Re: Short Stories
Posted: Mon Oct 14, 2019 6:32 pm
An ODST slipped into the dimly lit room through the malfunctioning door. The small amount of light resonating from the flashlight mounted on an abandoned SMG illuminated his chest piece.
PHOENIX
The words were printed on his black and red armor and surrounded in painted flames. He picked up the weapon and studied the many signs of combat. Scratches, dents, everything matched with the security footage the intel team recovered. Supposedly the original user was tracking down a Coyote leader before everything went to h3ll. Fake illegal weapons trade turned ambush. Not the first time that happened.
He threw down the SMG and continued down the hallway to where the agent’s last position was located. The door creaked as Phoenix lightly pushed it inward, revealing the mess inside. Just as assumed, his location bracelet was on the ground, crushed. Red liquid covered the ground and lightly splashed as the ODST maneuvered the room. He flicked the lights on and found the agent—or what was left of him. Remains of torture devices were littered everywhere: matches, knives, syringes, electrical transmitters, this poor man went through it all. He pulled down the soaked shirt and extricated the mangled dog tags. Cause of death: blood loss. Definitely. Tucked in the agent’s mouth was a card. Phoenix pulled it out and read aloud:
“Ace.”
Ace. This man was an absolute demon. A Rogue Coyote leader famous for his tortures, usually recorded for propaganda. He was wanted for over fifty million credits across the galaxy. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no sign of where he was now—*click*.
Phoenix stood completely still, waiting. Footsteps approached on all sides. He turned around and punched, only to be grabbed by the arm and flipped to the ground. A spartan walked up to him and took off his helmet.
“Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it.”
“Urgh, Ace...”
“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Boys! Get him on the chair.”
Three soldiers grabbed him and cuffed his hands behind him before he was not so elegantly thrown on a chair next to the agent. Ace knelt down and grabbed the knife.
“So, how do we start?”
2 HOURS LATER
Phoenix’s body was covered in his own blood, not one inch had his usual pale hue. Ace dropped the syringe and crouched in front of Agent Phoenix.
“Listen, as fun as it would be to kill you now, I think I have some other plans. I know you’ve always hated us Coyotes, but when you forget everything, it’ll all change.”
He motioned for someone to come over as Phoenix fell unconscious, never to reawaken as a UNSC operative.
Wow. Didn’t think I was going to write something canon for the Imperial Campaign here. Noted.
PHOENIX
The words were printed on his black and red armor and surrounded in painted flames. He picked up the weapon and studied the many signs of combat. Scratches, dents, everything matched with the security footage the intel team recovered. Supposedly the original user was tracking down a Coyote leader before everything went to h3ll. Fake illegal weapons trade turned ambush. Not the first time that happened.
He threw down the SMG and continued down the hallway to where the agent’s last position was located. The door creaked as Phoenix lightly pushed it inward, revealing the mess inside. Just as assumed, his location bracelet was on the ground, crushed. Red liquid covered the ground and lightly splashed as the ODST maneuvered the room. He flicked the lights on and found the agent—or what was left of him. Remains of torture devices were littered everywhere: matches, knives, syringes, electrical transmitters, this poor man went through it all. He pulled down the soaked shirt and extricated the mangled dog tags. Cause of death: blood loss. Definitely. Tucked in the agent’s mouth was a card. Phoenix pulled it out and read aloud:
“Ace.”
Ace. This man was an absolute demon. A Rogue Coyote leader famous for his tortures, usually recorded for propaganda. He was wanted for over fifty million credits across the galaxy. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no sign of where he was now—*click*.
Phoenix stood completely still, waiting. Footsteps approached on all sides. He turned around and punched, only to be grabbed by the arm and flipped to the ground. A spartan walked up to him and took off his helmet.
“Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it.”
“Urgh, Ace...”
“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Boys! Get him on the chair.”
Three soldiers grabbed him and cuffed his hands behind him before he was not so elegantly thrown on a chair next to the agent. Ace knelt down and grabbed the knife.
“So, how do we start?”
2 HOURS LATER
Phoenix’s body was covered in his own blood, not one inch had his usual pale hue. Ace dropped the syringe and crouched in front of Agent Phoenix.
“Listen, as fun as it would be to kill you now, I think I have some other plans. I know you’ve always hated us Coyotes, but when you forget everything, it’ll all change.”
He motioned for someone to come over as Phoenix fell unconscious, never to reawaken as a UNSC operative.
Wow. Didn’t think I was going to write something canon for the Imperial Campaign here. Noted.