MR fanfics

well i'm here to announce that my chimera fan fic has been massively inflated in my mind and therefore will consist of several different chapters. so heres chapter one and hopefully chapter two will come tomorrow.

   A slight breeze whips across an open desert plain. As the heat rises from the ground a long caravan of vehicles speeds along a barely marked road. The convoy is a collection of old, beat up military jeeps and troop trucks. They are painted a sandy color to blend in with the desert and have mismatched solar panels attached to them on all of their flat surfaces. Inside one of the canvas covered troop trucks sit human soldiers on long benches the run its length. They wear light gray military uniforms similar in style to those of the Vietnam War Era. The uniform consist of tall black boots, cargo pants, and a heavy duty, long sleeved shirt with several pockets on its front. All but a few wear low sitting helmets that looked like they were crafted from a single sheet of metal. While the helmets looked like they were originally buffed to a shiny finish they were now covered in the grime of the desert and quite dull in color. Most of the soldiers have their heads downturned, staring at the pep rifles that are lined up down the center of the truck bed, one soldier though , sitting towards the open end of the of the truck, is writing in a small black book. He looks to be a boy of only 15 or so and is much younger than the rest of the soldiers in the truck. His hair is dirty blonde and reaches down past the bottom of his already low helmet. He momentary glances out the back of the truck and looks out at the desert before turning his dark brown eyes back at his writings.

   “Day 235 of military service. Immediately following sermon this morning we were informed that the whole company would be setting out to reinforce the Union’s newly founded ‘Camp Burial’. Who decides to name a camp ‘Burial’ anyways? I guess it’s meant to scare off the chimera or something. Not overly enthused about this assignment either. Burial is right on the border and the front lines. It seems like we just got back from the northern front and now we’re getting shipped to this desert. Major Bashment told me that before the war this place was called ‘Afghanistan’. Apparently it was a desert even back then, guess there wasn’t much to destroy in the first place. At least this assignment will allow me a chance to meet with father. Slava Bogu.”

   - Fadei Asimov

Fadei closed up the book and tucked it along with his short pencil into his breast pocket. As he did so the front vehicle of the convoy crested a hill and was greeted by the site of Camp Burial. The camp stood alone in the desert with nothing so much as a shrub surrounding it. In fact the only thing in the surrounding area except for flat desert was a large mountain range far in the distance that appeared black against the pale horizon. The camp itself was equally harsh in appearance. It was surrounded in tall concrete walls that were collapsed in several places with the gaps being filled in with gratuitous amounts of barbed wire. The majority of the buildings in the camp were made of sheet metal with canvas roofs. Other buildings which were nearer the center of the camp however were much more proper in shape and appeared to be made of mud bricks. However only their walls were of mud brick construction and had roofs of canvas or sheet metal. The camps center piece however were three large hangers that were of prewar construction and had been preserved by the desert heat. They were all lined up in a row with the center hanger being twice as large as the two adjacent to it. While the two smaller hangers were filled with vehicles, the large hanger had been sectioned off into a mass of different rooms with the help of wood imported from the Union’s northern territories where timber was plentiful. The main hanger was the command building of base. Officers would meet there to discuss battle plans and the officer barracks was located there as well. The main hanger also served the most important function of the base as well since it was the location of the base’s chapel.

   The caravan reached the entrance to the base and stopped at the simple gate that had been set up. The driver of the front vehicle exchange pleasantries with the gate guard and the guard waved his hand towards the other guard posted at the gate. The secondary guard pushed down on the end of a long beam. The other side of the beam which was painted in black and yellow stripes rose up into the air and allowed the convoy to pass on through.

   As the vehicles drove through the base towards one of the secondary hangers Fadei moved towards the back of the truck and looked out. They were passing through a preverbal jungle of sheet metal shacks which served any purpose from barracks to kitchen. Many tarps and canvases had also been tied up between the huts so that the paths between them were rather dark even in the deserts bright sunlight. As they moved on Fadei caught a glance at a large open area where large numbers of mud bricks were drying in the sun, presumably to help convert the entire base from sheet metal shacks to mud brick buildings. However another hut quickly cut off Fadei’s view. After observing the camp for another few minutes as the caravan moved through the buildings Fadei couldn’t help but notice how few soldiers there were in comparison to the number of buildings. He turned his head downwards in thought. “Guess we’re going to be here for a while.” As Fadei finished this thought his truck exited the shack area and entered a large circular court yard in front of the hangers. In the center of the courtyard stood a tall rusty flag pole. At the top of the pole flew a hand stitched flag. It was deep red in color and in the center of it sported a saber crossed over an olive branch. The truck pulled to a stop. Fadei and the other soldiers immediately grabbed up their PEP rifles and disembarked out the back of the truck. The soldiers in the other trucks were also piling out and forming up in front of the flag pole and facing towards the hangers. They lined up four men deep and twenty five across, spaced far enough apart that there was enough space for several men to walk side by side between them in any which direction.

   A few moments later three men appeared from the main hanger. They were all officers and were dressed in formal uniform. The uniform was the same color as the clothes that the soldiers were wearing and seemed to have silver buttons everyone one looked. While the two officers on the sides seemed to be having a terrible time dealing with the heat, the man in the center seemed unaffected. He appeared to be in his late forties and had graying black hair and beard. His hair was combed straight back which allowed the sun to reflect off of his forehead. He had eyes were so dark brown that they were almost black and they seemed to stare straight through you. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood up even straighter than he had been. “My name is Major General Efim Asimov! Welcome to Camp Burial!”

	Author	Topic: MR fanfics (Read 1043 times)
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