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I wrote this after reading the WOOT thread. Please note that any names, resemblances etc etc are non-intentional. This was inspiration - it is raw and just flowed. n00bs - no raw deal, hehe, you happen to be the most feared thing in the universe. Perversely, something to be proud of.
Kidding aside - I hope you enjoy it. And then go and sit in a dark room.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Drip. Drip. Dark foetid air combines with sweat and fear.
*phsssssss* steam gasps from the cracks in the reactors side. Spinning like a cat he crouches and listens. Nothing.
Bodies litter the floor, their tortuous contortions in the geiger-esque scene falling onto his seared retina's. Brain refusing to compute what is before him he mentally recites the mantra that has kept him alive for the past 48 hours “Family, friends, Christmas, Nintendo…Family, friends-“
*blip*.......*blip*. The hair stands on the back of his neck, the motion sensors monotone screaming down his spine, adrenal glands pouring their contents into his veins. Closer still. *blip*..*blip* knuckles whiten as he flicks the full auto on the Smartgun, and feels it writhe in his grip locking on to the target.
Sweat burns his eyes, but not a blink - that would be fatal.
*phssssssssss*...
It rips towards him, cat like and with terrifying speed, it's hive mind driving it on with insane chittering. It has seen food, a host even - and it has called others, he knows it. The terror, hot and raw jerks his arms up - he squeezes the trigger and feels the weapon take control, it's servos rock his body into position. The muzzle flashes and spits it magnesium death in bright orange streaks. The n00b takes each round in the thorax, gouts of green acid streaking the walls. The 'guns violent harvest ends abrubtly. 15 rounds in 100th a second...with only 200 left it's gonna be a long haul.
The blips die with the Creature's last spasms.
It was not our choice. Circumstances and a terrible mistake have resulted in this, the dusk of humanity. The Creatures are thriving and the human hosts they use to build their ranks dwindling - only a few outposts remain, clear from the pestilence and shielded by massive energy draining domes, powered by human electrical banks. Just 20 years ago it would have been abhorred, the very idea of it sickening. But, without the ability to mine for fuel or man the oil pumps that power the stations - mankind had to look to himself for a renewable energy source. Generations will never see a life, enjoy the little things like Christmas, Nintendo or family life. They came and took the child you had, and you knew it had to be. 1 in 2 went. But he did not believe this was the only way. He had heard from the few who ventured away from the domes and returned that the Creatures used a power -it warmed their egg farms and sustained their existence. It was given the moniker "Forumma" by the pioneer scientist W. Hitestripe. By heating it slowly it changed it's molecular structure much like sulphur - too far and it became highly unstable. Too little and it was simply inert. Strike it just right though, and a few cubic centimeters could power a city for a hour - before it evaporated. Or a war to destroy them.
The Creatures had brought it with them, secreting it in vast quantities during their metamorphosis. The larvae also known as a Christanious, was every bit as hell bent on procreation as the adult drone. It emerges from the egg sac and, alerted by struggling, attaches itself to the host like a parasite. Leeching all it can from host it spams an egg deep into the host bowl cavity. 2 days later the host, starved from the growth of a terror impossible to comprehend, wakes to the "kicking" of it's hellish new born. The drone claws it's way out and the hive mind welcomes it. It may become a Gerrid, an egg laying machine - or it will be a faithful n00b, gathering hosts and secreting forumma.
“This is all we know…” he was told. But he knew better. They knew more. They knew his parents and family had been taken by the Creatures. They knew their lives ended miserably and violently in some dark hole. They knew this ate him every day of his life. They knew he would go, venturing into their Web armed to the teeth and itching to discover their weakness – a way to harness the Forumma. They knew he would go…
Here. An assumed location of a Gerrid. His team airlifted and dropped in a state of the art APC could only hope they would leave alive. As it was, Unbeliever, Tilta and Snipe were all that survived of his colleagues. They waited for him, hollow eyes and knife edged sanity in the dropship circling this site. Just yesterday Tilta had found a friend, his body mutilated as the Creature had erupted from it. Smashed. Delorentis had pushed him aside and bent to check the tag on the bloodstained uniform. B. Dandy. Tilta wrecked. The other members of the team visibly shaken.
That was just the start of it all.
They had made their slow way through the compound, signs of struggles visible, barricades built, stale fear still hanging in the air. And everywhere strands of Forumma. But not a single body.Yet. Delorentis ordered the formation, “loose deuce”. It allowed shifting of positions, and a melee style of fighting, but his men were conditioned. Hours and hours of combat training had sharpened reflexes. The Ninty’s knew that a back covered, meant their own would be too.
Unbeliever took point – the massive smartgun circling his body like a lover doing the waltz - it’s muzzle seeking a target. The team worked their way through corridors, nerves twanging with every new door or corner. It got darker. Sources of light had been covered by Forumma, edges and corners filled by it. Tunnels it seemed were a favourite with the Creatures and the dampness and heat increased. Delorentis gave the order “IR lads – filter for heat signatures above 45”. Swiftly the team activated their targeting systems, lowering the visor over the left or right eye. It was hot –the filtering did something for the myriad of heat sources but…still very difficult. Not a sign of the Creatures anywhere. Snipe started some nervous chatter – it was his way of cooling off but it was not helping. Cloying claustrophobia set in, two abreast. This was not good…
*Blip* oh mother of god… “Is she still alive?” Frantically Snipe grabbed the women’s arm, tipped the head back and looked into the eyes…she looked dead, cold. But something had moved. We all knew then. But some had never seen it. They wish now they never saw it. Torched before it could scuttle off, the n00b hung from her body, squeals pealing through the compound… Delorentis released the trigger, the flame of the blue pilot light glittering in his eyes.
*Blip*…*Blip* “I got six, can’t tell above or below – where the hell!!!!” *Blip* “I have two!! Boss what we gonna do… can’t see ‘em…” Barking the command to Back to Back, Delorentis unleashed the beast in the smartgun –Unbeliever’s whining servoes telling him he had done the same. And the roof crawled. Dropping from the roof, hissing and screaming the n00b horde fell into the middle of the crew, staccato gunfire punctuating the confusion. Screaming obscenities, Tilta lay about with his flamer while Snipe backed up against him, his carbine chattering death into the squirming mass. The marines were fighting hard but every so often a scream and one more crackle of static. Desperately calling for the men to fall back Delorentis spins to see Cookie lifted bodily into a vent his arms flailing. The world slows…treacle like he raises his side arm and looks into Cookies eyes and sees It… *crack* the pistol bucks in his hand. A better way to go.
Limping back to the APC with the hordes of hell in pursuit, his team decimated and broken he commanded them to go. He would do it alone – what would be one more in the thousands that had already died? Looking up at the Dropship’s howling engines he thinks of his family, friends, Christmas and Nintendo.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
And so ends the first installment. I may let you know if Delorentis saves the world in the new year. TTFN
:o)
Kidding aside - I hope you enjoy it. And then go and sit in a dark room.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Drip. Drip. Dark foetid air combines with sweat and fear.
*phsssssss* steam gasps from the cracks in the reactors side. Spinning like a cat he crouches and listens. Nothing.
Bodies litter the floor, their tortuous contortions in the geiger-esque scene falling onto his seared retina's. Brain refusing to compute what is before him he mentally recites the mantra that has kept him alive for the past 48 hours “Family, friends, Christmas, Nintendo…Family, friends-“
*blip*.......*blip*. The hair stands on the back of his neck, the motion sensors monotone screaming down his spine, adrenal glands pouring their contents into his veins. Closer still. *blip*..*blip* knuckles whiten as he flicks the full auto on the Smartgun, and feels it writhe in his grip locking on to the target.
Sweat burns his eyes, but not a blink - that would be fatal.
*phssssssssss*...
It rips towards him, cat like and with terrifying speed, it's hive mind driving it on with insane chittering. It has seen food, a host even - and it has called others, he knows it. The terror, hot and raw jerks his arms up - he squeezes the trigger and feels the weapon take control, it's servos rock his body into position. The muzzle flashes and spits it magnesium death in bright orange streaks. The n00b takes each round in the thorax, gouts of green acid streaking the walls. The 'guns violent harvest ends abrubtly. 15 rounds in 100th a second...with only 200 left it's gonna be a long haul.
The blips die with the Creature's last spasms.
It was not our choice. Circumstances and a terrible mistake have resulted in this, the dusk of humanity. The Creatures are thriving and the human hosts they use to build their ranks dwindling - only a few outposts remain, clear from the pestilence and shielded by massive energy draining domes, powered by human electrical banks. Just 20 years ago it would have been abhorred, the very idea of it sickening. But, without the ability to mine for fuel or man the oil pumps that power the stations - mankind had to look to himself for a renewable energy source. Generations will never see a life, enjoy the little things like Christmas, Nintendo or family life. They came and took the child you had, and you knew it had to be. 1 in 2 went. But he did not believe this was the only way. He had heard from the few who ventured away from the domes and returned that the Creatures used a power -it warmed their egg farms and sustained their existence. It was given the moniker "Forumma" by the pioneer scientist W. Hitestripe. By heating it slowly it changed it's molecular structure much like sulphur - too far and it became highly unstable. Too little and it was simply inert. Strike it just right though, and a few cubic centimeters could power a city for a hour - before it evaporated. Or a war to destroy them.
The Creatures had brought it with them, secreting it in vast quantities during their metamorphosis. The larvae also known as a Christanious, was every bit as hell bent on procreation as the adult drone. It emerges from the egg sac and, alerted by struggling, attaches itself to the host like a parasite. Leeching all it can from host it spams an egg deep into the host bowl cavity. 2 days later the host, starved from the growth of a terror impossible to comprehend, wakes to the "kicking" of it's hellish new born. The drone claws it's way out and the hive mind welcomes it. It may become a Gerrid, an egg laying machine - or it will be a faithful n00b, gathering hosts and secreting forumma.
“This is all we know…” he was told. But he knew better. They knew more. They knew his parents and family had been taken by the Creatures. They knew their lives ended miserably and violently in some dark hole. They knew this ate him every day of his life. They knew he would go, venturing into their Web armed to the teeth and itching to discover their weakness – a way to harness the Forumma. They knew he would go…
Here. An assumed location of a Gerrid. His team airlifted and dropped in a state of the art APC could only hope they would leave alive. As it was, Unbeliever, Tilta and Snipe were all that survived of his colleagues. They waited for him, hollow eyes and knife edged sanity in the dropship circling this site. Just yesterday Tilta had found a friend, his body mutilated as the Creature had erupted from it. Smashed. Delorentis had pushed him aside and bent to check the tag on the bloodstained uniform. B. Dandy. Tilta wrecked. The other members of the team visibly shaken.
That was just the start of it all.
They had made their slow way through the compound, signs of struggles visible, barricades built, stale fear still hanging in the air. And everywhere strands of Forumma. But not a single body.Yet. Delorentis ordered the formation, “loose deuce”. It allowed shifting of positions, and a melee style of fighting, but his men were conditioned. Hours and hours of combat training had sharpened reflexes. The Ninty’s knew that a back covered, meant their own would be too.
Unbeliever took point – the massive smartgun circling his body like a lover doing the waltz - it’s muzzle seeking a target. The team worked their way through corridors, nerves twanging with every new door or corner. It got darker. Sources of light had been covered by Forumma, edges and corners filled by it. Tunnels it seemed were a favourite with the Creatures and the dampness and heat increased. Delorentis gave the order “IR lads – filter for heat signatures above 45”. Swiftly the team activated their targeting systems, lowering the visor over the left or right eye. It was hot –the filtering did something for the myriad of heat sources but…still very difficult. Not a sign of the Creatures anywhere. Snipe started some nervous chatter – it was his way of cooling off but it was not helping. Cloying claustrophobia set in, two abreast. This was not good…
*Blip* oh mother of god… “Is she still alive?” Frantically Snipe grabbed the women’s arm, tipped the head back and looked into the eyes…she looked dead, cold. But something had moved. We all knew then. But some had never seen it. They wish now they never saw it. Torched before it could scuttle off, the n00b hung from her body, squeals pealing through the compound… Delorentis released the trigger, the flame of the blue pilot light glittering in his eyes.
*Blip*…*Blip* “I got six, can’t tell above or below – where the hell!!!!” *Blip* “I have two!! Boss what we gonna do… can’t see ‘em…” Barking the command to Back to Back, Delorentis unleashed the beast in the smartgun –Unbeliever’s whining servoes telling him he had done the same. And the roof crawled. Dropping from the roof, hissing and screaming the n00b horde fell into the middle of the crew, staccato gunfire punctuating the confusion. Screaming obscenities, Tilta lay about with his flamer while Snipe backed up against him, his carbine chattering death into the squirming mass. The marines were fighting hard but every so often a scream and one more crackle of static. Desperately calling for the men to fall back Delorentis spins to see Cookie lifted bodily into a vent his arms flailing. The world slows…treacle like he raises his side arm and looks into Cookies eyes and sees It… *crack* the pistol bucks in his hand. A better way to go.
Limping back to the APC with the hordes of hell in pursuit, his team decimated and broken he commanded them to go. He would do it alone – what would be one more in the thousands that had already died? Looking up at the Dropship’s howling engines he thinks of his family, friends, Christmas and Nintendo.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
And so ends the first installment. I may let you know if Delorentis saves the world in the new year. TTFN
:o)
:o) Mincey.
Favourably yeah-in this you spontaneously deliver the package that ensures the species survial and the demise of another.
Important to be sure. But don't read to deep into it - I just likerd the sound of it. You can just hear the poor beggars :"AAAAAieeeeeeeeee!!! A Christaneous! We are all doomed..."
Bwahahahahahaa!!!!
Favourably yeah-in this you spontaneously deliver the package that ensures the species survial and the demise of another.
Important to be sure. But don't read to deep into it - I just likerd the sound of it. You can just hear the poor beggars :"AAAAAieeeeeeeeee!!! A Christaneous! We are all doomed..."
Bwahahahahahaa!!!!
Hah, my first mention in a spoof!
at least I was favourably portrayed.
*reads spoof*
hhhm. Tochay.
at least I was favourably portrayed.
*reads spoof*
hhhm. Tochay.
Yeah I supppose Snipe - just wanted you chaps to have a first look. Heh - really wierd how a moment of inspiration reels off talk about mental drain. I was sitting at my desk at work and BAM -it hit.
Little bit of Super Mario Sunshine now methinks... with some MTV in the background. *Flicks on the channel* -Oooh No Doubt.
mmmm Gwen you are soooo fine erm back to the subject...More comments welcome chaps!
Little bit of Super Mario Sunshine now methinks... with some MTV in the background. *Flicks on the channel* -Oooh No Doubt.
mmmm Gwen you are soooo fine erm back to the subject...More comments welcome chaps!
Deloratis i would maybe consider posting it in FOG chat and itll get more notice.
Unbeliever wrote:
> Excellent work! A take on Aliens. With newbies portrayed as life
> sucking parasites - I like it!
Not yourself Delorentis; you're pretty cool and you should be a reg. soon...
> Excellent work! A take on Aliens. With newbies portrayed as life
> sucking parasites - I like it!
Not yourself Delorentis; you're pretty cool and you should be a reg. soon...
Excellent work! A take on Aliens. With newbies portrayed as life sucking parasites - I like it!
I think I'll get working on one at some point...
I think I'll get working on one at some point...
what are u on about?
I wrote this after reading the WOOT thread. Please note that any names, resemblances etc etc are non-intentional. This was inspiration - it is raw and just flowed. n00bs - no raw deal, hehe, you happen to be the most feared thing in the universe. Perversely, something to be proud of.
Kidding aside - I hope you enjoy it. And then go and sit in a dark room.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Drip. Drip. Dark foetid air combines with sweat and fear.
*phsssssss* steam gasps from the cracks in the reactors side. Spinning like a cat he crouches and listens. Nothing.
Bodies litter the floor, their tortuous contortions in the geiger-esque scene falling onto his seared retina's. Brain refusing to compute what is before him he mentally recites the mantra that has kept him alive for the past 48 hours “Family, friends, Christmas, Nintendo…Family, friends-“
*blip*.......*blip*. The hair stands on the back of his neck, the motion sensors monotone screaming down his spine, adrenal glands pouring their contents into his veins. Closer still. *blip*..*blip* knuckles whiten as he flicks the full auto on the Smartgun, and feels it writhe in his grip locking on to the target.
Sweat burns his eyes, but not a blink - that would be fatal.
*phssssssssss*...
It rips towards him, cat like and with terrifying speed, it's hive mind driving it on with insane chittering. It has seen food, a host even - and it has called others, he knows it. The terror, hot and raw jerks his arms up - he squeezes the trigger and feels the weapon take control, it's servos rock his body into position. The muzzle flashes and spits it magnesium death in bright orange streaks. The n00b takes each round in the thorax, gouts of green acid streaking the walls. The 'guns violent harvest ends abrubtly. 15 rounds in 100th a second...with only 200 left it's gonna be a long haul.
The blips die with the Creature's last spasms.
It was not our choice. Circumstances and a terrible mistake have resulted in this, the dusk of humanity. The Creatures are thriving and the human hosts they use to build their ranks dwindling - only a few outposts remain, clear from the pestilence and shielded by massive energy draining domes, powered by human electrical banks. Just 20 years ago it would have been abhorred, the very idea of it sickening. But, without the ability to mine for fuel or man the oil pumps that power the stations - mankind had to look to himself for a renewable energy source. Generations will never see a life, enjoy the little things like Christmas, Nintendo or family life. They came and took the child you had, and you knew it had to be. 1 in 2 went. But he did not believe this was the only way. He had heard from the few who ventured away from the domes and returned that the Creatures used a power -it warmed their egg farms and sustained their existence. It was given the moniker "Forumma" by the pioneer scientist W. Hitestripe. By heating it slowly it changed it's molecular structure much like sulphur - too far and it became highly unstable. Too little and it was simply inert. Strike it just right though, and a few cubic centimeters could power a city for a hour - before it evaporated. Or a war to destroy them.
The Creatures had brought it with them, secreting it in vast quantities during their metamorphosis. The larvae also known as a Christanious, was every bit as hell bent on procreation as the adult drone. It emerges from the egg sac and, alerted by struggling, attaches itself to the host like a parasite. Leeching all it can from host it spams an egg deep into the host bowl cavity. 2 days later the host, starved from the growth of a terror impossible to comprehend, wakes to the "kicking" of it's hellish new born. The drone claws it's way out and the hive mind welcomes it. It may become a Gerrid, an egg laying machine - or it will be a faithful n00b, gathering hosts and secreting forumma.
“This is all we know…” he was told. But he knew better. They knew more. They knew his parents and family had been taken by the Creatures. They knew their lives ended miserably and violently in some dark hole. They knew this ate him every day of his life. They knew he would go, venturing into their Web armed to the teeth and itching to discover their weakness – a way to harness the Forumma. They knew he would go…
Here. An assumed location of a Gerrid. His team airlifted and dropped in a state of the art APC could only hope they would leave alive. As it was, Unbeliever, Tilta and Snipe were all that survived of his colleagues. They waited for him, hollow eyes and knife edged sanity in the dropship circling this site. Just yesterday Tilta had found a friend, his body mutilated as the Creature had erupted from it. Smashed. Delorentis had pushed him aside and bent to check the tag on the bloodstained uniform. B. Dandy. Tilta wrecked. The other members of the team visibly shaken.
That was just the start of it all.
They had made their slow way through the compound, signs of struggles visible, barricades built, stale fear still hanging in the air. And everywhere strands of Forumma. But not a single body.Yet. Delorentis ordered the formation, “loose deuce”. It allowed shifting of positions, and a melee style of fighting, but his men were conditioned. Hours and hours of combat training had sharpened reflexes. The Ninty’s knew that a back covered, meant their own would be too.
Unbeliever took point – the massive smartgun circling his body like a lover doing the waltz - it’s muzzle seeking a target. The team worked their way through corridors, nerves twanging with every new door or corner. It got darker. Sources of light had been covered by Forumma, edges and corners filled by it. Tunnels it seemed were a favourite with the Creatures and the dampness and heat increased. Delorentis gave the order “IR lads – filter for heat signatures above 45”. Swiftly the team activated their targeting systems, lowering the visor over the left or right eye. It was hot –the filtering did something for the myriad of heat sources but…still very difficult. Not a sign of the Creatures anywhere. Snipe started some nervous chatter – it was his way of cooling off but it was not helping. Cloying claustrophobia set in, two abreast. This was not good…
*Blip* oh mother of god… “Is she still alive?” Frantically Snipe grabbed the women’s arm, tipped the head back and looked into the eyes…she looked dead, cold. But something had moved. We all knew then. But some had never seen it. They wish now they never saw it. Torched before it could scuttle off, the n00b hung from her body, squeals pealing through the compound… Delorentis released the trigger, the flame of the blue pilot light glittering in his eyes.
*Blip*…*Blip* “I got six, can’t tell above or below – where the hell!!!!” *Blip* “I have two!! Boss what we gonna do… can’t see ‘em…” Barking the command to Back to Back, Delorentis unleashed the beast in the smartgun –Unbeliever’s whining servoes telling him he had done the same. And the roof crawled. Dropping from the roof, hissing and screaming the n00b horde fell into the middle of the crew, staccato gunfire punctuating the confusion. Screaming obscenities, Tilta lay about with his flamer while Snipe backed up against him, his carbine chattering death into the squirming mass. The marines were fighting hard but every so often a scream and one more crackle of static. Desperately calling for the men to fall back Delorentis spins to see Cookie lifted bodily into a vent his arms flailing. The world slows…treacle like he raises his side arm and looks into Cookies eyes and sees It… *crack* the pistol bucks in his hand. A better way to go.
Limping back to the APC with the hordes of hell in pursuit, his team decimated and broken he commanded them to go. He would do it alone – what would be one more in the thousands that had already died? Looking up at the Dropship’s howling engines he thinks of his family, friends, Christmas and Nintendo.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
And so ends the first installment. I may let you know if Delorentis saves the world in the new year. TTFN
:o)
Kidding aside - I hope you enjoy it. And then go and sit in a dark room.
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Drip. Drip. Dark foetid air combines with sweat and fear.
*phsssssss* steam gasps from the cracks in the reactors side. Spinning like a cat he crouches and listens. Nothing.
Bodies litter the floor, their tortuous contortions in the geiger-esque scene falling onto his seared retina's. Brain refusing to compute what is before him he mentally recites the mantra that has kept him alive for the past 48 hours “Family, friends, Christmas, Nintendo…Family, friends-“
*blip*.......*blip*. The hair stands on the back of his neck, the motion sensors monotone screaming down his spine, adrenal glands pouring their contents into his veins. Closer still. *blip*..*blip* knuckles whiten as he flicks the full auto on the Smartgun, and feels it writhe in his grip locking on to the target.
Sweat burns his eyes, but not a blink - that would be fatal.
*phssssssssss*...
It rips towards him, cat like and with terrifying speed, it's hive mind driving it on with insane chittering. It has seen food, a host even - and it has called others, he knows it. The terror, hot and raw jerks his arms up - he squeezes the trigger and feels the weapon take control, it's servos rock his body into position. The muzzle flashes and spits it magnesium death in bright orange streaks. The n00b takes each round in the thorax, gouts of green acid streaking the walls. The 'guns violent harvest ends abrubtly. 15 rounds in 100th a second...with only 200 left it's gonna be a long haul.
The blips die with the Creature's last spasms.
It was not our choice. Circumstances and a terrible mistake have resulted in this, the dusk of humanity. The Creatures are thriving and the human hosts they use to build their ranks dwindling - only a few outposts remain, clear from the pestilence and shielded by massive energy draining domes, powered by human electrical banks. Just 20 years ago it would have been abhorred, the very idea of it sickening. But, without the ability to mine for fuel or man the oil pumps that power the stations - mankind had to look to himself for a renewable energy source. Generations will never see a life, enjoy the little things like Christmas, Nintendo or family life. They came and took the child you had, and you knew it had to be. 1 in 2 went. But he did not believe this was the only way. He had heard from the few who ventured away from the domes and returned that the Creatures used a power -it warmed their egg farms and sustained their existence. It was given the moniker "Forumma" by the pioneer scientist W. Hitestripe. By heating it slowly it changed it's molecular structure much like sulphur - too far and it became highly unstable. Too little and it was simply inert. Strike it just right though, and a few cubic centimeters could power a city for a hour - before it evaporated. Or a war to destroy them.
The Creatures had brought it with them, secreting it in vast quantities during their metamorphosis. The larvae also known as a Christanious, was every bit as hell bent on procreation as the adult drone. It emerges from the egg sac and, alerted by struggling, attaches itself to the host like a parasite. Leeching all it can from host it spams an egg deep into the host bowl cavity. 2 days later the host, starved from the growth of a terror impossible to comprehend, wakes to the "kicking" of it's hellish new born. The drone claws it's way out and the hive mind welcomes it. It may become a Gerrid, an egg laying machine - or it will be a faithful n00b, gathering hosts and secreting forumma.
“This is all we know…” he was told. But he knew better. They knew more. They knew his parents and family had been taken by the Creatures. They knew their lives ended miserably and violently in some dark hole. They knew this ate him every day of his life. They knew he would go, venturing into their Web armed to the teeth and itching to discover their weakness – a way to harness the Forumma. They knew he would go…
Here. An assumed location of a Gerrid. His team airlifted and dropped in a state of the art APC could only hope they would leave alive. As it was, Unbeliever, Tilta and Snipe were all that survived of his colleagues. They waited for him, hollow eyes and knife edged sanity in the dropship circling this site. Just yesterday Tilta had found a friend, his body mutilated as the Creature had erupted from it. Smashed. Delorentis had pushed him aside and bent to check the tag on the bloodstained uniform. B. Dandy. Tilta wrecked. The other members of the team visibly shaken.
That was just the start of it all.
They had made their slow way through the compound, signs of struggles visible, barricades built, stale fear still hanging in the air. And everywhere strands of Forumma. But not a single body.Yet. Delorentis ordered the formation, “loose deuce”. It allowed shifting of positions, and a melee style of fighting, but his men were conditioned. Hours and hours of combat training had sharpened reflexes. The Ninty’s knew that a back covered, meant their own would be too.
Unbeliever took point – the massive smartgun circling his body like a lover doing the waltz - it’s muzzle seeking a target. The team worked their way through corridors, nerves twanging with every new door or corner. It got darker. Sources of light had been covered by Forumma, edges and corners filled by it. Tunnels it seemed were a favourite with the Creatures and the dampness and heat increased. Delorentis gave the order “IR lads – filter for heat signatures above 45”. Swiftly the team activated their targeting systems, lowering the visor over the left or right eye. It was hot –the filtering did something for the myriad of heat sources but…still very difficult. Not a sign of the Creatures anywhere. Snipe started some nervous chatter – it was his way of cooling off but it was not helping. Cloying claustrophobia set in, two abreast. This was not good…
*Blip* oh mother of god… “Is she still alive?” Frantically Snipe grabbed the women’s arm, tipped the head back and looked into the eyes…she looked dead, cold. But something had moved. We all knew then. But some had never seen it. They wish now they never saw it. Torched before it could scuttle off, the n00b hung from her body, squeals pealing through the compound… Delorentis released the trigger, the flame of the blue pilot light glittering in his eyes.
*Blip*…*Blip* “I got six, can’t tell above or below – where the hell!!!!” *Blip* “I have two!! Boss what we gonna do… can’t see ‘em…” Barking the command to Back to Back, Delorentis unleashed the beast in the smartgun –Unbeliever’s whining servoes telling him he had done the same. And the roof crawled. Dropping from the roof, hissing and screaming the n00b horde fell into the middle of the crew, staccato gunfire punctuating the confusion. Screaming obscenities, Tilta lay about with his flamer while Snipe backed up against him, his carbine chattering death into the squirming mass. The marines were fighting hard but every so often a scream and one more crackle of static. Desperately calling for the men to fall back Delorentis spins to see Cookie lifted bodily into a vent his arms flailing. The world slows…treacle like he raises his side arm and looks into Cookies eyes and sees It… *crack* the pistol bucks in his hand. A better way to go.
Limping back to the APC with the hordes of hell in pursuit, his team decimated and broken he commanded them to go. He would do it alone – what would be one more in the thousands that had already died? Looking up at the Dropship’s howling engines he thinks of his family, friends, Christmas and Nintendo.
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And so ends the first installment. I may let you know if Delorentis saves the world in the new year. TTFN
:o)