Story Welcome to Medium

[MarinesThePsychoticReaper]

[CHAPTER 1: POST MORTEM.]
(Warning story contains: Gore, topics of death, mental health.)

Welcome brother, or perhaps sister. I have no idea who will stumble upon this recording. Whoever it is, I hope you can carry my story as I have carried many of the people that I've met.

My memory before arriving to this place is quite hazy. I remember vividly sitting inside a car. Glass shards lingering in the air moving slowly like little stars. The flow of time seemed to be different back then. In that moment it felt like eons have passed.
I kept looking out of the car window into the black abyss before me, as the headlights ripped through the darkness showing the rocks bellow. Blood that was running down my forehead made it hard to focus on anything else, as it kept sticking my right eye shut. In the same brief moment, I looked to my right. A man faceless sat beside me. He kept screaming something but I could not make out anything intelligible. Eventually he patted me on my shoulder before darkness unlike what I've ever seen before overtook my vision.


And then? Dark prison swallowed me whole, endless in its design. To me it felt like an eternity. I thought to myself, that we keep worrying about the wrath of God, heaven and hell. About the devil and his worst punishments.
And yet there was nothing, it was more terrifying and punishing than whatever else religion and spiritual belief had in store for us. Time so precious, extended to infinity. Ironic it was, really. We chase all the tiny things in life, not realizing how short it all is. Just when it all ends, just when it's all beyond our grasp. Then we begin to regret certain things.


I was certain that this was all that awaited me. After all, I witnessed my own moments of death. Before my lungs started taking in air, time and time again. I've Landed on something. My senses numb, from After escaping the pitch dark prison started to wake up slowly.
My nose picked up the stench of rotting meat. I felt pain, something that my body so desperately longed to feel. A proof of existence. Taking my time I slowly opened my eyes to the unknown surrounding I found myself in.

My eyes revealed a dirty industrial storage room, filled with hooks and many tools for preparing meat. Setting my sights above, I saw a rusty vent shaft looming over my head.
I felt around underneath my still numb body, feeling around old worn clothes and wet decaying flesh underneath my fingertips. Looking down, I quickly screamed in terror. I landed on a mass grave of many cadavers, laid one on top of another. I tried to stand on my feet, before falling right onto the cold concrete floor, smashing my face against the ground In the process. That seemed to help my senses with waking up, as my hearing picked up steps from the large door in front of me. They were distant, but started drawing closer to my position. In panic, I layer myself on top of the pile, hoping that whoever comes inside doesn't find me, or at least doesn't notice my presence. I held my breath and wait.

Soon enough two men entered the room chatting with one another.

"It's good that we stayed longer, you think it's an actual new arrival this time?"

"Never can be too sure, if it is another sleeper, we'll just tell the Elder so. Now take this stick and help me out."

I kept wondering what Elder they could mean, or what sleeper in this context means. Yet I couldn't reveal myself, not yet. I didn't know their intentions.

They starting prodding the cadavers with a metal pipe, around me before one of them tapped me.

"This one looks new."

"Now that you mention it, you're righ-"

Before he could finish his sentence I ripped the pipe out of his grasp scaring the both men on the spot.
First one wore a blue beanie, welder goggles and a scarf to match the beanie. He had a tatered red shirt with a faded out logo, unrecognizable to what I knew and short cargo pants with many patches.

The other had a pair of ski goggles, a large overcoat with as much if not more patches in comparison to the cargo pants. He carried a messenger bag and the coat just barely obscured his gray jeans that bore the self made shin guards made out of scrap metal.

They immediately rose their arms, screaming almost in unison.

"We surrender and mean you no harm!"

Keeping the odds in my head I eased up a little and asked them where I was at the time.

"You're in a place where newcomers fall in. In simple terms." The one in the blue beanie said.

It didn't make sense besides the shaft that I saw earlier. Which I promptly asked about.
"Where does this shaft lead? I imagine this is the place your so called newcomers fall in."

"We don't really know, besides the fact that some wake up and the rest stays like the ones behind you. Dead. The Elder knows more. He's been here longer than us." Said the other one.

"We can take you to him, it should be safer than here. What do you say."

Weighing my options, with them I had a better chance of finding out what is going on. Still suspicious I asked them for their names.
The one in the blue beanie introduced himself as Charles riviette, the other one, was Jack Anderson. We settled down on 'River' and 'Jackie' as their nicknames. Me forgetting my own name, settled with 'Scar' for the time being. Correlating to the large scar going across my face. Which was very rare to see, according to what they said.

We gathered around our things, however little there was to take and embarked outside the room. Into the sand covered hallway leading to the exit. The sky outside, clear yet vividly orange. Revealed mountains of sand and ruined buildings all around us. With red towers looming over the horizon. I knew wherever I ended up, wasn't the earth I knew.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

 

[MarinesThePsychoticReaper]

[CON]

It's been a while since my last recording, I hope you're doing well. The constant shelling made it impossible to record you see.

We were waking amongst debris of the sand covered towns. Into a small fort in the distance.
River told me about what the local area.
We were currently in the Boneyard as many called it. Seemingly endless desert, that housed decaying husks of our previous world. Some local yet rusted signs were from the 50's or 60's. They weren't really sure.
The fort we were going into went by "Fort Harrison" to the few unfortunate souls that were stuck in this hellacape.
One of the few lasting settlements in the area.

Finally we arrived before a large scrap metal gate, seemingly welded together with any metal sheets the builders could find and a set of heavy duty metal spikes made out of plumbing pipes. The walls were concrete with some holes simply being covered up by red bricks. Showing resourcefulness as well as degree of potential desperation.
We slowly went through the gates under the watchful eye of the crossbow armed guards, mostly composed of old folk and teenagers, no older than 17. They wore modified football pads and self made helmets, of terrible quality.
Their clothes ragged and stitched together where they possibly could. Some torns in clothing were fixed up with duck tape and dirty rags stitched onto the hole.
Those people had it rough, and it had me thinking the entire time.
"What awaits me in this place?"
We always wondered how afterlife looks but never like this.

Walking through the streets we were surrounded by shacks of many shapes and sizes. Build out of any materials that one could utilize, that wasn't needed for anything else. All differentiated by various signs sanctioning off areas into specialized ones. Despite it's rough nature, it gave a semblance of order. Regardless of how small.

We stopped in front of the old fire station, renovated for porpoises of a base of operations in the fort, with it being the tallest structure to be seen from each corner of the fort.
Charles turned to me, with a sigh of relief.
"This is where we part ways, take the steps up to the second floor and ask for the guy in charge. They'll know that you're new."

We shook hands with my two companions and they quickly disappeared behind the local shacks. I heeded their advice, and went inside. My nose immediately picked up the smell of wet paint, so strong it gave me a headache. Taking a deep sigh I made my way into the second floor of this three story building noticing a ramp going down the stairs. Not thinking much about it, I stepped through the door into the room behind it.

I was quickly greeted by a man with red hair and glasses sitting behind the desk, acting as a secretary of sorts. He had a white office shirt and seemed like the most normal out of all the folk around here.
"I'm new around here, and uh, the boys told me that I should see the boys."

He nodded few times flipping though his papers. He pointed to the nearby bench as he made his way into one of the rooms near him. Not wanting to be pushy, I sat down waiting for the secretary to return.
After few minutes he did.
"He's able to see you. Come inside that room."
Pointing to the room he just came from. I got off my seat getting finally to meet the man finally able to answer some of my questions.
What awaited me behind that door though, was not what I expected. A room full of maps, papers, plannings, assembly stations and loose ammunition sprinkled around the room and a military veteran, sitting on a wheelchair on an old oak desk.
The veteran as clearly in his 50's, with a set of gray like ash hair and a little brighter unkempt beard.

"Welcome to fort Harrison, New guy. I'm Andrew Harrison, the man running this place. Come on, sit down."
Not wanting to be rude in the slightest, I sat down.

"That's better, you want some coffee perhaps? Maybe something stronger to drink?" He asked.
"I'd rather get some answers first if I may."
"Ho, you got some backbone, asking what you want directly. I like that, tell me what do they call you kid?"
"Your boys called me 'Scar' so that's what we'll stick to for now."
"I'd say a different name would fit ya, but if it's what you want to use. That's what we'll use."
"Alright, Andrew, let's cut to the chase. Where the fuck am I?"

The old man reached into the desk, withdrawing a cigar. Lighting it up, before releasing a huge puff of smoke.
"Listen, you want the short story or a long one?"
"Simplify it for me."
"So the short one then. Basically you, me and any other guy around is in a fucked up version of the after life. All the folk that get here seem to have died in tragic circumstances, where they looks like to me got another chance at life. But between you and me, I'd rather be dead than deal what we have to deal with on daily basis."
"Why did I fall out of a vent if that's the case?"
"To put it lightly, this place is a fucking cruel joke. There are special places that get people to travel through it to end up here. But here is the kicker, the reason why woke up and the folk that was around you probably didn't was because this place operates on it's own set of rules."
"What kind of rules?"
"Can't tell you too much, to keep you safe from yourself but there are two that you should keep in mind. People don't die in this place like they usually would, and that If you see a monstrosity looking like out of a horror movie, you better run and not get caught."
"What? Monsters, is this some kind of joke?"
The man gritted his teeth, for a moment, looking at me with his soulless eyes before giving a sigh.
"Look, I don't kid about those things, especially after seeing so many of them take my people. And every time they take, they come back in higher numbers. You wouldn't want to shoot someone that is wearing your friend's twisted face, in a mutilated body. Still walking despite it not making any sense as to why."

I slowly take my time processing the information, but it is just too much. With the addition of my growing headache and weariness I needed some time to think on this. Maybe I'm still dreaming, because none of it felt real.

"Hello? Anybody here? Don't go spacing out on me kid."
"I guess fatigue is getting to my head, it's rather difficult to process all of this"
"It's alright, tell ya what. Go over to the secretary boy, Lloyd. Let him know to send you off to some free quarters so you could rest."
"Allright, thanks for the information. I'll be heading out for now, I'll speak to you tomorrow."
"Aye, knock yourself out."

I waved the veteran goodbye before heading through the door. The secretary, turned his gaze towards me as I left Harrisons office.
"How did it go?"
"Decent, I still got few more questions but, for now I'd like to rest. Is there a space around with a bed?"
"Yes, please follow me."

I let Lloyd take the lead as he went downstairs, opening a basement section, before opening one of the doors, revealing a room with a bed, wardrobe and small window peaking outside. It was already nighttime. My senses too wary to worry about the place I was lead to, caused me to fall down on the bed, and soon fall asleep.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

 

[MarinesThePsychoticReaper]

[CON]

I was suddenly awaken by the yell of the local guards, early in the morning.
"Every combat capable man to the wall! The rot is back!"

Soon after River busted through the door with a pipe pistol in his hand and a makeshift crossbow hanging on the sling from his side.
"Scar, we'll need a hand with this, put your shoes on and follow me."
Haphazardly putting my shoes on in my half awake state I asked him what was going on.
"To give you a very brief explanation we're under siege by the local monstrosities, and we'll need every man on board to repell them if we want to have another day to live. Now let's go."
He pushed the crossbow and few arrows into my hand as we stormed out of the old fire station in the direction of the walls.
I didn't want to partake in the fighting, however seeing the distressed look on Charles's face, I couldn't say no.

We soon enough got onto the walls where Guards stood both young and old, stabbing, burning and shooting the arms that were trying to grab them over the wall. The arms barely had any meat on the bone, they were horrifyingly thin and pale, and the fingers were unnaturally long, way past normal finger size, turned into pale talons attempting to grab it's prey.
I quickly aimed my crossbow into the dusky fog outside the concrete walls, noticing tall men, with unnaturally long slender bodies, stretched clothes that barely kept themselves from ripping apart.
They had no eyes, and they faces looked like they have been crushed half way by a hydraulic press. Uneven. I screamed as I fired the crossbow directly into the head of one of the monsters. Piercing it through. Though the creature didn't care it was even attacked, turning towards me. Slowly ripping the crossbow bolt from the side of its face, as it unhinged it's jaw to reveal a eerie smile, of many uneven teeth. I took a step back and tripped, in shock as to what I have witnessed. Soon Lloyd with more armored folk got onto the footing with dynamite tied to their bolts. He helped me up as River prepared a torch, before running by them and lighting them up one by one. Starting the explosive barrage.

I stood there watching in awe, before the glorious sight was interrupted by one of the fellow men was pierced by a huge bone javelin, letting out a traumatizing scream as he fell down. I still to this day hear it in my dreams. I rushed to help him, but I was panicking. Jackie ran by and he pushed be off to the side. He dumped a small sack of salt onto the wound before wrapping it with a bandage, before he called two other men to help carry him.

River tapped me on the shoulder, and told me to focus. He handed me a spear and told me to try get any creatures off crossing the wall. I quickly obliged as I saw small creatures, size of a child. Clawing their bodies up the wall, I started stabbing the first three that got close, but soon three turned to five, then fifteen, twenty five. They were just hordes approaching covered by the thick dusk fog that sat on the ground, before I knew it. River ran by and pushed be off the walls, before being grabbed by one of the tall monsters toppled over the wall, into the hordes. That was the last thing I saw before my head hit the ground.


I blacked out.
Only to wake up many hours later inside my room. With Andrew sitting in his chair beside my bed, reading a book.
I slowly sat myself on the bed, grasping my head that still had a trembling headache.

"What happend?"

Andrew put down his book and looked at the wall.
"This was one of the monster attacks I described. We lost twenty two. Sixteen wounded and about just as much ready to defend in case another attack."
He signed, sniffing to himself.
"And we lost Charles.... he'll probably be back with another wave."

Another wave? Wait, no.
That can't be.

"Harrison, is he one of... them now?"
"I don't know for sure, but I think in due time he'll be transformed."
"Harrison, you need to tell me what in the God damn are we dealing here."
"And you think you're ready for that truth?"
"Harrison it's not time for this shit, for fuck sake!"

He grabbed me by shirt and looked me in the eyes.
"You have no fuckin idea how much layers of deep shit I and everyone fucking is. Pipe down your fucking attitude."
I grabbed his wrist.
"And in order to prevent what the fuck just happend I need to know what I'm dealing with here."

He released his grip on my shirt, as I have released mine of his wrist.
"You want to know, sure. But don't complain to me later you didn't sign up for this."
He cleared his throat.
"This is Medium, a place where your mental state dictates whether you live or die. Those things that attacked us? That's the Rot, or the rotten. Husks of former people that were taken and changed by worms. You can call it bullshit, but that's how it is. The rot only wants to grow, and we are the only means it can do that. You understand? Those fucking creatures are gonna keep coming until they take every fucking one of us. You, me and just as you know. Charles. There, are you happy now? Are you gonna now have a mental breakdown and die on me?"


I was shocked, realizing that I needed up with more information than I wanted to hear. It was once more too much to bear, but I knew giving up would mean sacrifice of River would go to waste.
"Alright, so Harrison, what are our options?"
He leaned back in his wheelchair and looked at the wall once more.
"Not many, but honestly only one comes to mind."
"What is it?"
"Send a scout to make contact with the FEA, or the Red band militia."
"FEA? Red band militia? Who are they?"
"F.E.A or better known as the Far East Army is one of the biggest forces, fighting the rot in this whole place. Red band militia is on the other hand a more local mercenary army. If we want to survive we need help of either one."

He took a cigar out of his pocket, before lighting it up. Feeding his smoking habit once more.
"This is why I have a request Scar. Since you haven't found a role in our fort yet, I need someone to make contact."
"That person has to be me huh?"
"Listen, I can't spare other boys, this attack hit us really hard. You're new though."
"So what after today you expect me to go there and get myself killed just because you're afraid of loosing more men?"
"It's not like that, it's just that I have no other options on the table for this moment. Think on it and give me an answer."

I was furious, as Harrison basically wanted me to go out there on a suicide mission, he didn't say it directly but something said in the back of my mind. That this is implied. I laid down and went back to sleep, trying to think of a solution for this situation.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

 

[MarinesThePsychoticReaper]

[CON]
[CHAPTER 2: BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH]

It's been few days, I got drunk so don't blame me for inconsistencies in this tape, in comparison to previous ones. Where did I left at? Ah yes.


I slept through the night exploring the possibilities of my choices in my dreams, yet I was no closer to figuring out what I wanted. I could expirence and see what this world has to offer, or I could die a horrible death by both staying and going. There was no good way out of this, no matter how much I looked at this. Ultimately though going seemed like better of two bad options, by going there was a chance I could survive with someone stronger than the residents of this fort. Plus I don't think Harrison would give me a choice either way. It was an illusion of a choice, to see if I willingly risk my life for him. Damn that old man.

Regardless once daybreak hit I prepared myself however I could. I took any metal bits, and tools I could find and stuffed them into my pockets. I had no guarantees that Harrison would give me something before letting me go. I ended up with few bolts, nuts, a sharp blade and a stretch of wire. Maybe if I won't get to use it, I might be able to trade it for something valuable, I thought to myself.

Suddenly Lloyd arrived at my doorstep, with two cups of coffee in hand.
"Harrison is waiting for you upstairs, in the meantime enjoy this coffee."

I took the coffee off his hands, and thanked him for making it in the first place. While I disliked Harrison, Lloyd was just doing his job to the best of his ability. I couldn't find it within myself to fault a man like that.

Heeding to his advice I made my way to Harrison's office, a man in self made ghillie suit and ragged hood, was there first. Upon noticing I dropped in, Harrison perked up.

"Ah, Scar, this is my friend Ragman. Man of the wastes. Knows the area better than me actually. Say you made your mind yet?"
I reluctantly responded "Yes, I have."
Knowing this was a non question. The man in front of me was brought in as sort of guide. My only question was why send me, when you had a man ready here to go?

"That's good to hear, tell me what did you choose?"
"You and me Harrison knows what has to be done, and I see you took the liberty of acting before my final decision."
"Not at all, I was just conversing with my friend here you see, but he could show you the nearest town to get over to one of the gates, and try to find one of the groups we need."
"Uh huh, sure. So what will you want me to do once I head out?"
He smiled with the most dishonest smile possible and said.
"Once you get into Rion Falls, you'll want to look for the guy called Ringo, alternatively Rocky. One of the two. They'll know what to do next."
"And we can't ask our neighbors for help, because?"
"They got their own problems, plus I'm not in the best graces with their leader."
I left a big sigh through my mouth, nodding.
"Alright before me and your ragman friend head out, is there anything prepared for our journey? I want to get going as soon as possible."

He snapped his fingers reaching out from underneath his desk, putting on it a backpack with a grappling hook, attached to about one meter roll of rope, a single barrel shotgun with yellow shells on the side. Whole four of them.

"Here, a sort of a parting gift from me. Here's a single shot, single barrel shotgun. With four slugs prepared, another one being already in the chamber. Beware not to put it back on your backpack with the hammer cocked backwards. To avoid unnecessary injuries."
The friend of Harrison, Ragman finally chimed in, with a ragged raspy old voice.
"The grappling hook will be necessary to cross few spots safely, that was added by my request."

Surprised to the presence of the grizzled man of the wastes that I have almost forgotten about, I nodded to myself few times. My chances looked much better than previously. Which gave me some hope.

"Before we depart, anything I should know, mister Ragman?"
"That the monsters of the wastes are attracted by sound. At a long distance most don't see much, if you don't make rapid movements, but if you speak loudly, you'll always have their attention."

Making the mental note of that I looked inside the backpack before putting it on, which revealed three cans of various soups as well as few bottles of water. At least Harrison doesn't want to let me leave empty handed, so there's a good chance he honestly wants me to return alive, or in a state good enough to deliver what he needs.
Ragman looked at me approvingly, before saying.
"Get some rest, we'll be heading out at seven. Be sure to be ready by then."
I nodded before apologizing and taking my leave. I then walked by Lloyd which quietly murmured. "Don't get killed out there" as I was going downstairs back to my room. After all today will be the day I'll tackle the wastes head on.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

 

[MarinesThePsychoticReaper]

[CON]

At the dusk we gathered by the gates, with the old man. He flashed a grin at the sight of my arrival, while he made sure his bolt action rifle was loaded.
"It's been a while since I had a rookie like you under my wing."
"I just want to get going as soon as possible."
"That's fair kid. You'll come to understand that this place is kind of a dump in the middle of nowhere anyway. As for Harrison, he's old. He definitely cares, but he always sticks to his ways. So don't hold what he's doing against him too much. He doesn't know how to tackle situations differently."
I pondered about what Ragman said, as we walked outside the concrete walls into the red sands of the outer desert. Picking up distant ungodly wails and screams we headed towards nearest ruined city.
"Out here being on top of something gives you advantage, as long as you got a roof over your head. Some husks can fly. Rarely happens that you find a flying one."
"You know mister Ragman, how does this place not scare you? You seen those monsters up close, yet survived this long out here. How?"

He chuckled to himself.
"You see kid, I ain't no common Joe that you could find anywhere. I'm what they call a gambler. Did Harrison tell ya what they are?"
"No, he didn't had the chance to."
Noticing a pretty intact husk of an office building we carefully made our way up to the fourth floor as Ragman explained underway.
"You see, this place is an odd one. For starters there are fourth dimensional beings called Observers that dictate the ways of this land. Very rare to feel their presence, let alone to have a chance to speak with them. Don't think about it too much."
"Anyhow, gamblers are people that through special circumstances gain the ability to break the rules created by them in exchange for a certain thing. The more powerful ability, the higher the cost to use it. Hence why it's called 'Gambing'. It isn't rare for a gambler to loose their life just after discovering their ability."
"Huh, so how do I get my own Ragman?"
"After so many years I still haven't figured out the process, since every gambler has a different one."
He let's out a deep sigh
"Though Scar, you shouldn't try to become one, there are many that would kill you just for knowing about gamblers in general. So what you heard keep to yourself."
Concerned, I nodded to him.
After reaching a run down office room with a lot of space. We began making preparations. We blocked the doorway with desks, chairs and pots. Whatever was nearby. Then we placed down sleeping bags on the carpeted floor, and set up a small fireplace in one of the small small metal buckets littered across the janitors closet. After that I let Ragman be in the charge of the fire.
"You can go ahead and sleep, I'll keep watch."
"Alright, one more thing. How did you get along with Harrison?"
He laughed to himself a little bit, snorting a bit as he did.
"It was back when Harrison could walk. He had a band of mercenaries working with him, called the Blue Band Militia. We fought in collaboration with Blackjacks in the frozen wastelands many miles from here."
"Who are blackjacks?"
"Ah, they are an anarchist community of warriors, that decide their decision maker through an all out brawl between everyone. The last one standing gets to be the leader. Outside military action, they leave it to themselves to do what people want. So it's mostly an anarchist society."
"To be honest I never had any hope that someone could make this system work."
"Neither have I, yet they exist, and thrive."
"Anyhow, back to the story. We were in a old soviet metro system setting up an outpost so that merchants could arrive to the frontier and supply us with weapons, ammunition and food."
"However during a disagreement, blackjack turned on us. Before I could do anything, Harrison got shot in the back while running for cover. That paralyzed him. Me and a couple of boys went back with Harrison while the rest stayed. Eventually they formed their own faction, but it was a shell of what it used to be. Blackjacks won in the end. And us? I stayed with Harrison to build a community here, where no factions would bother us. In the beginning we were alright, but then I decided that I wanted to see other things and left."
He coughed few times before continuing.
"It seemed that it went downhill from there, for a period Harrison took to drinking, and got into fights with few old members of our crew, and before he got himself back together he was alone."
I scratched my neck, taking a big sigh. Initially I was pissed at him, in some regards I still am. But right now in this moment, I understood a little bit that Harrison hasn't had it easy. I felt bad for em. With those thoughts on my mind I fell asleep.

My dreams were very vivid that night, there wasn't anything of much importance or note. Besides me standing in front of a tree. Bigger than a flat. With people hanging from each branch. This wouldn't be the last time I see this image in my mind.

The older man woke me up in the morning hushing me quiet, as we got closer to the windows overwatching the streets bellow. That's when I heard grunts and yells of a band of clad men dressed in white robes, and white hoods. Fighting a bunch of husks with weird limbs, some had oversized talons, others had their forearms resemble the blade of a scythe. All of them jerking their bodies unnaturally. The hooded men lined up with shields and scrap swords. All throwing a swing forward with a quick step backwards, In a coordinated fashion. They kept stepping in for eachother to not give the beasts any time to rest. Soon enough the beasts were dealt with.
Ragman spoke quietly.
"Those are the Speakers, radical bunch. We'll wait until they pass through before we head out."
"How so?"
"They can somehow spot a gambler from far away, and if they do. Most of the time they bring them back and drown them in molten iron."
"That's not good."
"Exacly."

We backed away from the windows laying back down. Waiting for the Speakers to pass.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

 

[MarinesThePsychoticReaper]

[CON]

Eventually the hooded men, left the area, as Ragman let out a sigh of relief.
"You know, I'm in no form to fight them. Plus gunshots attract roaming husks."
I smiled, responding with a little bit of a joke.
"With that old rifle of yours? I'm surprised it haven't blown up yet."
He shook his head while responding to my smile with one of his own.
"This rifle and me are both reliable, as long as you won't overuse us. Heh."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind. So what now?"
Ragman scratched his forehead as he was packing our bags. I in the meantime stood watch overwatching the ruined streets bellow. The sight of hacked to pieces, horrifying monsters was a little bit of a relief.
"If I remember correctly, we are very close to Rushtown. A small hub of traders that provide for those that want to explore many underground complexes underneath the sand. They would be willing to take us in. At the same time if we know about it, so do the speakers. We'll have to be rather careful."
"Rushtown eh? Weird name for a settlement."
"It's because it was build upon an old car factory, which is still operational till this day. They put together all sorts of vehicles to accelerate passage though local wastes. For long distance travel though we use gates. You'll see one down the line, so no need to tell you about em now."
I nodded in acknowledgment as we started removing the barricade from the door. As we gotten closer and closer to the street level. The area begun getting progressively quieter. There wasn't no wind flowing through the ruins. Whilst just few minutes ago there was a strong wind blowing through the broken windows. We carefully moved to the reception desk. Taking a glance outside. Besides few ruined cars, and a pile of lifeless husks scattered, there was no life what so ever. It felt as if time itself froze.
I withdrawn my crossbow as me and ragman hugged the opposite sides of the wall, trying to visually cover as much space as we could. Finally reaching the edge of the windows, we received a loud warning through a megaphone.

"Travelers, step out and be judged out of your own volition. Or you'll be judged through force."

The old man,audibly mumbled "Damn it!" As we looked at one another trying to weigh our options. We slowly started to back out towards the stairs, before we were stopped in our tracks by a loud breach of the back door and a lot of footsteps. The stairs were out of the question. If we didn't want to get caught we would have acted fast. The buildings outside had an empty alleyway as well as few cars as cover leading into it.
Ragman screamed "Run!" running as fast he could outside. I quickly followed suit. From our flanks, hooded speakers appeared. All crossbows in hand. Some on street level, others on rooftops. They shot a volley trying to stop us dead in our tracks. Yet we kept sprinting while shooting very inaccurately to buy ourselves as much time as we could. It didn't take long for them to hit me in the shoulder. Causing me to slow down. Ragman finally got first to the alleyway as he started giving suppressive fire. To try and help me pass through.

At the time an army of footman with shields and swords emerged from the office building,quickly assembling in formation. We didn't care about that, and we got ourselves deeper into the alleyway, but this was our undoing. At the corner we turned. Were three men. Two in bulky sets of armor and another with his hood pulled down, revealing jet black hair. Looking through us with his sky blue eyes. He immediately assumed combat position, throwing his staff at Ragman before we could even have a chance to retreat. The old man was knocked to the ground as I was stuck with a palm strike to my chin, throwing me off balance as well. The leader looking man of the bunch then instructed his men to restrain us, as he went over to pick up his staff.

"You know, I really hate chasing after you heretics like rats. It used to be fun for a hundred times, but now that we hit couple of thousand amount it becomes more of a chore."
I yelled out at him.
"Who are you people? Why are you doing this?"
Trying to put up a farce.
He chuckled to himself as he did a little bow.
"We are the speakers of the gods. Ten fingers of observers. Upholders of their rule. Translators of their will. Or simply order of Holy Speakers. I'm quite surprised you don't know that. You must be quite new."
He kneeled down, near me, as his men cuffed Ragman.
"I find it quite troubling that such a new arrival, would be traveling with such a disgusting person."
He sighed, putting his hand on the arrow stuck to my shoulder.
"I hate when they corrupt impressionable minds into becoming one of them. But you wouldn't do that would you?"
He suddenly grabbed the arrow, jabbing it deeper, his eyes demanding an answer.
I screamed in agony, as Ragman finally screamed out.
"He has nothing to do with this, I found him in the middle of nowhere, and was gonna drop him off at the town. He doesn't know anything! Take me and spare him!"
He looked deep in my eyes.
"Is that true?"
I nodded few times, which caused him to release the grip on the arrow.
"I quite apologize then, we'll have one of my men patch you in a moment. However."
He stood up, approaching Ragman, that was laying on the ground with me, and sending a hard kick towards his jaw. Breaking it and few teeth, before sending another one, directed at his nose. Audibly breaking it.
"You absolute imbecile! Damn heretic! Why didn't you come out when I asked?
What you like risking the life's of others to save your own, you scumbag?"
With a mouthful of blood, as tears streamed down his cheeks, he responded.
"I was afraid of death."
Which lead the leading speaker to burst onto maniacal laughter.
"A dead man, fearing death. Hahaha."
He quickly shifted his face from laughter to anger.
"Remember that you died once already. You was given a second chance by our gods and spat on it. Do you think you get the right to fear death anymore? No, you don't you piece of shit."
He signaled his men, which promptly escorted the old man away
"Take this sorry excuse of a human being away. Also someone bring a surgical set."
Soon enough, someone came by with a doctor's bag. As he kneeled down next to me.
"Sorry about that, now let's fix that wound of yours shall we?"
I carefully nodded, as the hooded man helped me sit down.
"I'm Vindicator Alexander, but you can call me Alex. What's your name?"
He asked as he got a scalpel, tweezers, strange balm and a sewing kit.
"I-i don't remember my name, so I go by Scar."
He made an incision with a scalpel, from which I winced, sucking the air through my teeth. Using tweezers he removed the arrowhead. Before applying the balm and sewing the wound together.
I looked at him one last time, before the adrenaline rush I felt, finally wore down. Causing me to pass out next to him.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

 

[MarinesThePsychoticReaper]

[CON]

Afterwards, a vision overtook my consciousness. My body drifting in the darkest depths of my subconscious brain, approaching a shattered memory.
Soon I found myself in front of a burning building, my body so remarkably sore. Yet not in pain. In that memory I was looking down on my injured palms. They seemed so tiny in comparison to my current hands.
Soon enough a figure emerged from the fire, slowly approaching towards me. Their features were a blur, which caused me great headaches just trying to remember, the only things I was able to make out, was his body drenched in blood, and that white grin, stained by crimson red blood. Somehow standing out more than the one he was drenched in. He reached his hand to me trying to help me stand, when he was barely in any condition to stand himself. The only words that he spoke were 'Are you alright?'

Words that seemed so full of love, despite the malicious appearance of the figure in front of me. That is the last thing I remember before I'm cast back into the dark void of my mind. Slowly drifting towards light.

The sense of pain came back to me as soon as I opened my eyes, revealing a tent I was located in. I could feel myself rest against a comfy bed. Taking a sigh, I was finally able to relax. Although my brief moment of respite was cut short by the sound produced by flipping of pages. I slowly turned my head towards the noise, and there he was. Alexander sitting in a chair, reading a book. The cover must have been in Russian or some other language that used similar alphabetical symbols. He sat there in a back shirt, and those white pants that matched his robes.

"You're finally awake, that's good." He spoke, not taking his gaze off the book.
"I was quite worried, that you might give up. Luckily it was not the case."

I winced in pain trying to seat myself on the bed, however for the time being the pain was simply too unbearable to get up on my own. I slumped back onto the bed.

"Alexander... Where's the old man?"
He sighed, as if that's not something he wanted to hear first.
"If you must know, he's currently resting. However he's in no condition to see you."
"Why?"
"I won't tell you the details, however your friend refused do disclose the nature of his ability, which by protocol we are to get out of them by force. Don't worry, he's still alive."

Hearing those words I was Angry, Afraid and Sad all at the same time. I knew I had no chances of saving Ragman even if I wanted to without dying myself. A moment of silence filled the tent before I mustered enough courage to speak up.

"What will happen to him?"
He chucked to himself.
"If you need to know so much, I'll tell you. He'll be brought back to our headquarters and be put before trial."
"Do you plan on Killing him?"
"One of three things can happen, I won't lie. I myself don't know what the council will decide. But that old man either will be executed by immolation in molten Iron, sentenced to a work camp or join a dedicated death corps."

I thought hearing options, would make me ease up. But none of those things sound good and as I am right now. I won't be able to do anything. Damn it!

"The council is quite busy so putting that old man before trial can take up to few months. He'll be imprisoned but you'll be able to see him, that is if you make your way to the Bastion."
"The Bastion?"
"It's the biggest functioning megacity administrated by Speakers. Many travel gates away."

So there's hope or perhaps he's testing me. I can't tell. He speaks in such a cold manner, as if he's putting a mask on during a conversation.

He got himself up from his seat. Putting his robes back on.
"This is where we say goodbye. You're now in Rushtown. Locals should keep you safe."
Before I could tell him to wait, be walked out of the tent. I felt like my heart was being ripped to shreds. I didn't know what would happen to the old man if he leaves, but I wasn't in any condition to run after him. I wasn't sure if I was able to ever see him again if he leaves. I was so frustrated.
In the following days I recovered, while Alexander alongside the group of speakers were miles away. When I was finally able to walk, I got back my belongings. Which had a surprising addition. Ragman's rifle, along with twenty bullets. Perhaps this was Alexander's last gesture of Pity.
After our exchange I had a burning hatred for him, for bringing me so low, and doing such horrible things to an Old man that I was starting to see as a friend.

The posters outside the field hospitals inside the walls of the town gave me a direction. A chance to get some options.

The Red band Militia was Recruiting for a new expedition.
This was my road of getting payback. I just needed to play my cards right.

[TO BE CONTINUED]