Cry's Oneshot Landfill

[Cry of Wolves]

Wrote this with my boyfriend (He didn't like the gore.) and decided to let you guys see it.

"Yorba get that fucking door open." Charles says to me in a raspy whisper.

I twist my screw driver on the doors panel, removing the screws before pulling out the metal panel to the circuits and wires. "This can't be rushed man... It can fuck us over if I mess this up." I tell him, getting my multitool connected to the exposed wires and pressing the keypads to access the lock.

"Hurry up man." His armor clanking as he starts pacing in place, the dark hallways making the combat trained marine panicked.

Ping.. Ping... Ping... Ping...

"Yorba!"

Beep beep beep.

"I got it! I got it!" I tell him, pulling the airlock apart with my hands just enough for me to squeeze through. I stuff the multi tool into my satchel and begin to crawl into the opening, my chest plate pushing the air out of my lungs for a moment before I'm on the other side. "Come on Charles."

He doesn't seem to be moving, standing in place with his pulse rifle sagging in his arms.

"Charles?" I call to him.

Something hisses above him, it's dark claws clicking on the metal grid and something wet like the sound of a wet paper falling to the floor is heard as Charles lets out a gurgles choke.

He falls backwards onto the ajar airlock, his body hitting the frame and his head rolling back and into the gap. It falls off with a wet slurp, the head moving towards me till it rolls onto its side. Charles eyes look up at me, confused and scared before a lifeless glow takes hold.

I shuffle on my feet and run, the sounds of my boots echoing out the hallway and the hisses and roars following close behind...

[NGGJamie]

Wrote this with my boyfriend (He didn't like the gore.) and decided to let you guys see it.

Your boyfriend's a pansy. Good writing though.

[Cry of Wolves]

A group of marines and myself patrol the jungle surrounding Lazardus Colony, the click clack of our pulse rifles on our sides echoing past the trees. The critters on this backwater planet chattering in the background gives a nice sound to pay attention to that isn't the Marines fucking around.

“And so I was surrounded by CLF rebels, down to just my bayonet and a grenade. So I charged them and screamed as loudly as I can, scaring them and killing the biggest one! The rest tried running away and I threw my grenade at them, killing them all in one swoop! That's why I am the most badass of this battalion.” A young faced private with a freshly painted skull on his chest says, his shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Bull fucking shit you did, you just fucking got here! Your armor doesn't even have a scratch it.” The Lance says, poking the private with her smart gun and scratching the paint off in the center. “God damn, it's not even dry yet.” She comments before laughing with the rest of group.

The Private gets flustered and tries to say something, but the laughter shuts him down at every opportunity.

The Sargeant pats the Private on the back, holding his nade launcher on his shoulder. “Don't worry boot, you'll get your chance to fight at some point. Ain't that right Witty?”

I hardly noticed that I am being spoken to, keeping an eye on the motion tracker for any signs of the MIA patrol.

“Yo, Magnus! You all there?” Lance yells, throwing off my concentration.

“Huh what?” I say, peeling my eyes off the tracker to look up at my Marines.

“You zoned out Boss. You been looking at the Motion Tracker for an hour now.” Sarge says, wiping the sweat from under his B18 helmet.

“I know, I know. We been searching for this squad for days now and it's bugging me.” I say, turning off the Tracker and clipping it to my belt.

The Lance let's her Smartgun hang on her harness, flicking the eyepiece to look at me better. “I know you are worried about the missing boots. They probably got lost being dumbasses.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge my nose, “They would of hailed our radio calls and even use emergency flares. But we got nothing from them, they just disappeared.”

“God damn, do you fucking smell that?” The private remarks as he covers his nose with a gloved hand.

Being humid and hot, the air always smell thick with dirt and sometimes exotic flowers. But this times it smells like a rotting carcass and it's overpowering. It's a smell that makes you want to throw up after you emptied the porta-johns. It would of been minor had something not dripped on my shoulder guard.

I wipe the liquid off with my hand, looking at the red smear on my fingers. We all stop in our tracks as we take in our surroundings. The dirt below our feet no longer the same color as the usual brown path we take. Instead, it's a dark red and reeking with the smell of iron.

Then I can hear another drip hit my helmet, the source obviously coming from above us. Worried, I reach for my sidearm pouch as I look up. I would never forget this moment for the rest of my life.

Five skinned bodies hanging from a rope tied to their feet. Their flesh exposed to both the environment and the wildlife. You can even see the outside of their muscles wiggling with insects feeding off of them.

“You gotta be fucking shitting me…”

[Martzin]

Good writing. And your boyfriend's a puss. Spooky short stories are always a treat.

[Cry of Wolves]

Good writing. And your boyfriend's a puss. Spooky short stories are always a treat.

Thanks! And I'll make sure to let him know.

[Kerek]

Pretty good!

[Cry of Wolves]

Pretty good!

Thanks!

[Cry of Wolves]

The air is frozen and the winds blow past me violently. The light of my flare helping me see through the thick combination of fog and snow.

The sudden destruction of our vessel and the evacuation left many of us scattered if they were lucky enough to survive the atmospheric drop. With the drop-pod damaged and the other two marines dead from the impact, I'm forced to travel to the nearest colony or freeze to death with my fallen comrades.

With each step I take, the snow crunches beneath my boots. Sometimes my leg sinks into the snow and forcing me to waste precious seconds trying to unstuck myself. It all seems hopeless until I spot glow sticks impaled into the snowy floor. Glowing blue beacons of hope. Running on fumes and my body close to shutting down, I follow the marked path to the destination it wants to take me.

Despite being so close to surviving, the nature on this planet doesn't take kindly to my small chance of living and the snow storms kicks up into a blizzard. I can barely make out the blue glow let alone see a foot in front of me. By sheer luck did the path end and the front of a Weyland Yutani outpost reveals itself to me in the icy rage of the blizzard.

I lean against the door and shiver, my shaky hands fumbling and mispressing the buttons on the door before the Colonial Marine override unlocks the door. The airlock slides open and my numb body falls through the opening, tumbling onto the tile floor of the building. The airlock tries to shut behind me, but it repeatedly closes on my boot until I drag my numb limb inside and let the door seal interior.

I quiver on floor, the snowy trek nearly taking my life. I would have fallen unconscious if the heater didn't turn on, blasting my body in warmth from both the vent above and below. I couldn't help but bask in the warmth, letting the blood flow back into my fingers and toes. My limbs no longer numb and at risk of frostbite.

I pick myself up from the floor, take in my surroundings. Scattered papers and clothes on the floor as well as vomit on the walls. Whoever lives here needs to turn on the maintenance drones to clean this up…

The further I walk, the more I see vomit on the floor. The color of it turning from a bright yellow to a dark orange the more I walk closer to the source. The hairs on my neck stand on edge and my instinct telling me to turn back. I shake the feeling and follow the trail to a sealed airlock. The glass observation port covered in orange vomit. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if seeing what's on the other side really worth it, but a scream from inside ended any thoughts of hesitation. I slam on the button and draw my sidearm, turning on the rail light to see inside the darken room.

My light cuts through the darkness, revealing desks and computers of what seems to be a communication hub. However it seems that the APC has been damaged severely and cover in a blackish goo. I scan the room for whoever screamed, only finding cassette tapes and papers until I found a puddle of blood pooling behind a table. I click the safety off and move closer to the table.

“United States Colonial Marines. Identify yourself!” I call out, peering around the corner to shine the light on the suspect.

A man dressed in a Wey-Yu Scientist uniform is hunched over another colonists, the body twitching and gurgling blood from their mouth as the man bites into their neck, taking a sizeable chunk of flesh and tearing it off. Blood spills to the floor as he chews noisily, already coming for seconds despite not swallowing the first bite.

“What the fuck…” I mutter, drawing the attention of the man. His head turns around to look back, his skin pale and his mouth covered in both dry and wet blood.

I step backwards, my handgun pointed at them in a threatening manner. “Stay back!” I shout, not noticing the blood on the floor till it's too late.

I take another step back and slip, falling backwards and my head recoiling onto the floor. My vision blurs for a moment as the man lunges for me, grabbing onto my leg and trying to bite me. I draw my other leg backwards before kicking him in the face, breaking his nose and even dislodging an eye from its socket. Yet despite the damage, he still tries to bite me, his teeth shattering on my shin guard in his attempt. I draw my leg back again and kick him again, getting him off of my leg and making him stumble backwards.

I don't waste time lining up my sights and I pull the trigger three times. The room echos as the casings clatter onto the floor, the rounds puncturing his chest and black blood splattering on the wall behind him. He seems unfazed and resumes to walking towards me again, his arms raised at me and his voice groaning. My eyes widen at his resilience, my gun adjusting it's aim towards his head before pulling the trigger. Gunshots echos again as his head reels backwards, brain matter coating the walls as he falls backwards. His leg twitching as he lays there on the floor, black blood pooling from the hole in his cranium.

I keep my gun pointing at him, worried that he will rise again from that fatal blow. I slowly stand up, my gun still trained on the body. I would of stared at him for hours had a station-bounced radio didn't ring out.

I look to the sound of the radio, seeing it's green boxy shape flash red and ring. I look back at the body once more before moving to pick up the radio. I push the receiver to answer the call. “Hello? This is Staff Sergeant Magnus…”

The radio buzzes with static for a few seconds before a voice plays through the speaker. “M-Magnus--Don--There is too many---Do not get bit---” The signal seems to be weak and the voice fades back to static. I twist the knob to find their signal but they seem to no longer be broadcasting.

“Dammit…” I mutter under my breath.

https://youtu.be/mxq5ymqPAsQ There is a computer with three floppy disks. Do you want to save?

Yes / No

Sif Magnus / 01 / Colony Comms Room

Zoey Lisile / 05 / Underground Medbay

Alisa Reis / 03 / Underground Medbay

Bob Shoe / 09 / Crashed Almayer