Decided to make an IC story, what do you think?

Basicly, I’ve started working on my new server, it’s pretty fun and I’ve really gotten into it. It contains Metro 2033-styled nazis, this is about one of them. So far I’ve only made one chapter. But to fill you in on one thing found:

The Ridden:
Mutantfolk, pretty basic, kinda like S.T.A.L.K.E.R’s zombiefied.

The story:

[Release]Chapter 1

One cold night in Chernobyl, an abandoned powerplant, recently repopulated by a band of mercenaries. Most were former soldiers, some had greater backgrounds than others, they had recently grown in numbers, it was easy to tell apart the rugged veterans from the fresh faces. Most remained at ease, sitting around campfires, and guarding the enterances. Their breaths exhaled fog as they stood there, stiff as the rain poured down from their rifles and their thick, damp uniforms. On occassion you could see their details of their uniforms as the skies light up by the frequent thunder. As the guards strew themselves along the exteriour, a trail of soldiers led inside the main building. The lights within it remained dead, the only thing keeping that cold warehouse lit was the orange glow from the embering fires lit upon the wood placed within a handful of barrels in all corners. In the middle sits a man by a desk. The line ends by that very desk. The line shortens as each man leading it trades in their badges. The badges taken from the enemy uniforms…

Clerk:
“Five, six, seven, eight, nine… That’s ninty roubles for you.”

The soldier walks off as he puts his money in his pocket. His face is hidden behind a gasmask, he wipes off a few raindrops with his bloodstained sleeve. With a heavy trudge, a large, tall man with black, short and greasecoamed hair wearing a trenchcoat walks up. His helmet and mask is attached to his belt, along with a sidearm and a bloodstained knife. On his back he has a black AK-98 Akaban. Along his face rests a long scar, going from the top of his forehead, across his eye, his lips, down to the upper end of his chin. His hands are coated in black leather gloves, below his trenchcoat is a kevlar vest and a white shirt, and below that is a pair of black uniform pants, leading down to his shined, yet muddy combat boots. With a slight thump, he puts down a sack on the desk that was hitched to his belt. The clerk looks up at him as he nervously opens up the bag. Within it is badges, from different uniforms, not only the enemy that he was sent to kill, but also from other hostile factions. Including the bandits and the Russians. The stuttering clerk counts them one by one.

“Forty-six, forty-seven…”

He tall man draws his sidearm. The clerk almost jumps out of his chair. The man then takes out a small, white, yet bloodstained, white hankercheif, wiping it, polishing it carefully as the nervous clerk keeps counting.

“N-ninty-eight, ninty-nine…”

The tall man keeps wiping his gun, staring quietly at the clerk, the men behind remains quiet, behind him you can hear the distant sound of a harmonica between the roaring thunder and the nervous echoing voice of the clerk. Suddenly, a guard walks up to the man, saying:

“Sir, the commander wants to see you, the clerk will give you the pay after the talk.”

The tall figure holsters the gun. The soldier glances down at the holster, seeing the hand-grenades hanging next to it. The tall man says with a deep, yet smooth voice:

“Shall we?”

The guard leads him to a stairway behind the clerk, two guards standing by it, they walk into another room once passing it. Inside he’s greeted by a short man in a navy blue camo uniform. He has an eyepatch and a cigar. His face is hard to see in the lack of light, besides the occassional time when his face lights up as the heavy thunder illuminates through the window behind him. By his sides are two guards, both wearing a matching uniform along with helmets and gasmasks, both at attention with a pair of baynetted AK-47s. With a raspy voice, the commander says:

“Please… Have a seat, Mr. Müller.”

The tall man takes a seat on the other side of the desk, the soldier leading him walks out of the room, you can still hear the faint sound of the stuttering clerk. The commander then says:

“Now, it has come to my attention that you’ve settled in quite well… And more importantly, that you’re very, very efficient. So I did some searching in your background. You’re quite the colorful man, what surprises me the most is how you’ve been working with the enemy… Isn’t that so… Karl?”

The man, now identified as Karl Müller, replies:

“If you have seen my capabilities, then pherhaps you shouldn’t ask too many questions…”

The commander laughs mockfully, saying:

“You don’t scare me, ARREST HIM!”

Karl quickly draws his sidearm, a loud gunshot is heard through the entire complex. The commander lets out a strange gargle as the soldiers looks at him confused. Karl then says:

“He’d cry out in agony… But I blew off his windpipe.”

The tense soldiers points their weapons at him, trembling slightly with their aim. Karl lets out a slight chuckle, standing up before holstering, saying:

“Gentlemen…”

Karl then steps out of the room, walking down the stairs. He walks up to the clerk, looking at him, the clerk, gives him three bundles of money with a shaking hand. Karl then looks at him, saying:

“You’ve yet to cross me, so there’s no need to fear me.”

He then unhooks his mask from his belt and puts it on, followed by his helmet. He salutes the clerk and walks off. He puts a hand in his pocket and takes out a brass swastika, he pins it onto his uniform, walking out of the camp. As he walks out, an armored halftruck waits outside, his fellow men is there, nazis, all of them. He looks at them, saying:

“Kill them…”

The Karl hops up onto the halftruck, sitting down at the mounted MG42 turret. They drive infront of the complex, towards the line, that’s now shortened enough so that the soldiers are only inside the complex. Yet, the wide enterance remains open. The halftruck stops at the enterance, the sound of the heavy gun is heard as Karl’s face lits up by the MG42’s muzzleflash. The line of soldiers reduces quickly as they fall to the ground as the smoke and dust covers the floor. He jumps off of the halftruck, then as he lands off of his feet, he draws his gun and uncocks it, a few soldiers are lying on the ground in agony, coughing and groaning, clutching themselves as they bleed. Karl walks up to each and every one of them, he ends their agony with a bullet each. As the smoke clears, he sees that the clerk still sits by the desk, the center of his pants had grown damp out of fear. He remains uninjured. Karl walks up to him as he’s paralyzed by fear. The loud footsteps is the only thing heard besides his whimpering. Karl looks down at him, saying:

“As mentioned, no need to fear me.”

He holsters the gun and walks back to the truck, stopping halfway, saying:

“However…”

He then quickly draws his luger. Swiftly firing a bullet, the clerk falls off his chair, the bullet whent through his leg. He screams out in pain as he clutches his leg. Karl then says:

“What dosn’t kill you, only makes you stronger…”

Karl then resumes, moving to the halftruck outside. He takes his position in the turret, the halftruck then drives off in the night. None of the soldiers dared to stop him, they knew they did not stand a chance. As Karl’s men, along with himself drove down the road, something caught his line of sight, in the horizon he saw a limping man swiffly move across the road. It had not been long since the nukes fell, and the army rose, many things were still new, anomalies, radiation, there was no telling what had occured, both since this, and since the disruption of the powerplant. He knew something wasn’t right. Suddenly he saw something run out in the headlights, with a massive thud, the halftruck bounced. Karl shouted:

“HALT! Get outside!”

He whent out of the turret, the back of the truck opened, they drew their weapons and looked at what they hit. Blood ran down the wet road, some covered their halftruck, it slowly disolved in the watery surface of the raindrops on that paved road. It glistened due to the headlights of the car, the… person was infront of it, it was strange, nobody should had survived that, yet… it was there, twiching, moving, trying to get up. Karl aproached it as the other seven men had their guns aimed at it. Karl said:

“Sir?”

It then looked at him, opening it’s mouth, letting out a screech as it got back, charging him. He had a struggle with it, his men couldn’t fire. Suddenly Karl drew his bloodied combat knife, putting it next to the temple of the stranger’s nose. Blood poured down the sinues of it’s face as it fell off of the sharp blade, onto the ground. Suddenly, from the sides of the roads, tons of beings like this one came out, limping, screeching, former human beings, going through the bushes, rushing them. The soldiers opens fire, killing them as they try to attack them. Karl draws his luger, he fires off a gunshot into one of them, blood splashes from the being’s head as it’s skull shatters. He kills off another six of them, all clean headshots, as he then has to reload. But instead he holsters, drawing his AK-98. Rain runs down his rifle as he starts to fire it from his hip, bullet by bullet as the beings fall down before him, one by one. His fellow soldiers tries to keep them off, but is not as successful. A young man tries to keep them off, but his weapon jammed, he yells out in fear as the being sinks it’s teeth into his shoulder, ripping out his neckvein. The being keeps chewing as blood pours out of him. He’s slowly reduced to his back as the other beings joins in to feed on his warm flesh. Karl then orders them to retreat. He walks up to the roof of the halftruck, holding them off as his men gets in. They drive off as the enraged horde chases them.

Two hours later, after a long drive through the night…

The halftruck drives along the road, near them is a camp, high fences, cornered by watchtowers, it was easy to see through the rainy night thanks to the searchlights and lamps around the area. Karl gets off the halftruck as it pulls over within the camp. Soldiers are patroling the area, you could hear the gentle tapping as the raindrops hit their helmets, and the splashing sounds as they walked through the mud. A giant banner with the knight’s cross and the swastika yeilds over the camp. Karl enters a building, he walks inside as he removes his mask and helmet. The warm lighting breaks the change of enviroment as he enters, the scent of tobacco and cognac fills the room as he enters, a man stands before him, wearing an officer’s hat, and a matching trenchcoat. Karl salutes him, saying:

“Mein Kommandant.”

The officer looks at him, saying:

“Karl, there is no time for that now, as I understand, you’ve seen something quite… disturbing…”

Karl replied:

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I belive “Project Red Oktober” has reached a critical level due to recent events.”

The officer replies:

“I see, well, only one thing to do…”

Karl asks:

“Yes?”

The officer says:

“Take your men to the outer sector, we got an old bunker there, talk to the comissioner, load up a few trucks, and set up an outpost. Russian activity should be minimum there, and you could problably find out more about… The Ridden…”

Karl asks:

“The Ridden?”

The officer answers:

“Ja, they are the beings that you saw, but at a deadlier state… alot deadlier…”

Karl looks worried, asking:

“…Untoten?”

The officer closes his eyes in dismay, nodding. Then saying:

“You’ll leave tomorrow, take what you need, and judging from what you’ll be facing, make sure to include what’s needed for your men to keep a high morale…”

Karl slaps his heels together, raising his arm at a forty-five degree angle. The officer responds by doing the same. Karl then leaves the office…


Chapter 2

Karl whent into the barracks, his fellow men were changing into their long johns, it was time to sleep. Some made a few jokes, one of the newer recruits was kissing a picture of a girl. A few minutes later, it was dark and quiet, Karl himself were asleep, only, fully dressed, at a chair. The men knew his capabilities, and felt safe knowing he’d be prepared at anytime. Karl didn’t mind, being at war so often, he’d slept through worse situations than that. After getting four hours of sleep, leaning at the wooden chair. The alarm whent off, dogs were barking, and gunfire could be heard. The weather had not gotten better either. Lights could be seen everywhere. He looked outside, he had drawn his sidearm. Leering out the window, looking for the enemies, he saw beings climbing up the barb wire fences, guns at their back, growling as they lept down on the other side. Drawing their guns as they swiftly fired their weapons, killing the german guards pretty fast. Karl woke up the other recruits, turning on the lights, tossing MP-40’s to everyone, taking one himself. They whent outside, the camp had been overrun by the enemy. The enemy were identified as The Ridden, the flesheating, undead beings, capable to act human. Karl ran outside, saw a few of them rushing towards their barracks. He drew his gun, killing them all, one bullet each. The other recruits screamed inside as The Ridden ran through the windows, gunfire from them could be heard, but Karl knew they didn’t have a chance. There were about twenty of them remaining, but they were fast, agile, imune to both pain and intimidation. Karl ran over to one of the watchtowers, climbing up the ladder. He saw a mounted MG42 up there, he ripped it off it’s tripod, putting the belt of bullets over his shoulders. He starts to slide down the ladder, his back facing it, holding the ladder with one hand, and his gun with the other, firing it at a ridden raider crawling along the barracks rooftop, the being dies, it’s corpse leaves a trail of blood along the ceiling as it slides down from the bent surface, landing in the mud with a splash. Karl fires off another salvo of bullets at another one, this time crouching behind a küblenwagen, it falls down onto it’s back as it gets hit in the shoulder, crawling to a retreat. Karl fires off another salvo as it’s closing to a barracks, it takes a few bullets in it’s side before falling through a barrack’s window. One of the beings are closing up behind him with a pickaxe. Karl turns swiftly with his knife in hand, the being falls down on it’s back with a slash across it’s chest, laying there, injured, Karl turns and aims the heavy barrel at it, pumping it’s torso full off led untill it stops moving. He goes on, firing a salvo at another three of them, charging him, they all fall down on the ground, lying motionless. He made good use of the gun, it may had been a machinegun, but he made sure not to waste ammo as he kept working through the beings, untill he got to the kommandant’s office. He sees another ridden with a knife, he shoots it a few times, it falls down, dead. Another one is behind him, with a chainsaw. He tries to kill it, but as he fires, he hears Click! Click!. But he looks at his shoulders, no bullets left. The being swings the chainsaw, trying to cleave him, sparks fly over his head as he parries it with the long barrel of his machinegun. He hits the being with the stock of his rifle, it stumbles sideways, but restores it’s balance, making another swing at Karl with the chainsaw, Karl ducks down, delivering a kick in it’s head. It spins around before staggering back. It turns again, thrusting the chainsaw towards Karl, Karl sidesteps, holding his MG42 by the barrel, he swings it at the being’s head, the being looses balance. Karl then kicks the flat side of the chainsaw’s blade. It falls out of the being’s hands. He delivers another kick at the being, it falls down towards the saw, it’s neck landing at the still rotating blade, it’s lopped off instantly. Karl picks up the bloodied saw, he sees how three of those things are surrounding him. One leaps at him, he holds out the saw, letting it impale it, he then twists around, it falls down on it’s back, he then thrusts into it one more time to finish it off, but by then, the saw runs out of fuel. He climbs up a ladder to the rooftop, the beings still following him. He gets to the top, noticing the metal wire. He picks it up and waits for the other two. He holds out the wire, charging them. He ties the metal wire around their necks, the end of the wire is attached to a nearby antenna. He puts a grenade in one of their mouths, he pulls the pin and kicks them over the edge. The wire straightens as they kick around, trying to get loose from the wire, but before that, they both explode, their remains scatter across the camp. Karl takes a hold of the wire, and slides down it, landing on his feet, entering the office. In there is the kommandant, sitting on the floor, infront of him is a dead ridden, around him lies cartidges, and next to him is an empty gun. He coughs some blood as he looks at Karl, saying:

“Ge… Get over here, quickly…”

Karl looks at him, kneeling down, asking:

“What is it?”

The kommandant says:

“Here, take this… give it to the nearest outpost… it’s… it’s your form of promotion, along with a request for an iron cross. You… you deserve it…”

Karl says:

“Thank you, sir.”

The kommandant says:

“He… help me onto my feet, put me against the wall.”

Karl grabs him below his arms, lifting him. Propping him against the wall. The kommandant then uses his last powers to salute Karl, Karl returns it. He then lets out a groan, sliding down to his sitting position, dead.[/Release]

Oh, and, if you see slight spelling errors, keep in mind, I’m not English, nor American, so, well, compared to most people using it as a second langauge, I think my English is fairly decent, no?

Pretty damn nice work vince, couldnt read the start of chapter 2 though, it needs some spaces, as it is right now its completely unreadable.

I read a few things that im going to critisize from chapter 1 too, so yeah here i go.
First of all, Kar Mullér is too much of a generic “badass dude”, way too much. Atleast remove the scar, its just too un-original.

Also, the commander guy reminds me of a certain someone

Change that uniform to a suit with a tie and you got this guy.

I really hope thats not what you tried to make him sound like, but it is.

Also, hurray for zombies, now really i have nothing against them but they are quite overused too.

Other than those things, this is pretty damn well done, A+ :angel:

A scar on a war veteran? Blasphemy!

I know your critisism is unbias and constructive, but I can’t be “nice” to you, I’ve yet to forgive how you slandered the community I’ve been working at for over a year whilst struggling with some pretty intense real life issiues. Stop trying to kiss my arse, it’s annoying.

Im not trying to kiss your ass in any way, and i dont think that i would be very succesfull, seing as how we you know, probably live more than a houndred kilometers or whatever from eachother, i am merely not one to hold a grudge.
I am giving it praise because its actually pretty good, and i’ve given it some critizism as well because parts of it is quite unoriginal as a most stuff is nowadays, and because other parts of it make no sense.
No, most war veterans dont actually have scars, why would they have that? What would they have gotten it from? I dont really think getting shot makes a scar.
Stop trying to make me look like im kissing your ass, its annoying.

Yeah, I did that to prove a point, since it kinda shows how it feels when people makes it seem like something about you is true which isn’t. Magnify that feeling of annoyance a few times, then you know why I’m so pissed.

…See what I did there? My grudge will drop by time, you may even get an opportunity to join again, just, this is how I deal with stuff.

Also, I don’t think it was too unoriginal, I whent with a zombie-mutant-ghoul hybrid, which isn’t too common besides in I am legend, allthough this isn’t really the same.

As for how he got the scar… Well… He just fought someone with a chainsaw, so in a post apocalyptic world where ammo is short, it would make sense to get some melee injuries.

First of all, because its the thing that makes least sense, how would he get a scar from fighting someone with you know, a chainsaw? Wouldnt his head get chopped right over?
Second, its really just a normal zombie, i didnt see any ghoul’ish stuff, and zombie mutants are quite normal too nowadays, there might have been a bit of stuff that made the zombies unique in chapter 2, but as i stated, it was pretty much unreadable, so obviously i didnt read it.
And third, nope, i dont see what you did there :smug:
And you aparently deal with grudges in way that is even weirder than my own, which is to ignore it completely and get on with my life.

Suit yourself, as I said, I was gonna forget about it eventually and offer you to return to RRP, but if you wanna keep up the conflict. I can’t help that.

Oh, and as for the rest, I just rated you bad reading, both reguarding the story, and the replies. Maybe you’ll deny it, maybe you’ll read it again and feel like a complete ass, either way, I’m all out of damns to give.

Im keeping up the “conflict” as you call it? And that comes from the guy who posted this?

In truth, there is no conflict except the one you have made, and the one you keep up.I
have moved on with my life, away from you, your insanely large ego, and your paranoia.
Away from RRP, and its “glorious communist leader”.
I dont really think that i even want to come back anymore to be honest.

Nice effort and it worked for me, i like it. There is no many spelling errors and the story is interesting. A- i’ll say.

No worries, when you move on to something so pathetic as personal attacks, that ship sails. Not to mention that we all know that when you accuse someone as “arrogant”, it’s generally due to that one can’t find any real reasons to insult someone.

Belive it or not, but people like me, I’m sorry if that annoys you. But trying to be pleasant and reach for one’s potential hardly classifies as arrogance. Arrogance is when you can talk the talk, but not walk the walk, but turns out, I’m pretty damn good at what I’m doing, and I’m not afraid to admit that.

Again, you cant understand that you are not almighty, i give up, because of your huge ego it is impossible to reason with you.

For the last time: I do not have a huge ego. Just because I do not hate myself does not mean I have a huge ego, I base my self image on what others think of me, and not my own delusions, just genuine compliments, I hear people telling me I am intelligent all the time, at first I got abit humble about it, denying it, but after about two years of that, I was like “Fuck this shit, I guess I am intelligent.”

I do not have a giant ego, the problem lies within your derranged logic and low self-esteem.

ITT: Pointless arguing.

Stop derailing the thread, don’t you think I feel like a total jerk over the situation Elowin started?

And this was the chain of events:
He gave critisism.
I agreed with some of it, and explained some. I also mentioned that I was about to offer him peace since I have a tendency to need a while to let go of things.
He thought it was way out of line that I actually had a good reason, and then began to bring up old things.

That’s how it started, and belive me, I hate when this crap happens, it makes me look bad, so just let it go already.

And you’re telling me that i am a liar eh?
Seriusly you should stop trying to lie when everyone can see what you did in the exact same thread, does not work it doesnt.
Also, nice work making me post here again. :fuckyou:

Whatever, I honestly don’t care anymore, I guess asking to be left alone never really works when it’s an imnature jerk who’s just out to bash someone. Don’t try to deny it either, you pretty much stalk all my posts. But I know, “Don’t feed the troll.”, I’ll just ignore you.

Maybe because almost all your posts are in the roleplaying section?
After all, i do actually stalk that… :ninja:

Vinze, you are saying that other people are trolls even you seem to be one…

[editline]05:16PM[/editline]

Nosir. Thats my job.

[editline]05:17PM[/editline]

You two are just pissed because Vince banned you

Oh btw, don’t try and make RRP look bad, considering YOU joined it, and played it, and minged, and got banned because of it.

http://www.facepunch.com/image.php?u=239167&dateline=1274557862

:respek:

http://www.facepunch.com/image.php?u=233718&dateline=1270300058