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The green smog coated the battlefield like a cloud of chlorine enveloping its victims. I stood still for a moment, caught in a rare moment of awe as the green cloud of gas fell over the field. Although my view was distorted by the dark green visor of the gasmask I could still imagine the true image of this from someone else’s eyes. I took a deep breath in through the air filter and strolled towards the fog-shrouded zone.
The soft, faint hum of the communicator in my ear was momentarily drowned out by the terrible, nightmarish screams of the poor individuals caught in the chemical combination that was unleashed in today’s warfare. And to think they had been warned that this could become biological warfare. Smiling as my body entered the green boundary that was a stark contrast to the clear air that halted at the very hint of colour.
I drew my sword-like gun and strolled through the lethal gas, kicking dead bodies out of my way as I made my way to my main objective. I had been told that “checkmate” was only seconds away. It didn’t take long for me to emerge out the other side. I could only imagine how my thin, white clothed figure must look as if I were born from the solid green behind me. I was wearing a white top and skirt with thick white tights and shoes around my legs. I was also wearing a long white trench-coat-like coat which reached down to my ankles, and had an intricate design across the hem which barely stood out in its cream colour. I had a shock of long black hair that fell down to about my shoulder blades. My eyes were a dark green but were covered with black coloured contact lenses. The contacts gave the impression of dark, deep, soulless eyes that would be an effective intimidating technique.
A confident squad were seemingly born from the holes they hid in only moments before. They took up a defensive position, firing their weapons. But their rifle and sub machine gun bullets simply dropped from the air as they came into contact with the special electromagnetic shield that was revolutionary in modern warfare technology. I smiled broadly, slowly unclipping my gasmask and throwing it aside. The gas behind me had started dissipating, its initial mission accomplished. I took up aim and pulled the trigger. As soon as the bullet left the barrel, I was off towards the group.
The first man fell when the bullet pierced his skull; the second was slain by the hand of my sword-like gun. On the gun was a long machete-like bayonet which stretched from the trigger to the tip of the masterly crafted metal. I twirled, pirouetting like I had done long ago in ballet, and lashed out at the third as he desperately tried to reload his bolt-action rifle. Three down, two to go. I turned on them as they started to turn, abandoning their weapons, and rout from the battle. I took up aim again and both died within seconds. Both were killed by a bullet through the back straight through the heart. I had bullets which pierced bone.
“Checkmate has been achieved. ‘Rook’ has taken the ‘Black King’. Move on to the next starting area.” The voice was calm, even, almost synthetic as it came through the earpiece. I sighed loudly, obviously dissatisfied. I hated it when I didn’t get to eliminate the king. I frowned and rested the flat top of the gun against my shoulder and set off, my chest puffed out and my legs moving in a marching formation despite my loneliness and isolation. I liked to march when victory was achieved, even if I was unpleased. At least I wasn’t part of the clean-up crew which came in afterwards to occupy the area and take out any rebels. This brought a flicker of a smile to my face for a second as I thought about those tortured rebels back in our Motherland.
| Bravo, yet again. Kio, you inspire me to write in my RP's and I find myself jelous of your writing abilities. ||| Posted on 2009-11-11 00:00:00 | by Scaredheart | [ Reply to This ] |