Post by jackkrauser on Jan 21, 2007 14:32:17 GMT -5
I wrote this a year or two ago. I looked it over quickly and patched it up a bit, sorry if I missed any mistakes. Also, I twisted some small parts of the story, i.e. first pitchfork lady and falling off the bridge.
"Oh god, it's so cold here."
Leon stepped out from his little tavern, jamming his hands deep into his jacket pockets. He looked up, seeing a large, rusty streetsign, adorned with grafiti. It read 'ganado way'.
"Ganado Way...hmm, sounds familiar." He took a worn looking translation pamphlet out of his back pocket and flipped it to the 'G' section.
"Ganaras'...Ganado! I knew it!" Ganado-Cattle, livestock.
"Huh, Spain is weird...Cattle Way?" He looked around, seeing the foreigners staring at him, in shock. He stopped talking to himself, a bad habbit he picked up after Racoon City. He started to think of when he started, but it was to painful. Especially thinking about her.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes, and took a left, walking towards a large building, the local police station. He would need all the help he could get, in this mission. Just his luck, right before he was hired to become Ashley Grahams bodyguard, she gets kidnapped. And by a small, unknown organization, too. Apparently, a cult.
He was thinking off all this when he nearly bumped into the whirling doors, going into the station. He pushed his way through the doors, and walked in. He immeadiately noticed the marble floors, looking almost identical to RPD. He started shivering too. The A/C was on. He was mumbling to himself about how strange these people were, when he heard a high, squeaky voice.
"Eh, excuse me, are you Le-Leon?"
"Mhm, yes." He walked up to the small receptionist, who was struggling just to speak English. She soon gave up, pointing to a door behind her. Leon walked into the room, and, seeing no one, sat down in a large, comfy, leather chair. Barely a second after he sat, a raspy voice boomed from seemingly nowhere.
"Ah, I see you've already taken a seat," a large man, with a long scar along his left cheek said rudely, after spinning his chair around to face Leon.
"You expected your guest to stand until you made little cliche'd entrance?" Leon replied cooly, not affected by the man's words.
The man sputtered "I have two officers waiting for you on the outside of town, to bring you to the hostile village."
"Pfeh, I have to walk, all the way to the other side of town?" Leon whined, obviously trying to enrage the already furious police chief.
"Anyway, what do you mean, hostile village, the whole village is a part of the cult that captured Ashley?"
"You want to mock me in my own town, you won't get to know about the hostiles, next time, watch your tongue!"
Leon rubbed his index finger on his 9mm hanggun in his right pocket, venting his anger. He got up and mumbled something about the chief being lucky his gun wasn't loaded, he didn't hear. After slamming the door he went outside,and started his trek through the town.
By the time he got to the cruiser on the other side of town, it was almost 2 p.m. He walked over to the front window, and signaled for the driver to roll down the window.
"Are you the American agent?" the officer managed to say.
Leon just nodded and jumped in the back. "So, you guys know about the hostiles in this village?"
"They're insane, some even eat flesh! We've lost three officers to them. They call themselves 'Ganado's. You a-gonna need some fire power." The man opposite the driver, another officer, handed him a plain grade handgun. Leon took his Berreta out of his pocket, and took the other hangun. He stripped the ammo from it, loaded his Berreta, and gave the gun back.
"Thanks."
"Oh, can we pull over up here,I gotta take a leak." The driver pulled over, and put the car in park.
Leon looked out the window, closing his eyes, resting them. It was a way of meditating. He felt like he became stronger. The officer came back, and after driving across an old wooden bridge, Leon asked them to stop.
"Hey, stop, I wanna take a look in that cabin up there."
The car stopped. "Good luck, cowboy, your out of your territory. Remember, they're crazy."
"You're not coming?"
"Ah...well...someones gotta watch the car. You know, so we don't get a ticket." Both officers stuttered.
Leon trekked through some leaves, making alot of noise, not really on purpose, but, oh well. He walked up to the house, and knocked thrice on the door. No answer. He opened the door and turned a corner. In front of him was a warm fireplace, with a grizzly looking man in front of it, not facing Leon.
"Excuse me, sir. I would like to ask you a few questions....Sir? Hello?" He took out a picture of Ashley Graham, "have you seen this girl? The man didn't answer. He had just started to walk away when the man turned around and spoke some Spanish, cursing, from what Leon could remember. He grabbed an axe next to the fireplace, and swung it upwards. Leon sidestepped the attack, and drew his gun.
"Freeze!.....Freeze! I will shoot!" The man kept limping towards towards him, readying the axe for another blow, Leon snapped, not warning him again. He fired three rounds. The first piercing the mans skull. The second, blasting his kneecap, dropping him to his knees. The last shot, knocking his head right off, blood splattered the walls.He was just about to wipe off the blood from his jacket when there was a loud banging at the door.
"Ah, more of 'em!? What am I gonna do, I don't even have a whole clip!" Leon ran upstairs, on the way he saw a green herb among some smashed in skulls. "Mhm, herbs, reminds me of Racoon."
As he was running upstairs heard a loud crash which alerted him that the other villagers had smashed open the window. He kept running, grabbed a box of Beretta ammo, and launched himself out a window. He rolled on the ground, spreading the damage, not getting hurt too bad. He walked over to the Ganado, watching them come outside to get him. He shot one in the chest , spun around and kicked it, knocking the other two down also. He finished them with head shots while they were down. He looked at one of the bodies, it's last shudders of life going through it, a smoking bullet in its skull.
"Eh, sorry amigo." He said, slowly picking up the local language.
He looked from side to side, feeling something was different. Then it hit him, the cruiser was gone! He ran over to where it was just minutes ago, only to find a trail of burnt rubber ending over a cliff, two sagging ropes at either side of the apparant fall. He looked down, seeing unforgiving dagger-like rocks. Then, he smelled it. The noise he never had the misfortune of noticing until now. The smell of burning flesh and decomposing bodies. He looked a ways across the gorge, where a SUV was smashed into the rocks, flames spilling from it's engine. A body was hanging out the windshield, his flesh peeling and his face grotesquely melted his skin like hardened magma. Leon looked away, disgusted. He firgured he might as well be moving on, so he started jogging down the path. A small shed was to his right, walking in he broke open two barrels with his knife, to conserve ammo. In them he found another green herb, and some hangun ammo.
He also found a typewriter. This was really seeming like Raccon City, he found tons of typewriters during his "adventure" there. He leaned over and started to type everything he had seen today, just to keep a record, seeming weaknesses in the creatures, just in case he met them again. He had just spun the piece of paper out when he heard a drop. Not anything alarming, but a kind of plop. He spun around, dropping onto one knee and drew his gun. He gasped and stumbled back when he saw what the drop was.....blood.
Across the room there was a hanging corpse, a woman, or so he thought, it was so mangled he could barely tell. A pitchfork was jammed right into her face. blood was slowly rolling down her raggy cloths and dropping to the floor. Her neck looked stretch, as the pitchfork was the only thing holding her up. He was surprised he didn't see her on the way in. He was just glad it wasn't alive. He checked his gun, making sure it had a full clip, and went outside.
His boots made a pleasent crunching as he walked down the dreary lane. On the way he had fought and downed two more of the human-like creatures.He was just about to walk across a dangerous looking bridge when three Ganado's, the nickname Leon gave the villagers, appeared across the bridge. He dropped one with a single bullet, hitting his leg, causing him to waiver and fall into the gorge. The other put his hand behind his back, curious, Leon didn't fire just yet. The Ganado pulled out a seemingly harmless stick. Leon fired two shots, done with waiting, the thing side-stepped both the shots with amazing speed. Leon reloaded quickly, but by the time he aimed his gun back at the Ganado, the stick was on fire. Then he realized, it wasn't a regular branch....it was a stick of dynamite!
Leon swiftly fired at the dynamite, blowing the Ganado to pieces, but also some of the ropes holding the bridge together. The bridge started to fall apart. Thinking quickly, Leon ran across the bridge but right before he was going to get to the other side the bridge gave way form underneath him. He jumped forward, leaping into an empty space. He muttered a quick prayer, not that he was religious. It seemed hours ticked by, although it was barely seconds. His feet miraculously found hard ground. He landed on a outcropping jutting out from the cliff side, twenty or so feet from the edge, but fifty plus feet from the spikey rocks on the bottom. His knees buckled and he lost concious.
"Hehehe, the White House security has really lost it's edge."
The speaker, Jack Krauser, a beast of a man. He was tall, well built, blond. He carried a light grey TMP strapped to his leg. A long dagger was clipped into a shoulder sheath. A jagged scar ran from an inch above his lips, to about his chin. A gift from the helicopter crash a few years back that "cost his life".
It was merely a routine VR mission back at the academy. He was supposed to show some newcomers how it was done. Him and some chump, Leon Kennedy. A real nice guy, but a chump nonetheless. Somehow, he got out in time to be unscathed. Krauser, however, managed his escape seconds before impact, his body was thrown about twenty feet away, and his face smashed into a small stone, ripping open his lip.
And now, through some twisted set of events he was back in D.C. To capture the President's daughter, Ashley Graham. But it was for a good cause. The man who he owed his life to, Albert Wesker, wished it. The former head of R.P.D. S.T.A.R.S., Wesker was a powerful man. His newest goal was to revive Umbrella's old goal: Make the ultimate biological weapon. Why he needed some punk 16 year old girl, Krauser had no idea. Yet, he didn't care, he and Albert were close, they could accomlish anything together.
Back to reality, he shook himself from his thoughts. His combat boots walked stiffly over the White House Lawn. What a racket frozen grass made. Two guards took a step or two towards the blond giant from their gate. Jack held up his gloved hand in peace. They kept their high-powered rifles trained on him though, at about abdomen level.
Krasuer flipped up an ID card, forged of course, but at the fast closing twenty foot distance, it would do. One moved forward to greet him and check his card. He made his move. He rolled forward, knocking the guard over. The other quickly raised his rifle and fired a couple rounds of M16 rounds. Krauser ducked behind a nearby metal detector, the rounds thudding into the ground around him and pinging off the metal. He popped a clip into his TMP, rose up and took aim. He let loose on the misfortunate guard, three rounds ripped through his abdomen. Krauser launched himself forward, killing the man with a jagged cut of his combat knife.
"Freeze."
He stopped. He got to careless, forgot these were highly trained military operatives. He was caught off-guard and would likely die for it. Stupid! He turned around, his mamoth firgure intimidating the guard, but his M16 didn't falter. He dropped his automatic and the knife.
"Get on your hands and knees. Who are you? Why did you kill Joe!? You're gonna pay!" The guard went to smash Krauser's jaw in with the butt of the rifle, but halfway there the owner somehow found himself staring down the wrongside of the barrel. Krasuer pulled the trigger, pulpifying the guards skull. He was good, but Krasuer was better. He still had to hurry though, if more men weren't on their way right now, they would be soon.
Feedback would be great.
"Oh god, it's so cold here."
Leon stepped out from his little tavern, jamming his hands deep into his jacket pockets. He looked up, seeing a large, rusty streetsign, adorned with grafiti. It read 'ganado way'.
"Ganado Way...hmm, sounds familiar." He took a worn looking translation pamphlet out of his back pocket and flipped it to the 'G' section.
"Ganaras'...Ganado! I knew it!" Ganado-Cattle, livestock.
"Huh, Spain is weird...Cattle Way?" He looked around, seeing the foreigners staring at him, in shock. He stopped talking to himself, a bad habbit he picked up after Racoon City. He started to think of when he started, but it was to painful. Especially thinking about her.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes, and took a left, walking towards a large building, the local police station. He would need all the help he could get, in this mission. Just his luck, right before he was hired to become Ashley Grahams bodyguard, she gets kidnapped. And by a small, unknown organization, too. Apparently, a cult.
He was thinking off all this when he nearly bumped into the whirling doors, going into the station. He pushed his way through the doors, and walked in. He immeadiately noticed the marble floors, looking almost identical to RPD. He started shivering too. The A/C was on. He was mumbling to himself about how strange these people were, when he heard a high, squeaky voice.
"Eh, excuse me, are you Le-Leon?"
"Mhm, yes." He walked up to the small receptionist, who was struggling just to speak English. She soon gave up, pointing to a door behind her. Leon walked into the room, and, seeing no one, sat down in a large, comfy, leather chair. Barely a second after he sat, a raspy voice boomed from seemingly nowhere.
"Ah, I see you've already taken a seat," a large man, with a long scar along his left cheek said rudely, after spinning his chair around to face Leon.
"You expected your guest to stand until you made little cliche'd entrance?" Leon replied cooly, not affected by the man's words.
The man sputtered "I have two officers waiting for you on the outside of town, to bring you to the hostile village."
"Pfeh, I have to walk, all the way to the other side of town?" Leon whined, obviously trying to enrage the already furious police chief.
"Anyway, what do you mean, hostile village, the whole village is a part of the cult that captured Ashley?"
"You want to mock me in my own town, you won't get to know about the hostiles, next time, watch your tongue!"
Leon rubbed his index finger on his 9mm hanggun in his right pocket, venting his anger. He got up and mumbled something about the chief being lucky his gun wasn't loaded, he didn't hear. After slamming the door he went outside,and started his trek through the town.
By the time he got to the cruiser on the other side of town, it was almost 2 p.m. He walked over to the front window, and signaled for the driver to roll down the window.
"Are you the American agent?" the officer managed to say.
Leon just nodded and jumped in the back. "So, you guys know about the hostiles in this village?"
"They're insane, some even eat flesh! We've lost three officers to them. They call themselves 'Ganado's. You a-gonna need some fire power." The man opposite the driver, another officer, handed him a plain grade handgun. Leon took his Berreta out of his pocket, and took the other hangun. He stripped the ammo from it, loaded his Berreta, and gave the gun back.
"Thanks."
"Oh, can we pull over up here,I gotta take a leak." The driver pulled over, and put the car in park.
Leon looked out the window, closing his eyes, resting them. It was a way of meditating. He felt like he became stronger. The officer came back, and after driving across an old wooden bridge, Leon asked them to stop.
"Hey, stop, I wanna take a look in that cabin up there."
The car stopped. "Good luck, cowboy, your out of your territory. Remember, they're crazy."
"You're not coming?"
"Ah...well...someones gotta watch the car. You know, so we don't get a ticket." Both officers stuttered.
Leon trekked through some leaves, making alot of noise, not really on purpose, but, oh well. He walked up to the house, and knocked thrice on the door. No answer. He opened the door and turned a corner. In front of him was a warm fireplace, with a grizzly looking man in front of it, not facing Leon.
"Excuse me, sir. I would like to ask you a few questions....Sir? Hello?" He took out a picture of Ashley Graham, "have you seen this girl? The man didn't answer. He had just started to walk away when the man turned around and spoke some Spanish, cursing, from what Leon could remember. He grabbed an axe next to the fireplace, and swung it upwards. Leon sidestepped the attack, and drew his gun.
"Freeze!.....Freeze! I will shoot!" The man kept limping towards towards him, readying the axe for another blow, Leon snapped, not warning him again. He fired three rounds. The first piercing the mans skull. The second, blasting his kneecap, dropping him to his knees. The last shot, knocking his head right off, blood splattered the walls.He was just about to wipe off the blood from his jacket when there was a loud banging at the door.
"Ah, more of 'em!? What am I gonna do, I don't even have a whole clip!" Leon ran upstairs, on the way he saw a green herb among some smashed in skulls. "Mhm, herbs, reminds me of Racoon."
As he was running upstairs heard a loud crash which alerted him that the other villagers had smashed open the window. He kept running, grabbed a box of Beretta ammo, and launched himself out a window. He rolled on the ground, spreading the damage, not getting hurt too bad. He walked over to the Ganado, watching them come outside to get him. He shot one in the chest , spun around and kicked it, knocking the other two down also. He finished them with head shots while they were down. He looked at one of the bodies, it's last shudders of life going through it, a smoking bullet in its skull.
"Eh, sorry amigo." He said, slowly picking up the local language.
He looked from side to side, feeling something was different. Then it hit him, the cruiser was gone! He ran over to where it was just minutes ago, only to find a trail of burnt rubber ending over a cliff, two sagging ropes at either side of the apparant fall. He looked down, seeing unforgiving dagger-like rocks. Then, he smelled it. The noise he never had the misfortune of noticing until now. The smell of burning flesh and decomposing bodies. He looked a ways across the gorge, where a SUV was smashed into the rocks, flames spilling from it's engine. A body was hanging out the windshield, his flesh peeling and his face grotesquely melted his skin like hardened magma. Leon looked away, disgusted. He firgured he might as well be moving on, so he started jogging down the path. A small shed was to his right, walking in he broke open two barrels with his knife, to conserve ammo. In them he found another green herb, and some hangun ammo.
He also found a typewriter. This was really seeming like Raccon City, he found tons of typewriters during his "adventure" there. He leaned over and started to type everything he had seen today, just to keep a record, seeming weaknesses in the creatures, just in case he met them again. He had just spun the piece of paper out when he heard a drop. Not anything alarming, but a kind of plop. He spun around, dropping onto one knee and drew his gun. He gasped and stumbled back when he saw what the drop was.....blood.
Across the room there was a hanging corpse, a woman, or so he thought, it was so mangled he could barely tell. A pitchfork was jammed right into her face. blood was slowly rolling down her raggy cloths and dropping to the floor. Her neck looked stretch, as the pitchfork was the only thing holding her up. He was surprised he didn't see her on the way in. He was just glad it wasn't alive. He checked his gun, making sure it had a full clip, and went outside.
His boots made a pleasent crunching as he walked down the dreary lane. On the way he had fought and downed two more of the human-like creatures.He was just about to walk across a dangerous looking bridge when three Ganado's, the nickname Leon gave the villagers, appeared across the bridge. He dropped one with a single bullet, hitting his leg, causing him to waiver and fall into the gorge. The other put his hand behind his back, curious, Leon didn't fire just yet. The Ganado pulled out a seemingly harmless stick. Leon fired two shots, done with waiting, the thing side-stepped both the shots with amazing speed. Leon reloaded quickly, but by the time he aimed his gun back at the Ganado, the stick was on fire. Then he realized, it wasn't a regular branch....it was a stick of dynamite!
Leon swiftly fired at the dynamite, blowing the Ganado to pieces, but also some of the ropes holding the bridge together. The bridge started to fall apart. Thinking quickly, Leon ran across the bridge but right before he was going to get to the other side the bridge gave way form underneath him. He jumped forward, leaping into an empty space. He muttered a quick prayer, not that he was religious. It seemed hours ticked by, although it was barely seconds. His feet miraculously found hard ground. He landed on a outcropping jutting out from the cliff side, twenty or so feet from the edge, but fifty plus feet from the spikey rocks on the bottom. His knees buckled and he lost concious.
"Hehehe, the White House security has really lost it's edge."
The speaker, Jack Krauser, a beast of a man. He was tall, well built, blond. He carried a light grey TMP strapped to his leg. A long dagger was clipped into a shoulder sheath. A jagged scar ran from an inch above his lips, to about his chin. A gift from the helicopter crash a few years back that "cost his life".
It was merely a routine VR mission back at the academy. He was supposed to show some newcomers how it was done. Him and some chump, Leon Kennedy. A real nice guy, but a chump nonetheless. Somehow, he got out in time to be unscathed. Krauser, however, managed his escape seconds before impact, his body was thrown about twenty feet away, and his face smashed into a small stone, ripping open his lip.
And now, through some twisted set of events he was back in D.C. To capture the President's daughter, Ashley Graham. But it was for a good cause. The man who he owed his life to, Albert Wesker, wished it. The former head of R.P.D. S.T.A.R.S., Wesker was a powerful man. His newest goal was to revive Umbrella's old goal: Make the ultimate biological weapon. Why he needed some punk 16 year old girl, Krauser had no idea. Yet, he didn't care, he and Albert were close, they could accomlish anything together.
Back to reality, he shook himself from his thoughts. His combat boots walked stiffly over the White House Lawn. What a racket frozen grass made. Two guards took a step or two towards the blond giant from their gate. Jack held up his gloved hand in peace. They kept their high-powered rifles trained on him though, at about abdomen level.
Krasuer flipped up an ID card, forged of course, but at the fast closing twenty foot distance, it would do. One moved forward to greet him and check his card. He made his move. He rolled forward, knocking the guard over. The other quickly raised his rifle and fired a couple rounds of M16 rounds. Krauser ducked behind a nearby metal detector, the rounds thudding into the ground around him and pinging off the metal. He popped a clip into his TMP, rose up and took aim. He let loose on the misfortunate guard, three rounds ripped through his abdomen. Krauser launched himself forward, killing the man with a jagged cut of his combat knife.
"Freeze."
He stopped. He got to careless, forgot these were highly trained military operatives. He was caught off-guard and would likely die for it. Stupid! He turned around, his mamoth firgure intimidating the guard, but his M16 didn't falter. He dropped his automatic and the knife.
"Get on your hands and knees. Who are you? Why did you kill Joe!? You're gonna pay!" The guard went to smash Krauser's jaw in with the butt of the rifle, but halfway there the owner somehow found himself staring down the wrongside of the barrel. Krasuer pulled the trigger, pulpifying the guards skull. He was good, but Krasuer was better. He still had to hurry though, if more men weren't on their way right now, they would be soon.
Feedback would be great.
