Yankee
SporkoBug
Andre Valias
ERode
op2024
Noctis
ScreenAcne
Fetzen
Estylwen
Emberdawn2
Gun Team Clover
Brewery District - Underground
Mentions: @fluxAntonio Litwin. Interactions: None.
Puddle’s eye’s shot open. He was calm. If anything, he was confused. The morning was such an overwhelming nightmare he was terrified to sleep but he passed out the moment he fell into bed regardless. Hell, right now he even felt well rested. Spotting a clock, it was late night now.
He blinked away the sleep while looking around. The improvised barracks within the service tunnel were dry, warm, downright cozy even. Awash with warm amber light, the source came from a small fireplace with a pipe leading who knows where. It happily crackled in the corner of the room, flames lazily brushing against the grill.
Nearby sat Donkey wearing a headlamp with an enormous gun, tinkering away, while in the bunk beside him Snaptrap gently threw his hands around while rhyming, occasionally stopping to mutter ‘hell yeah’ or ‘that works’. Puddle got up quietly and moved toward the sound of running water. He found a root had broken through the wall and flowing from it the cleanest water he’d ever seen.
Beginning to fill a metal mug Snaptrap called out. “Don’t drink that. It’s not good for you.” Puddle looked at the water, then Snaptrap, scoffed and went to raise the mug to his lips. Before he could drink Snaptrap jumped up and slapped it out of his hands. “I’m serious. Breaker got weird drinking that shit.”
Donkey pitched in from the bunk room. “That’s just superstition.”
Snaptrap shot back. “You drink it then.”
Donkey’s hesitation and eventual grunt of defeat gave Puddle everything he needed to know. He poured the water out and walked back to the bunk room yawning, Snaptrap nudging him as he did. “Told you that you’d pass out straight away. Didn’t even dream, did ya?”
Puddle palmed back his hair and shook his head to confirm Snaptrap’s question. Donkey spoke out, attention still on the gun. “The dreams come later, much later.”
Snaptrap rolled his eyes. “Come on, kid’s been through enough. Don’t be all depressive and go on about all the dog shit that comes with the work.” He nudged Puddle again. “The perks outweigh it anyway. We don’t have to worry about bills and get just about everything we need and want through the smuggler runners.”
Snaptrap lit up as a one such perk crossed his mind. “Like more Noc burgers than you can imagine. I have to take you to the one nearby. Post battle burgs are best burgs.” He chuckled to himself and went back to rhyming, now trying to incorporate burgers into his nonsensical rambling.
Donkey turned around, the massive man speaking softer than his frame suggested possible. “How you feeling kid?”
Puddle tilted his head back and forth, assessing for any injury but only found the ache of a hard day’s work. “I think I’m ok.”
Donkey nodded, looked to the fire leaving the silence hang apart from Snaptrap’s lyrical efforts. Donkey eventually spoke, still staring into the fire. “You shouldn’t be here kid.”
Snaptrap went quiet. Puddle blinked. “What-. Dude I didn’t survive that just to get kicked to the kerb-!”
Donkey’s eye’s shot to Puddle. “Whoa settle. No. I meant-. You shouldn’t have been thrown into the fray like that. We usually drill the shit out of you guys first. Make sure you know what to do, have a fighting chance for the first day. We just… yesterday wasn’t normal, and there wasn’t any time to prepare you. Either of you-.” Donkey went quiet, collecting himself before concluding his thoughts. “I’m sorry.”
Puddle wasn’t sure how to take what was said. The mountain of a man sat there apologizing as if it was his fault. Puddle tried to find the words to put him at ease. It wasn’t your fault, we were just some dumb kids, but every time he tried to put words into the air his mind went back to staring into Dave’s cold, dead eyes again.
The fire burned, but the room felt cold. A recently bloodied rookie and long hardened veteran both shared the moment. A needless death in a situation cocked up by a shit call to send him and Dave in. Antonio’s call. Beginning to find the words he needed to say Snaptrap interrupted, leaning in, eyes wide. “You got an apology from Donkey.”
Puddle tried to lean away as Snaptrap stared into his eyes. “Donkey doesn’t apologize to anyone. He’s a cunt!”
Donkey promptly pelted a book at Snaptrap, getting a chuckle from Puddle. Donkey muttered something obscene under his breath and continued to work on his gun. With the tension lifted Snaptrap went back to rhyming. Puddle eventually leant to the side to see over Donkeys shoulder and marvel the creature he groomed. “What the hell is that and what do you kill to need it.”
Donkey looked back with a smile. “This marvelous beast? This is Bertha. Able to punish anyone behind anything. Shame it’s not the most practical thing. I’d take it everywhere otherwise.”
Snaptrap scoffed. “Worst name for any gun ever.”
Donkey shot a look back to Snaptrap. “Show him your kid’s then.”
Snaptrap’s grin burst at the seams. Launching forward, spinning round and lifting the mattress of his bunk up he held the mess back while throwing his other arm out to showcase what laid beneath. “Behold! The Bitch!”.
Puddle reach in to inspect the monstrosity. The .308 semi-automatic rifle was converted to fully automatic fire. The barrel was sawn off. The butt stock was sawn off. What room remained up front was taken by a 40mm grenade launcher that Snaptrap managed to jam on. Puddle held the maybe-still-a-rifle like Frankenstein’s monster begging for death. “Dude. There’s like, laws against this. In the Geneva convention, I think.” He dangled the back end of the weapon as if he was unsure if it would explode. “Besides how are you meant to hit anything with… this?”
Snaptrap threw his hand across his chest and clicked his fingers. “That’s the neat part, you don’t! You just hold that trigger, dump that mag and put the gut shitting fear of death into God as it screams like a HMG. That way you get the initiative on contact.” Snaptrap went back to scuffling round. “And if I can’t take that along, I pack this alongside my rifle.” He pulled out a revolver too large for just one of his hands.
Donkey gazed on at the spectacle. “You know Snappa, I have to say, It’s a miracle you’re still alive mate. You get one shot and that’s it, no follow ups with crap like that.”
Snaptrap winked. “And that’s exactly why I live by the wisest of words.” He dropped the revolver under the mattress while it fell before parting the air with both hands. “Shooting twice, is for pussies.”
Puddle found himself nodding. “You know what, that’s honestly some solid advice.”
Donkey squinted. “No it-. Shut up kid.”
The silence gained again. Puddle asked the next question. “How’d you guys get your handles?”
Snaptrap started chuckling while Donkey groaned, Snaptrap speaking up. “Donkey being stubborn as an ass. Thought he could kick in a door. Didn’t work. They tell him to go around but he wouldn’t give up. So he just kept, on, kicking. It eventually went and he charges in only to find everyone else had already finished the job.”
Donkey snarled with a smile. “Doesn’t beat yours though buddy.”
Snaptrap pointed at Donkey. “Your absolutely right!” He looked to Puddle. “Let me paint the scene. Crazy isolationist bastard keeps threatening people we’re protecting. So we go to sort it out. I walk up, chest puffed up in my new Akula red and white, ready for anything. I step through the door and guess what?”
Puddle waited and Snaptrap eventually slapped their hands together with fingers interlocked. “Bear trap. Now. I want you to really think about this. We live in Nocturnia yeah?”
Puddle gave a confused nod, Snaptrap picked up in energy. “When was the last time you saw a fucking BEAR!?”
Snaptrap launched upward more animated than ever. “And the crazy motherfucker doesn’t have one, no, that would make too much sense. I go down and SNAP. SNAP. SNAP. Metal traps taking bites out of my new goddamn Kevlar. Then almost as if summoned, there comes that crazy bastard, bat overhead ready to beat the cellulite out of me.”
Puddle just laughed. Donkey continued. “Then there were the two guys you’ve replaced that Antonio took. Breaker and Joey. Breaker found a way to jam any weapon you gave him, and Joey on his first day got shot in the ass after dropping his gun, hopped around like an idiot. Good times.”
Snaptrap finished laughing, paused, and looked to Donkey. “You think those two are doing alright?”
Donkey went back to tinkering with his weapon. “Can’t imagine why not.”
Traitor
Nocturnia - Abyssal Depths
He awoke with a gasp. Perched with hands around knees, curled up as a ball. He felt sick. Not like he was going to throw up. Like he was sick to his core, sick to his soul. The helmet was suffocating. Hands shot underneath and ripped it off, the helmet bouncing before a splash and sinking to the shallow bottom a step away.
He took in gulps of the moist subterranean air. Shivering eyes darting around he spotted a group of emancipated bodies perched just as he was. Drowned pale yellow flesh and bulbus black eyes paying no mind to his disturbance. Some of the bodies still wore intact clothing. The body next to him wore the rags left of a military uniform from the days of war zone 13.
The body next to him scooped the moss off the ground with bony fingers, it’s jittery hand slapping half of it over it’s face while the rest mushed into its open slack jawed mouth. It tilted its head back to swallow, muttering all the while how its tour was almost over, that home would come soon, to celebrate their child’s birthday when they got back.
The man pulled his hands around his legs and balled up more tightly. This was purgatory. This was his punishment. His mind replayed the memory of bringing the bucket down until his victim’s grey matter painted the floorboards. His friend, his family, his brother in arms. Joey. That man had saved him countless times, and he murdered him for it. For no reason other than it felt so good. Because the voices rewarded it.
This one has been broken.
The voices came back. What should be terror was instead only anxiety. His mind was tired. Slipping away. All he saw was the light of his helmet drowning in the water consuming its efforts to shine, only allowing a glimpse of the intensity to come through with a flickering.
This one will be retained.
The words were strangely calming. They suggested purpose in their meaning. The voices returned, licking at his soul. He ran a hand through his hair only to find a clump of it falling between his fingers.
Sleep. Decay. Evolve.
Simple, attainable instruction. There was no need to fight anymore. He’d done his part. The light within the water began flicker its death rattle as the voice rumbled in his mind again, soothing his eyes to close.
Sleep
Decay
Evolve
He let his head slip lower. Pulled himself in tighter. Perched like the rest of the bodies on the stone shelf at the waters edge. The light finally gave out.
Then came the deep, endless sleep.
