Relapse -- Part One

[Ultraviolet]

So uh, Ryan got me back into the Relapse team, kinda. Heh. I wrote this between the hours of 1 and 3 AM, so please forgive any glaring grammatical errors and purely senseless... stuff. Anyhoo, for the purpose of promoting the project and reminding people that Relapse still exists, here is part one of the story. Yeah, kind of a fanfic cocktease, but even if I did wanna give the rest of the story, it hasn't even been written.


*****

...sadly, humanity was forced to endure more. True, peace had been achieved, but only through superior firepower. Nobody was left with enough energy or will to bring humanity back to humanity. People lived once again under a feudal system, but with only one man at the top. Unity. One race. One nation. One leader. One fate. With the entire world divided into military districts, any breach of the peace -- or any thought of overthrowing or hiding from the Global Directorate's authority -- could be swiftly extinguished.

In The Year of Peace 200, man grimly celebrated the bicentennial anniversary of his utter subjugation of Earth. Food rations were increased, however temporarily and insignificantly. Parades were formed and the people were gathered in the streets to silently watch the silently marching soldiers proudly display their tools of peace for the world to see.

Similar events were conducted worldwide. As an inhabitant of the south pacific island district New Alexandria, and therefore a conscript of the local Marine Corps, I stood alongside my fellow men at arms, parading through the streets to keep up national spirit, knowing that the true purpose of the exhibition was two-fold, not only for national pride, but as a reminder to the people of who was really in control.

It was at that moment that the universe chose to remind us of who was really in control. In one blinding flash, and in time with the first firing of the parade guns, a rift opened in the sky. A sensation of penetrating cold permeated the tropical warmth as a shock wave knocked many people to their feet. From the alleys and out of the sewers abominations of the human form started to show themselves. Awestruck soldiers clutched their sidearms awaiting orders, for the abominations had not yet shown hostility, but our indecision on the matter would prove to be our undoing. As if with supernatural strength, the strange visitors began attacking indiscriminately the old, the young, the women, the unarmed and the armed alike. Sounds of mortal terror and tearing flesh filled the air, but due to our extensive training, we only allowed ourselves to be phased momentarily. Immediate action was taken, impotently firing on what we knew in our hearts were demons, but in firing through the crowd in attempting to hit the demons we hit mostly just the crowd. For every human taken down by a stray bullet, the form of the corpse was abominated by some invisible force, its structure re-inhabited by a presence that was decidedly not akin to a human soul.

It became plainly obvious that the men around me were systematically being wiped out from the periphery of our formation, falling to pure, disproportionate brute force, a mockery to our superior training. As ranks before and behind me fell, a remaining officer called to those of us who were still alive, ordering us to scatter and regroup at the city square. We dropped our excess equipment -- barring ammunition, of course, for that is never a resource found to be in excess -- and ran. Those of us who were unfortunate enough to have had the impulse to look back saw the officer who had just ordered our retreat being mauled and subsequently devoured by beings which were formerly members of the crowd that came to watch our parade. (I guess they didn't like the show.)

Our numbers diminished as we ran. Lucky to be on the other side of the engagement area, men were picked off behind me as I ran with immunity. Against all expectations I actually arrived at the city square, but no fellow soldiers were present with which to regroup. A strategic retreat was in order. No one remained to be saved. My only objective was survival. I thought to myself, determining the proper course of action, concluding that I had to get to a nearby district and inform them of the situation here so it could be quarrantined. As I prepared myself to move on, otherworldly groans could be heard coming from the surrounding streets. A handful of the things had followed me, and just as I heard their moans I saw them approaching from all sides. I carefully pointed my weapon -- my Beretta 92FS sidearm, as I had run out of ammunition for my rifle during the prior engagement -- at the heads of the nearest opportune targets and methodically placed holes in said targets. When I was clear, I checked my clip, and to my dismay I found only one round remaining. As luck would have it, before I could even re-insert the clip I heard those otherworldly groans again, and a few of the hole-headed things on the ground rose slowly to their feet. The steady stream of profanity issuing forth from my mouth diminished in volume as another sound was heard coming from the horizon... a fast, rhythmic chopping. Fast moving, brightly burning projectiles, which I recognized as armor-piercing phosphorous tipped rounds, ripped through and mostly obliterated the heads of the demonic forms around me. Confused, I pointed the muzzle of my weapon away from my head...

As it landed, I noticed that the source of the fire, the black helicopter, bore no Global Directorate insignias, and strangely enough no markings of any kind. Its door opened and the black-clad and heavily armed man behind it hurriedly motioned for me to get in. I prepared to run for the door just as I felt a foot that I had not intended to move rise from the ground, swept from under me by the beast that dove for my ankles. The last round from my weapon whizzed past its grotesque form, having done nothing but pissed it off, and in reply the stunned creature began to tear at my chest. As the blood issuing from my wounds carried my life out of my body with it, a final flash could be seen in the ensuing darkness. A weight was lifted from me. A quick, sharp pain could be felt in my arm followed by a sensation like immersion in warmth. I released myself from the light and allowed the world as I knew it to float away.

*****


Any corrections? Suggestions? Compliments? Money? Is there something just really faggy jumping out of this and repeatedly poking you in the eyes with greasy fingers covered in Tabasco sauce? That shit burns, man, you can tell me. It's OK.

Coming soon (read: eventually):

• Relapse project homepage, possibly with details, release expectancy, screenshots, progress reports... no, work hasn't even started on the page, so don't ask.
  
• Progress and shit.
  

[Naked Snake]

Man, I haven't talked to Ryan in so long, I miss that guy. :(

Releapse still holds a place in my heart and I can't wait to see it released.

[Ultraviolet]

BBG said:

Man, I haven't talked to Ryan in so long, I miss that guy. :(

Releapse still holds a place in my heart and I can't wait to see it released.

Um, he's Darkstorm on these forums, you know.

[Lüt]

But he hasn't posted for months.

Except for that one thing earlier today.

[DarkStorm]

doesn't mean I don't lurk Lüt ;)

[Ultraviolet]

OMG, NOT DEAD!

[DarkStorm]

love you too bud

[Ultraviolet]

*unf*

[DarkStorm]

*unfs back*

but yes, this story says to me 'Relapse just sat back up from a shotgun wound'

heh...

[Ultraviolet]

Like some kinda Doom project zombie.

[Tobester]

heh... faggots.

[Ultraviolet]

Tobester said:

heh... faggots.

omg no u r

Comment on the story, fag.

[Tobester]

not bad.

heh

[Ultraviolet]

Tobester said:

not bad.

heh

Gee, thanks. Heh. Fucker.