S
Shorewalker
Guest
Well, this is a story that I've begun that I've pondered on for quite some time. I'm actually rather new at posting, as many will tell from the lack of posts and the generic icon (hopefully soon to change). But I do frequently frequent the forums, so I wouldn't call myself a stranger. Anyway, this is my story intertwined within the complex world that is Half-life. I tend to be heavily self-critical though, and don't really see this as something anyone should like. But after some encouragement from a friend I'm going ahead and posting it. So I hope you enjoy my venture into Half-Life 2...
Half-Life 2: Departure
Chapter 1 - More dead then ever
Claire woke almost immediately. A large boom and shattering glass reverberated through her ears. She lay face up on her plain white bed, covered in glass and wood splinters. Slowly, she turned her head to the left and examined the direction the noise had arisen from. The frame of her bedroom window lay in shards across the dull wooden floor, and no traces of window inside what would have been the frame's space could be seen. She realized the apparent absence of light in her room, typically reflecting into the room at what a digital clock dictated to be 7:14 AM. The clock display shined up from the floor hinting slightly to the night stand laying on its side nearby. She slid out of her bed carefully, the glass falling to the floor near her feet as she stood. She washed her face with her hands before she realized the total absence of the wall where her window would be. In its stead a segmented black barrier stood there, biting into the floor boards and walls. In disbelief, Claire walked towards the wall and placed a warm hand on its vacant surface. It drew the heat from her hand, causing her to jump back in suprise. With a slight shiver she turned and sat back on a glass-free portion of her bed. She swept her hand through her hair and closed her eyes against a riot of tears. Her sense lay tired and hardened from her day to day life, and she just plainly gathered the facts of the situation. She knew it was inevitable, but she had forced her stay in her 8th apartment, number 9967, having grown tired of the insatiable walls that forced her to move from every home she dwelled in. They seemed to grant her this much, her stay in the apartment. Although they didn't really respond at all to her persistence. That is, not until the wooden door at the face of her apartment reeled under the blow of 3 vicious knocks.
She'd seen it before, of course. The characteristic rabid knock followed by a quick foot thrust through the door. Brinks, who lived down the hall in room 34, had been without a door for months if not years ago by someone the Combine felt was an unecessary contribution to the city. Which is what comprised the true feeling anyone gathered from this practice of the Combine. Anyone whose door was removed in such a fashion most often seemed to disappear, complemented by a reassurance of their safety or lack of knowledge from the surrounding soldiers. In fact, it often seemed as though anyone who the Combine said more then a sentence to was marked for a "prolonged absence". These thoughts flashed through Claires mind immediately, and she stopped crying. Her eyes darted around the room for a place to hide, fear racing in her heart, but the door hinges leapt off their seats and followed the door to the ground. Two hollow, sunken face masks peered into the room from the hall. The foremost soldier stepped through the threshold, accompanied by a distinct electronic chime and "Target located" in a monotone electric voice. He then raised his palm towards her and casually breathed "Freeze" through his barren mask.
They took her from her apartment then, and she acquiesced dully. She felt tired of the fight against the soldiers, however mild it was. They bound her by means she didn't recognize, something that bound her hands behind her back. The strange electric chime from their communications devices flew about the room as through a cold breeze through an open window. Claire didn't find to much to pay attention to in their electric conference as they began prodding her towards the exit, but she knew instinctually that it sounded important. All see saw through her fiery, hopeless eyes was the small collection of items she'd managed to keep over the period she had stayed in City 17. Her capture transpired so quickly that she failed to notice her trinkets strewn about the floor after she woke, their shoe box container on its side. In the faint glow of a stun baton the soldier in the door activated, she could see the small piece of embroidery her mother made for her wedding, the necklace her great grandmother gave to her, and a broken picture frame. Anything else held within the box was seemed to fade from existence, her captors leading her from the apartment briskly. The hollow door frame flashed between her and the sight of her shoe box, and her arrest became all to apparent.
As they turned right past Claire's number 37 plaque, she turned her head in attempt to see anything of Brinks. Her eyes passed over a soldier staring blankly into the wall from his apartment doorway. Immediately the stark contrasting red that covered the floor drew her eyes off the statue-esque soldier. But her head snapped around as the soldiers jolted her and led her further down the hall. As they approached the stairs they passed the open door of the Edmund's apartment, and her attention shifted as fast as they walked. A single soldier standing outside the door turned rapidly and rushed in as they walked. Claire eyes followed the soldier into the apartment where she could see through the window out to the building across the street. Someone there opened a window and a few birds fled their shadowed resting spot. Suprisingly, Claire felt herself smile as her eyes moved ever so minutely past the faded milk containers and the dusty wallpaper. Her eyes journeyed to the toaster Mrs. Edmund had used to make her breakfast one day so long ago. The toaster's dull reflection and sentimental dents only hinted at the 3 figures in the room, one with a glowing baton. She then noticed, rather plainly, a long metal tube connected to a metal chassis in the concave reflection held behind Mr Edmund's back. Her eyes widened as the rifle jumped into the air.
Claire's hearing exploded. Although it may have been luck, she swore that something in the smudged toaster told her to lean back. Silently, she pushed herself back against the soldiers support. A beam of light shined through the side of the right soldiers mask as the wall burst apart with shrapnel exploding into the air. Claire closed her eyes as she was showered in debris. The support from the two soldiers grasp became limp, and she felt herself buckle to the ground. As the cold hardwood floor graced her skin, she opened her eyes. The Combine to the right of her rested on his knees for a few seconds before falling backwards, headless. Claire stood motionless for what seemed like minutes, collecting her wits. Slowly, she turned her head to find the soldier on the left in a heap, the front portion of his neck a large hole. The electric chimes rang through the left soldiers mask in a worried chatter, the soldier's eyes more dead then ever.
Thats the end of chapter 1, please give me your opinion!
Half-Life 2: Departure
Chapter 1 - More dead then ever
Claire woke almost immediately. A large boom and shattering glass reverberated through her ears. She lay face up on her plain white bed, covered in glass and wood splinters. Slowly, she turned her head to the left and examined the direction the noise had arisen from. The frame of her bedroom window lay in shards across the dull wooden floor, and no traces of window inside what would have been the frame's space could be seen. She realized the apparent absence of light in her room, typically reflecting into the room at what a digital clock dictated to be 7:14 AM. The clock display shined up from the floor hinting slightly to the night stand laying on its side nearby. She slid out of her bed carefully, the glass falling to the floor near her feet as she stood. She washed her face with her hands before she realized the total absence of the wall where her window would be. In its stead a segmented black barrier stood there, biting into the floor boards and walls. In disbelief, Claire walked towards the wall and placed a warm hand on its vacant surface. It drew the heat from her hand, causing her to jump back in suprise. With a slight shiver she turned and sat back on a glass-free portion of her bed. She swept her hand through her hair and closed her eyes against a riot of tears. Her sense lay tired and hardened from her day to day life, and she just plainly gathered the facts of the situation. She knew it was inevitable, but she had forced her stay in her 8th apartment, number 9967, having grown tired of the insatiable walls that forced her to move from every home she dwelled in. They seemed to grant her this much, her stay in the apartment. Although they didn't really respond at all to her persistence. That is, not until the wooden door at the face of her apartment reeled under the blow of 3 vicious knocks.
She'd seen it before, of course. The characteristic rabid knock followed by a quick foot thrust through the door. Brinks, who lived down the hall in room 34, had been without a door for months if not years ago by someone the Combine felt was an unecessary contribution to the city. Which is what comprised the true feeling anyone gathered from this practice of the Combine. Anyone whose door was removed in such a fashion most often seemed to disappear, complemented by a reassurance of their safety or lack of knowledge from the surrounding soldiers. In fact, it often seemed as though anyone who the Combine said more then a sentence to was marked for a "prolonged absence". These thoughts flashed through Claires mind immediately, and she stopped crying. Her eyes darted around the room for a place to hide, fear racing in her heart, but the door hinges leapt off their seats and followed the door to the ground. Two hollow, sunken face masks peered into the room from the hall. The foremost soldier stepped through the threshold, accompanied by a distinct electronic chime and "Target located" in a monotone electric voice. He then raised his palm towards her and casually breathed "Freeze" through his barren mask.
They took her from her apartment then, and she acquiesced dully. She felt tired of the fight against the soldiers, however mild it was. They bound her by means she didn't recognize, something that bound her hands behind her back. The strange electric chime from their communications devices flew about the room as through a cold breeze through an open window. Claire didn't find to much to pay attention to in their electric conference as they began prodding her towards the exit, but she knew instinctually that it sounded important. All see saw through her fiery, hopeless eyes was the small collection of items she'd managed to keep over the period she had stayed in City 17. Her capture transpired so quickly that she failed to notice her trinkets strewn about the floor after she woke, their shoe box container on its side. In the faint glow of a stun baton the soldier in the door activated, she could see the small piece of embroidery her mother made for her wedding, the necklace her great grandmother gave to her, and a broken picture frame. Anything else held within the box was seemed to fade from existence, her captors leading her from the apartment briskly. The hollow door frame flashed between her and the sight of her shoe box, and her arrest became all to apparent.
As they turned right past Claire's number 37 plaque, she turned her head in attempt to see anything of Brinks. Her eyes passed over a soldier staring blankly into the wall from his apartment doorway. Immediately the stark contrasting red that covered the floor drew her eyes off the statue-esque soldier. But her head snapped around as the soldiers jolted her and led her further down the hall. As they approached the stairs they passed the open door of the Edmund's apartment, and her attention shifted as fast as they walked. A single soldier standing outside the door turned rapidly and rushed in as they walked. Claire eyes followed the soldier into the apartment where she could see through the window out to the building across the street. Someone there opened a window and a few birds fled their shadowed resting spot. Suprisingly, Claire felt herself smile as her eyes moved ever so minutely past the faded milk containers and the dusty wallpaper. Her eyes journeyed to the toaster Mrs. Edmund had used to make her breakfast one day so long ago. The toaster's dull reflection and sentimental dents only hinted at the 3 figures in the room, one with a glowing baton. She then noticed, rather plainly, a long metal tube connected to a metal chassis in the concave reflection held behind Mr Edmund's back. Her eyes widened as the rifle jumped into the air.
Claire's hearing exploded. Although it may have been luck, she swore that something in the smudged toaster told her to lean back. Silently, she pushed herself back against the soldiers support. A beam of light shined through the side of the right soldiers mask as the wall burst apart with shrapnel exploding into the air. Claire closed her eyes as she was showered in debris. The support from the two soldiers grasp became limp, and she felt herself buckle to the ground. As the cold hardwood floor graced her skin, she opened her eyes. The Combine to the right of her rested on his knees for a few seconds before falling backwards, headless. Claire stood motionless for what seemed like minutes, collecting her wits. Slowly, she turned her head to find the soldier on the left in a heap, the front portion of his neck a large hole. The electric chimes rang through the left soldiers mask in a worried chatter, the soldier's eyes more dead then ever.
Thats the end of chapter 1, please give me your opinion!
