06-30-2007, 10:48 AM
A lone Trooper emerged from the rubble strewn Domain in the distance. He was helmetless, eyes wide like a child's, and his chest was sucking for air. His rifle swayed in hand.
"Get the hell outa here!" The man shouted. He fired behind him.
He turned his heel to a sound, at something hidden, and began retreating towards the unseen group. Halfway across the flat, another explosion sent debris and the haggard lump of another trooper airborne. Again the Trooper turned and fired. His aim was frantic, richoeting off concrete and tree trunks.
"Stalkers!" He screamed. The full-auto ran dry and his hands searched for another mag. It was his eyes bending down that saw Pyroman, if for a brief second, before slamming a fresh mag home. "All the rest dead. All dead!"
The trooper would never see his death. The grenade detonated above him, exploding with clouds of shrapnel. His chest evaporated in a cloud of gore.
Before Slash or Pyroman could voice, more echoes of war greeted them. Screams were drowned by rolling booms, the chit-chattering of rifles grew sporadic, and shouts rang. Something was keeping the Chamberlain at bay.
'Contacts one, three, and four o'clock'
"Fire! Keep firing, they're right behind us!"
Grenades detonated. Brillaint clouds of aspirated blood drifted towards the sky and the mauled bodies of other Chamberlain flew threw the air, colliding with the ground like rag dolls.