would be distinguished in front of my eyes, and as my body would be lifted up and drained with my throat slashed, my last thoughts would be of my husband, and my cat…

I yawned again, I needed to stop being so negative, things would not end like that, I wondered if I was going crazy. Yeah, that would be a nice step in a new direction, insanity from whatever was going on.  Looking around, and noticing that I had nothing to do now, besides rack my head for answers to questions I had no knowledge of. A quick walk would do me some good, to clear myself of the heaviness that seemed to have invaded my morgue and my senses.