We stand in terror, our eyes widened, at the sight of a dragon hanging off a tall building, like a lizard on a massive tree. Before we knew it, three more dragons flew by, with all of them seemingly having people riding their backs.
"Weren't those humans on the dragons?" One of my platoon members asked. I saw it too, but I refused to believe humans were able to tame such a beast, let alone the fact that dragons exist!
One of them seems to have spotted us, because they turned around and headed in our direction. We retreated back into a deserted building. We watched as the streets burned into a fiery inferno. We returned fire towards the source of the flames, and we were able to shoot one out of the sky. Although injured, the man stood up and unsheathed his long sword, and I was able to gun him down despite the confusion.
"How was he on a dragon?" "And why is he wearing such strange body armour?" Steve asked while examining the body.
The rest of us patrolled the surrounding areas as well as the skies. We concluded that the strange man was wearing heavy steel armor, much like mediaeval armour, but what was it doing in the modern world? How were they able to tame such a beast? It was unfortunate that our bullets didn't seem to penetrate the thick, tungsten-like skin.
Our thoughts were disturbed by noises coming from the main road. It sounded like thousands of men marching in perfect sequence. We ran quickly to hide in a deserted building.
"Tanks?" The rookie whispered in fear. The ground starts to rumble as the sound of the men marching fills the air, as if a tank battalion were rattling the ground, yet there are no machines of any sort in the vicinity.
We listen in horror as the rumbling abruptly comes to a halt. In the blink of an eye, the whole building started to glow. When it was finished, we were all confused as to what to do, let alone what just happened. We waited for something to happen, for someone to come in. We waited, and waited, and waited until we heard a loud chant on the other side of the wall, where we were ducked in.
I don't know what came over me, but my gut told me that we had to get out of there. So, I tried to tell my team as quietly as possible when the final chant was said. A deafening boom was heard from the whole city, and I came back to my senses with my ears ringing from the inside. I pick up my rifle and crawl to my teammates; only five, including Steve, seemed fine; the rest were either in the rubble of the once-sturdy building or reduced to limbs. The five of us stood up, trying to regroup, when we saw a wall, a metallic wall, and it was moving.
Without a moment's thought, I was shoved into a room with the only ones left. We were forced to crouch in silence because the door was blown away. We hear footsteps in the halls; we patiently wait for someone to come through, and soon, our patience pays off. Two warrior-like men walked through the broken door with swords unsheathed. Steve and I swiftly pounced on them, killing them quietly with one strike.
"Heh, not bad." Steve chuckled.
"Same goes for you." I responded.
We both signalled the remnants of our team to follow us through the hallways. Both Steve and I went first, scanning each and every room we passed by, fuelled purely by adrenaline, with pistols in hand. We fired multiple shots on any hostile figure that was unfortunate enough to fall right into our sights.
We clear the building and slowly head outside, knowing of the threat that lurks in the streets. We get out of a building and end up in some sort of apartment complex. We decide to camp up on the rooftop, thinking that we are safe from any troops. We get on top and immediately lie on our chests, using the small line of brick walls that were waist high, just enough to be concealed in the daylight.
One of the members of Steve's team suggests that we should radio headquarters to coordinate a rescue helicopter to get them back to base. We all agreed on the suggestion, and we turned on the radio.
"This is platoon leader 5 to base; we need immediate extraction; our coordinates are 50.4501°, 30.5234°."
"Do you copy? Over." Steve hastily said over the radio.We waited for what seemed to be five minutes.
"This is platoon leader 5 to base; we need immediate extraction; our coordinates are 50.4501°, 30.5234°. "Do you copy? Over." Steve repeated.
"Base do you copy?" "Hello?" Steve furiously questioned.
We waited and waited, but all we heard were the eerie static noises. It seemed as if the lines were too busy. "Why don't you switch the frequency so that we can get on different soldiers radios?" That might help, I suggested.
"Well, we've got nothing to lose, do we?" Steve replied while looking at the others.
The others gave a nod of agreement. Steve started turning the knobs and doing some magic for all I know. We watched patiently for the sound of men talking calmly on the other side. Finally, after 10 minutes of Steve tinkering with the radio, we heard something, but looking back at it now, I wish we hadn't.
Instead of hearing the calm voices of our allies, we heard rifles constantly being fired. The sound of explosions blasted through the speaker as the person holding the radio shouted commands to his squadron.
"Someone, please send help! We're surrounded, and I don't know how long we can hold them back!" He started screaming at Steve, all the while hell was breaking loose on their side.
Soon after, Steve sat upright informing us that we were moving in with the remnants of the squadron he just talked to. We all nodded in agreement as we all stood up. We walk down the stairs, making sure to be as quiet and swift as the wind. We get to the ground floor and hastily march out the front door. We ran swiftly through the empty streets, avoiding anything that seemed like a threat. Soon after, we start to hear bullets whistling and explosions booming in the distant battle get louder and louder. We get to tour battle positions, making sure that every single angle of our bubble was protected.
We soon find ourselves in the middle of fight, jumping from building to building. We soon locate the position of the soldiers that needed help. We spot them inside a building laying down on their stomachs, while retaliating at the enemy forces. Steve threw a smoke grenade to mask our entry, while trying to get our people to not shoot at us. They were relieved beyond words, as we helped them.
"What's the situation?" I asked the leader.
"Ten of our men down, we need to get out of here! Their army seems to have no end." The leader replied, whose name I later learned was Mike.
"Well we gotta outflank them to get to their artillery pieces and ranged units. The ones at the front seems to have been given steroids, or some other type of drug to make them tank bullets." I said, pointing at the two alley ways which leads us behind the enemy soldiers.
We all nod in agreement, and we also decided that my squad, partnered with Steve's squad was going to encircle the enemy warriors which, our squad members had no complaint, considering they were eager to give the enemies their due retribution for what they did to their comrades. While Mike's platoon would keep the enemies distracted.
"Don't worry Mike," I said while preparing for our departure. "There will be blood in the water, and it won't be ours." I continued reassuringly.
We go our seperate ways, and I give Steve a taunting look that read "I'm gonna get more kills". He scoffed and looked in his direction as we started moving in. We moved swiftly and quietly, trying not to gain any unnecessary attention. After hopping from ruin to ruins, we get to what seemed like the nest of the enemies' ranged units. We look over to Steve's supposed position. He finally pops his head out, surprised we got there before them.
Apparently, we were thing, as we both gave the affirmative nod. I looked over to my squad as I counted down from three, and as the final finger came down, all hell broke loose. Tracer fire was in the Ukrainian air. We shoot back and forth, gunfire riddling the air, we cut through the defences like butter. We get to the forces on the front line, blinded by rage, we massacre them, having no resent for morals. It was like our primal instincts of carnage took over, an instinct that was solely fuelled by rage, an instinct that laid dormant most of our lives, but now, it was unleashed unto the world, and it raged on like a caged beast that was set free for the first time.
"Hah, I killed more." Steve remarked while patting my shoulder with a wild smile.
"Luck is all it is." I scoff. "Any casualties?" I ask.
"Surprisingly, none." Steve replied while inspecting the bodies.
"Thank you so much for helping us through." Mike said while climbing down the mountain of ruble.
"It's our duty, so no need to thank us. Also, I have a suggestion." I replied.
"Well, what is it?" Mike continued. "Maybe we should stick together." I reply.
"That's a great idea. I agree." Everyone simultaneously said.
"Well then, it's official. What should we name our group?" Steve said.
"Name? Well, if you were to ask me, let's call ourselves: The Reapers"