The fallen
Posted By: fwooperboy<fwooperboy@hotmail.com>
Date: 20 November 2006, 8:40 pm
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The fallen
The fallen littered the ground. The rich, loamy soil was soaked heavily with deep red blood. There was a heavy smell of human lingering in the air.
A burnished Scarlet armoured Elite strode over to the patch of devastation and even he, a seasoned Veteran of the Covenant, was disgusted by what he saw.
There were such patches of ground like this everywhere. Shell holes made the ground look like Swiss cheese. There weren't just human bodies strewn everywhere either. The Covenant had also racked up a high casualty count. Multitudes of dead were littered everywhere.
The Elite wandered over to a lone human body as his troops scurried hither and thither collecting the Fallen in hovercarts.
"They will feed the burners nicely," remarked a lesser Elite, who then pointed to a tangled, mangled bunch of bodies and barked at a Grunt to do his job.
The Veteran looked at the pathetic creature at his feet. He had obviously been fleeing the carnage when he had fallen. He lay on his back, his eyes closed as if he were but sleeping. The Elite reluctantly picked up the Marines helmet that lay nearby. Some scavenger had already thieved the working camera inside, but from the white stripe running down the middle of the helmet, the Elite recognised the human as an Elite of his kind.
With more reluctance, the Elite kicked the human and the body rolled over onto its face to display a bloody plasma hole in his back. He had been running. Perhaps he had been ordered too. Perhaps he was just scared.
The Elite scoffed at his foolish notions of carrying the filthy human back to camp and turned to leave when the fallen moaned and stirred. He was still alive.
Rather than alert his men to the presence of a live human, the Elite crouched as if assessing the Marine's dog tag. The Elite was tired of war. Endless shelling, hand to hand combat had withered even the toughest of the aliens down to a shaky shadow of what they once had been.
The Marine opened his eyes and moaned as he saw the Elite's twitching mouthparts. He writhed, but could not rise. He moaned, but could not speak. The Elite suddenly felt an urge of unhappiness, but why? He was one of the chosen, the celestial
he would not experience pity towards these foul abominations
he could not.
The Elite snatched the human's dog tag with protesting groans from the downed Marine and he found to his horror his hands were shaking, covered with this red blood.
The dog tag read:
"Private Meyer, born New Boston. Age: 24. Blood type A-A+." The Elite shook uncontrollably. This human maggot was just a boy. The Elite's English reading capabilities were poor, but he understood enough the creature's age. It was disgusting.
A shrill whining hum erupted and a gravity cannon hovered past, green Grunts riding on the sides. The Elite quickly grabbed a tarp from a fallen human and flung it over Meyer. By the Prophets, now he was calling the human by its name.
The Elite shuddered and pulled himself to his feet.
Get a hold of yourself. We're at WAR. We can't show pity towards these foul demons, they were the enemy and nothing more
and yet
and yet the fallen was crying out to him and he felt that something had to be done.
A silver Elite strode onto the killing field.
"What's going on here soldier, clean up these filthy dead!" he roared at the veteran kneeling by the fallen. The Elite blurted out the words before his head had even had a chance to catch up with the Silver officer.
"No, this is wrong," he said. The Silver Elite's mandibles clicked in anger.
"What?" he growled.
"This is wrong
sir," the Elite added. The Silver Officer approached and drew his energy rifle. He raised it and brought the butt down hard on the Elites head. Instantly the Elite fell to the ground, tasting his own blood.
"Stand up, you scumbag. Your vile slander is unacceptable. Now you will face the wrath of the Prophets and nothing will save you from divine vengeance," roared the Silver Elite and he hoisted the Veteran to his feet. He was clubbed down instantly, blood pouring from one of his eyes.
As the Silver Officer made another charge, the Veteran rolled to the side and sprinted desperately to a waiting Ghost. He heard the whine of a plasma pulse and grunted as he was thrown to the ground. In an instant joined the fallen.
The Silver Elite looked at the pathetic creature at his feet and fired a second plasma blast into a struggling Meyer. And in a second, he fell.
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