Blood, sweat and arrogance.

[TheAndyShandy]

For a Few Dollars More - Soundtrack - Track 2

Several loud "Booms" sound from afar, three Mercenaries ascend two flights of stairs, taking positions on the roof of a car park overlooking Freedom's base.

Deafening explosions sound from the area around Freedom, tossing bystanders within Freedom's base askew. 'Hydra' hits the dirt, aiming down the SUSAT scope of his SA80, focusing on a triad of Freedomers within the main building, sweat dripping down his brow as several shots ring out behind him, Hydra joins in with Green and Scorpion, aiming precisely at a Freedomer visible through the cavities created by the shells that Duty has just let loose. He drops like a stone, dead.

Hydra stands, sprinting down the stairs and descending to a lower floor, focusing again on a figure clad in a SKAT suit, arrogantly bump-firing a H&K G36 in the general direction of Green and Scorpion. Focusing on the lenses, Hydra lets loose a volley of 5.56, and the Freedomer topples over the side of the roof, landing with a dull thud against the dusty floor of the Zone.

Green's voice is heard through his radio, ordering the second group of assailants to join the fray and eliminate any stragglers. From the second floor of the main building, a lone Freedomer emerges. All three of the first squad cut him down, Hydra hits something in the dark corner of the room.

Title- Old friends.

It's been months since that ordeal, and since then, Orion Platoon has fallen, I have died and so has Dragon, one of the only people I have trusted. EDIT- What do you know, the bastard's alive.
Back then, I was an it. A nobody. Mercenary scum, et cetera. Recognized for what I was, not who I was.

Hydra is dropped into a pit, his legs and hands bound. Seth Gecko smiles down at him menacingly, holding a knife in his hands.

Freedom. No longer true enemies of mine, but I still despise them for what they did. They are the scum of the Zone, driven by their varied thirst for money and illegal drug abuse. Fools, they'll fall one day. Nothing natural lives forever.

The Freedomer, 'Psycho', approaches the edge of the pit, and growls, "You're going to tell me what I need to know."
"I'm telling you, I don't know anything!" Hydra yells in response, it is an obvious lie.
The man draws his sidearm, a .50 IE Desert Eagle and levels his aim with Hydra's left kneecap, firing a single shot. Blood, sinew and bone shower the pit, and Hydra lets out an echoing scream of pain, which is heard all around Freedom's base. Nobody responds to it.

What now? Hell, I don't even know. A break? Out of the question. The Zone still has it's parasitic hold on me. The same one that has dominated my mind for the past few years.
Gearhead, Dragon and I are now once again a.. "Big, happy family", as it were. It's good to have the bastards back, but how long will it last for? Fuck if I know, I just need to enjoy it while I can.

Fuck it, I'm not thinking straight.

Log ends.

'Psycho' is having no success whatsoever. Out of pure impulse, he shoots the other kneecap and holsters his sidearm, Hydra drifts into a state of unconsciousness, blood pouring from both knees.
"Uh, Seth. I think I broke it."
Gecko strides into the room, a clutch of artifacts in his hands.

[El Presidente]

Great work Andy, well constructed and interesting to read, I look forward to reading more!

[TheAndyShandy]

Hydra lies against a freight container, Yuri Babikov facing him, clad in an Exoskeleton. He is offered his last chance.

Title- Rookies.

Rookies. The rookies are in bloom, isn't it wonderful?
No, it is not.
"HI THERE, HOW ARE YOU?"
"ARE YOU SELLING THAT GUN?"
"CAN YOU SHOOT ME PLEASE?"
Idiots, all of them. However, on the dimly bright side, I found a Berill. A fucking Berill, just lying there. I've got my plan all worked out. The plan that ALMOST succeeded until I "died". And then Stone took it further and bought that fucking Exoskeleton with all the cash on my sedated body. Bastard. Either way, I'm back on track. I plan to sell my current suit and the Berill as soon as I fit 40-50,000 and purchase this SKAT.

A series of sharp series of "BANG"s sounded from the wall to Hydra's right. Stone vaults over the wall, the Freedomer falling to the floor with a dull thud. Ace hefts himself over, another series of shots echoing around the compound. He sprints towards Hydra, untying him and lifting him to his feet, only faint scars where 'Psycho' had shot him. The two sprint into the main building.

Hah, Stone's pissed. Another rookie wants to join the Outcasts. If I were him, I'd jab him in the face and tell him where he can put his request. Right, we're going to set up a camp in the Southern ridge of the cliff face.

Log ends.

'Hydra' hastily puts on his suit, grabbing his backpack and shouldering his L85, sprinting out of the base with Ace. An SVD shot rings out, shattering a nearby window and killing the Freedomer within.

[TheAndyShandy]

Title-War.

Well, here we go again. Niko's gone and built up the prelude to a war. Not a major one, by all means. But, this is going to happen. Neutral Cross will most likely crumple in its wake, it's just an idiotic rabble of Rookies dressed in fancy suits funded by Niko's huge wallet.

Today, Gearhead and I were approached by a certain Ivan. He began to wrong-foot us, and made an empty threat. So, with that, he left the building and walked out, so we approached him to give him a little bit of sound advice.

The cold feeling of metal presses against Hydra's head.

We were almost stopped by some Rookie who was idiotic enough to lower his Colt and move towards Igor. We gunned the pair of them down, it was bound to have had consequences in the future.

Hydra and Gearhead begin to unload on the pair, killing them both.

And that's when Niko came in and decided to attempt to start a fight. Backed up by two others, we managed to convince them not to. Big mistake. They'll pay.

Hydra out.

Log Ends.

[Blazer232]

Quite interesting, very fun to read. I'm looking forward to more. Maybe I could be mentioned in one of the logs? (I'm Shadow, incase you didn't know, durr)

[TheAndyShandy]

Silent Hill 2 Soundtrack - Betrayal.
Title- I'm going now, I may be some time.

I'm going. I've had it. To death or glory, that's where. Syfer and Stone are both gone, the Outcasts have crumbled. Pripyat. That's where I'm going. Whether I die or not, does not matter. I am merely an insignificant Mercenary, who kills for money. A monster. Nothing else. Just like Dreamer said. If my old self knew this would happen, would things be different? If he were me, which he wasn't, I would make sure that it would not. But, you cannot change what has already happened. Unless you acquire a time machine, which is against the laws of reality.

In the future, they will find my corpse and say "Poor bastard..". In my dying breath, I'm going to clutch this PDA in my hands and fall to the floor. People will know.

They will know.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding. Goodbye, Zone.

End of log.

[TheAndyShandy]

Title- Dragon.

Hydra faces Dragon. Dragon speaks, saying "It's been an honor working with you, Hydra."
"It's been an honor knowing you, Dragon."

It is. If I wanted to fight alongside anyone to the death, it would be him. I remember the first day I met him, when Raven went missing. He helped. With a number of things. He's like a damn brother, an older one, though. And Gearhead. Another brotherly figure.

Together, we've been through all kinds of shit. But now, the circle has been broken. By me. I wonder what they're doing now. I've just about reached the Freedom/Red Forest checkpoint. Monolith corpses everywhere, these bastards are the best of the best. I wonder what it must look like, me walking through. Just a Mercenary with an SVD and an LR300, heading into hell.

Now, judging from this map of the area after the first disaster, there should be a winding road up to Pripyat. I'll stick by the trees, and try to get past any obstacles.

I'm off.

Wish me luck, Dragon.


Log ends.

[TheAndyShandy]

Title- The Hunt Begins.




Been a long fucking time since I've read through this shit. The hell was I smoking? Just thought I'd note today's... 'encounter' down.
Right, so.
Today, his fucking majesty himself, Blade, initiated the 'grand albino hunt'. Fun. We were sitting in Freedom's bar, recounting the times it had decided to toy with us, and the time it took my damn hand, when we heard a cry of "Holy shit, a Bloodsucker!" followed by several gunshots. Sounded like a 12 gauge and a '47, so we both got up and went down the stairs, towards the building where we thought they had come from. Just two stories up, lay the eviscerated bodies of two Rookies. Too often have I beheld such a sight, and I turned away, leaving Blade to investigate. Somehow, right the hell out of nowhere, he concludes that it must have been the Albino, so there we go. Decided to trek out of Freedom and go to the scrapyard.
Oh, and guess what? He was right.
The fucker was standing, perched atop one of the thermo-thingy-mabobs near the scrapyard (I really have no idea what the hell they're there for, it doesn't look like a fucking industrial site to me). I'd say it was waiting for us, but I don't want to. That's the last thing I need to dwell on, the fact that they're stalking us.
Long story short, other Stalkers come, run away, and so it's just Blade and I.
Oh, and a Rookie.
So, this Rookie starts talking to us, while Blade set a tree on fire. I was about to ask him what the fuck he was doing when something heavy landed on the Rookie. Yup, you guessed it.
Poor bastard never had the chance, primed a flashbang, so I used the good 'ol duck and cover technique. Thing went off, and the Albino got pissed off. Forced those tendrils down his throat and ripped his head clean off, tossing the body aside. Really wasn't having such a great day, was I?
So, Blade takes a small pipe from his pocket and showers the Albino in oil, giving me a chance to fire my .44 into the soaked chest of the creature, hoping to score a lucky hit and generate enough friction to set the fucker alight. Hey, guess what? It worked.
Oh, but that's not the best part!
Out of nowhere, it opens a mouth in its chest where the bullet struck. At this point, I don't care. I just want the fucking thing dead before I vomit all over the shop (not literally). It pinned Blade down, so I grabbed that nifty machete of his and attempted to sever the joint between its shoulder and torso. Fun.
Guess what?! IT OPENED ANOTHER FUCKING MOUTH.
Clamped my wrist between its new jaw and squeezed... would've bitten it off if it weren't for some Stalker. Heard an SVD in the distance, and it struck the Albino's back. Oh, and the bastard was bleeding internally and still on fire. So, Blade tosses another pipe of that flammable substance of his and sets it alight with a tool hitherto unknown to me. Long story short, Albino screams in pain, I recklessly pop off shots from my .44 at it, and the Stalker in the distance scores several more lucky hits.
IT FUCKING RAN AWAY.

Log end.