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Yes, this is my first fan-fic ever. I found something to do in my spare time.
No, I have not played EP1.
Criticisms?
------------------------------------------
Derek Sonnors walked into his Bachelor Officers' Quarters (BOQ), provided by the free goverment of humankind. The guard, a female, middle aged, was again taking a nap in her post. Derek closed the front door slowly so that he would not disturb the woman. But not quietly enough, it seemed, because at that moment she abruptly walk up and upon seeing him, saluted rather vigorously, considering that she was just sleeping moments before. Derek returned the salute and walked down the corrider to the elevators. A poster had been posted at the end of the corridor, and it seemed like it was the focus of the entire wall, if not the entire building's sole purpose of existing. And it was only standard sized, 40cm by 100cm. The poster depicted the image of a 40-something year old man, with the eyes staring into the heavens. The face would have been recognized by every free human being on the planet; the leader Gordon Freeman himself. As Derek studied the poster, he once again saw the shades of orange illustrating a sunrise in the background. The colors, while being so simple in itself, seemed to elaborate the prosperous future of humanity. Yes. Prosperity. The combine had been pushed out of Europe, save for the place once called England, into Siberia and the dessert regions of the middle east.
When he got to his quarters, Derek took off the black helmet and uniform with the gold hawk emblem of the SS (which stood for State Security). The State Security Corps were the elite, the greatest military branch under Free Humanity, and Derek took pride in being not just a enlisted grunt, but an officer of it. His 'boss' was Alyx Freeman, the wife of the 'Liberator' as the media called him. She was the High Directing Officer of the Department of State Security and its underlying branches. Derek didn't like her very much, as she seemed too self-centered, even obssesed (she had statues of herself in the lobby), but he still respected her. After all, she had fought against the Combine, and helped establish the Free Human Federation, pushing the Combine forces out of mainland Europe. Nevertheless, he turned on the TV to forget the uneventful and boring day at work.
"Jack! Jack, where are you?"
Titanic. There seemed to be a flood of twenty and plus-year-old movies being rerun in the channels. He turned the channel.
"-haps are there Combine spies in YOUR neigborhood? To report suspected spies, please call 090 without the area codes and you will be-"
Click.
"The Antlion, is a territorial animal, and it de-"
Click.
"2100 News. Today, the funeral services were held for State Security Corpsman, Sargeant John Henderson, who died at the age of 35, being killed by procom rebel fire. The procom rebels....."
Henderson. John Henderson. Derek remembered him well, and was certain that everyone who knew him would miss him greatly. He had a family, a wife and three kids, who refused to be consoled after his death and kept crying. Crying and crying. Everyone had enjoyed John's company, but he was dead. gone to the afterlife, if you prefer. Derek could remember his death vividly, as it was only two weeks ago. He thought of the crying widow and the children until he drifted off to sleep......
"Sir!" Henderson shouted. "All the houses are clear, there were no-"
Henderson fell to the ground, a 30cm long metal rod sticking out of his forehead. There was a faint sizzling sound as the blood evaporated by the heated metal. A smell, of burning human flesh and rubber spread out in the air. Derek stood, stunned, as Henderson's eyes glazed over.
Just then, another bolt of red-hot iron whizzed past him and embeded itself in the ground, with a dull thunking sound.
"SNIPER! Take cover!" Derek ordered to the remaining members of his platoon, and jumped behind a car. As he watched his men throw themselves into ditches and behind whatever objects big enough to cover them with great haste, Derek scanned the nearby structures to find the sniper. One of the houses, perhaps? But they had just cleared it out..... The others... a school, a barn, a bell tower, a-. The bell tower! It was the most logical place for the sniper to be, but the innards were to dark for visual confirmation. Hoping that his instincts were right, he set the safety of his K2M2 assualt rifle to full ammo, and shouted out an order:
"Everyone! Open fire on that bell tower, North-North-West!" He lined up his sights and began firing. The air around him filled with the rat-tat-tating of automatic gunfire, as Derek's platoon complied. One SS Corpsman fired an RPG at the opening of the bell tower, and a mutilated corpse popped out. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. His intuitive thinking had been right after all. Private Carl Forjay ran up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Sir, I think we got something here," Forjay whispered, leading Derek to a cellar. "I certainly hear talking and the sensors show movement inside."
Acknowledging with a nod and readying his weapon, he motioned Forjay to open the cellar door. Forjay kicked the door, and Derek jumped inside with his gun. However, much to his relief and surprise, inside the cellar were children, aged about ten, judging by their looks. Turning around, he saw Henderson being zipped into a body bag.
"Bastards."
Derek unlatched a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and threw it into the cellar, cloding the door as he promptly went outside.
---End chapter 1---
No, I have not played EP1.
Criticisms?
------------------------------------------
1
Derek Sonnors walked into his Bachelor Officers' Quarters (BOQ), provided by the free goverment of humankind. The guard, a female, middle aged, was again taking a nap in her post. Derek closed the front door slowly so that he would not disturb the woman. But not quietly enough, it seemed, because at that moment she abruptly walk up and upon seeing him, saluted rather vigorously, considering that she was just sleeping moments before. Derek returned the salute and walked down the corrider to the elevators. A poster had been posted at the end of the corridor, and it seemed like it was the focus of the entire wall, if not the entire building's sole purpose of existing. And it was only standard sized, 40cm by 100cm. The poster depicted the image of a 40-something year old man, with the eyes staring into the heavens. The face would have been recognized by every free human being on the planet; the leader Gordon Freeman himself. As Derek studied the poster, he once again saw the shades of orange illustrating a sunrise in the background. The colors, while being so simple in itself, seemed to elaborate the prosperous future of humanity. Yes. Prosperity. The combine had been pushed out of Europe, save for the place once called England, into Siberia and the dessert regions of the middle east.
When he got to his quarters, Derek took off the black helmet and uniform with the gold hawk emblem of the SS (which stood for State Security). The State Security Corps were the elite, the greatest military branch under Free Humanity, and Derek took pride in being not just a enlisted grunt, but an officer of it. His 'boss' was Alyx Freeman, the wife of the 'Liberator' as the media called him. She was the High Directing Officer of the Department of State Security and its underlying branches. Derek didn't like her very much, as she seemed too self-centered, even obssesed (she had statues of herself in the lobby), but he still respected her. After all, she had fought against the Combine, and helped establish the Free Human Federation, pushing the Combine forces out of mainland Europe. Nevertheless, he turned on the TV to forget the uneventful and boring day at work.
"Jack! Jack, where are you?"
Titanic. There seemed to be a flood of twenty and plus-year-old movies being rerun in the channels. He turned the channel.
"-haps are there Combine spies in YOUR neigborhood? To report suspected spies, please call 090 without the area codes and you will be-"
Click.
"The Antlion, is a territorial animal, and it de-"
Click.
"2100 News. Today, the funeral services were held for State Security Corpsman, Sargeant John Henderson, who died at the age of 35, being killed by procom rebel fire. The procom rebels....."
Henderson. John Henderson. Derek remembered him well, and was certain that everyone who knew him would miss him greatly. He had a family, a wife and three kids, who refused to be consoled after his death and kept crying. Crying and crying. Everyone had enjoyed John's company, but he was dead. gone to the afterlife, if you prefer. Derek could remember his death vividly, as it was only two weeks ago. He thought of the crying widow and the children until he drifted off to sleep......
"Sir!" Henderson shouted. "All the houses are clear, there were no-"
Henderson fell to the ground, a 30cm long metal rod sticking out of his forehead. There was a faint sizzling sound as the blood evaporated by the heated metal. A smell, of burning human flesh and rubber spread out in the air. Derek stood, stunned, as Henderson's eyes glazed over.
Just then, another bolt of red-hot iron whizzed past him and embeded itself in the ground, with a dull thunking sound.
"SNIPER! Take cover!" Derek ordered to the remaining members of his platoon, and jumped behind a car. As he watched his men throw themselves into ditches and behind whatever objects big enough to cover them with great haste, Derek scanned the nearby structures to find the sniper. One of the houses, perhaps? But they had just cleared it out..... The others... a school, a barn, a bell tower, a-. The bell tower! It was the most logical place for the sniper to be, but the innards were to dark for visual confirmation. Hoping that his instincts were right, he set the safety of his K2M2 assualt rifle to full ammo, and shouted out an order:
"Everyone! Open fire on that bell tower, North-North-West!" He lined up his sights and began firing. The air around him filled with the rat-tat-tating of automatic gunfire, as Derek's platoon complied. One SS Corpsman fired an RPG at the opening of the bell tower, and a mutilated corpse popped out. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. His intuitive thinking had been right after all. Private Carl Forjay ran up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Sir, I think we got something here," Forjay whispered, leading Derek to a cellar. "I certainly hear talking and the sensors show movement inside."
Acknowledging with a nod and readying his weapon, he motioned Forjay to open the cellar door. Forjay kicked the door, and Derek jumped inside with his gun. However, much to his relief and surprise, inside the cellar were children, aged about ten, judging by their looks. Turning around, he saw Henderson being zipped into a body bag.
"Bastards."
Derek unlatched a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and threw it into the cellar, cloding the door as he promptly went outside.
---End chapter 1---