Post by Pariah on May 5, 2012 23:57:18 GMT -5
Book of Wrath, Entry # 495, 0530 hours
The sun has set upon this den of serpents for the last time.
All has been prepared.
Gear prepped, weapons checked repeatedly. Charges set upon Primary and Secondary access points to compound. Tripwires set upon the game trails. Any attempts for the apis to leave this unhallowed ground will not be sucessful.
Nothing has been left to chance.
And lo, As the dawn breaks, the wrath of the lord shall reign down upon these hedons; both the poisoners and the apis alike shall be felled by steel and fire.
* My thumb snaps down upon the pen, a soft click retracting it's tip back into it's silver housing. It's almost like a switchblade slipping out of it's hilt. Fitting. I slide the pen down the spine of the journal, the consecrated record of my crusade, before closing it and slipping it snugly into it's pouch. Water and Fire proof, it's designed to keep this, the cronicle of my righteous works, from being inadvertanly desicrated.*
* This is the only evidence that I still exist... That I ever existed. It accounts for each body I have felled, each nest I have destroyed, every ounce of blood that I have spilled since this, my crusade of cleansing, began. If I should fall... this will serve to tell my story.*
* Not like that is likely to happen... not today at least.*
* I remain seated in this tree, my body obscured by the ghillie suit I constructed out of indigenous brush. A sniper-rifle to my left... the beam-weapon to my right as observe enemy movements through night-vision equiped binoculars. I am perched among the leaves like a predatory bird, I watch down upon this camp, this den of serpents, my prey, waiting for the moment to strike.*
* Intel gathered from the last operation lead me to this abomination. My former brothers in arms, the servents of the false prophet, had aligned themselves with one of the local drug cartels, guarding their shipments of poison in exchange for weapons. I smuggled myself into Columbia, and from there made my way to the border. 3 days through the jungles into Brazil, and I found it. I've been here for over 2 weeks... getting the lay of the land, learning the camps routine, gaining all vital intel that I needed to effectively 'clean house'.*
* right now, the camp is beginning to wake, soon the weary night guard will be replace with the refreshed day patrol. A perfect moment to strike. I reach back, pulling my sniper rifle into position, and begin lighting up the sight. Don't give them the chance to wake up... take out the guards, force the fresh faces up early, put them in a position where their not running on all cylinders.*
* Rush into things half asleep, and you make mistakes... miss things...*
* Like a tripwire for instance.*
* My fingers gently turn the dial on the scope... focusing in upon my killing ground. Two local guards on perimiter... one's ready to drop as it is... slumped lazily against the wall, the other making himself a bigger target with that cigarette hanging from his lips. Both easy marks... but no. To rattle a nest you need to strike at it's heart. A target within the perimeter.... one who's sudden demise won't go unnoticed.*
*this has to be a spectacle*
* Central watchtower... one of my former brothers in arms... pacing impatiently. A glint from his right eye displaying the wretched enhancements he's made to his body, desecrations that he's not making full use of. Hypocrits. They proclaim themselves humanities guardians, only to sacrifice it as soon as it becomes convinent. The wrath boils within me... a wrath that would sooner use this weapon as a bludgeoning tool... using it as Sampson used the Jawbone against the philistines. I breath slower... concentrating... finding my center... my finger gently caresses the trigger as I line up my shot into that blasphemous eye.*
* when hell's gate tear open for you.... give Stryker my regards*
* a ball of fire erupts into the morning sky... the shockwave so powerful it can even be felt from my position. Within moments, claxxtons blare, camp personel erupting from their barracs in a state of fear and confusion, all hastily dressed and improperly prepped for duty. They try their best to follow proceedure... to pull rank and face the threat accordingly, but as the second explosion tears through their base, hope of that is lost.*
* It's every man for themselves now...*
* Wild, unaimed gunfire echoes through the morning sky... the sounds of full auto and energy weapon fire mingling with the screams of the dying. I would call this an impressive start of the day...*
*... if I had been the one behind it.*
* Allready I can hear my party favors being triggered by thoes trying to flee... though it seems moot at this point. In under 5 minutes this place has exploded into a war zone, and I never even fired my shot.*
* I manuever my way out from my ghillie suit... grabbing my Beam-rifle as I repell down the tree to the jungle floor, and make a cautious B-line towards ground zero. As anxious I am to discern what occurred, I can't risk becoming a victim of my own devices.*
* choked by the thick, black smoke and ash, I navigate through the humid jungle brush, racing into the verry fires of hell... into battle.*
The sun has set upon this den of serpents for the last time.
All has been prepared.
Gear prepped, weapons checked repeatedly. Charges set upon Primary and Secondary access points to compound. Tripwires set upon the game trails. Any attempts for the apis to leave this unhallowed ground will not be sucessful.
Nothing has been left to chance.
And lo, As the dawn breaks, the wrath of the lord shall reign down upon these hedons; both the poisoners and the apis alike shall be felled by steel and fire.
* My thumb snaps down upon the pen, a soft click retracting it's tip back into it's silver housing. It's almost like a switchblade slipping out of it's hilt. Fitting. I slide the pen down the spine of the journal, the consecrated record of my crusade, before closing it and slipping it snugly into it's pouch. Water and Fire proof, it's designed to keep this, the cronicle of my righteous works, from being inadvertanly desicrated.*
* This is the only evidence that I still exist... That I ever existed. It accounts for each body I have felled, each nest I have destroyed, every ounce of blood that I have spilled since this, my crusade of cleansing, began. If I should fall... this will serve to tell my story.*
* Not like that is likely to happen... not today at least.*
* I remain seated in this tree, my body obscured by the ghillie suit I constructed out of indigenous brush. A sniper-rifle to my left... the beam-weapon to my right as observe enemy movements through night-vision equiped binoculars. I am perched among the leaves like a predatory bird, I watch down upon this camp, this den of serpents, my prey, waiting for the moment to strike.*
* Intel gathered from the last operation lead me to this abomination. My former brothers in arms, the servents of the false prophet, had aligned themselves with one of the local drug cartels, guarding their shipments of poison in exchange for weapons. I smuggled myself into Columbia, and from there made my way to the border. 3 days through the jungles into Brazil, and I found it. I've been here for over 2 weeks... getting the lay of the land, learning the camps routine, gaining all vital intel that I needed to effectively 'clean house'.*
* right now, the camp is beginning to wake, soon the weary night guard will be replace with the refreshed day patrol. A perfect moment to strike. I reach back, pulling my sniper rifle into position, and begin lighting up the sight. Don't give them the chance to wake up... take out the guards, force the fresh faces up early, put them in a position where their not running on all cylinders.*
* Rush into things half asleep, and you make mistakes... miss things...*
* Like a tripwire for instance.*
* My fingers gently turn the dial on the scope... focusing in upon my killing ground. Two local guards on perimiter... one's ready to drop as it is... slumped lazily against the wall, the other making himself a bigger target with that cigarette hanging from his lips. Both easy marks... but no. To rattle a nest you need to strike at it's heart. A target within the perimeter.... one who's sudden demise won't go unnoticed.*
*this has to be a spectacle*
* Central watchtower... one of my former brothers in arms... pacing impatiently. A glint from his right eye displaying the wretched enhancements he's made to his body, desecrations that he's not making full use of. Hypocrits. They proclaim themselves humanities guardians, only to sacrifice it as soon as it becomes convinent. The wrath boils within me... a wrath that would sooner use this weapon as a bludgeoning tool... using it as Sampson used the Jawbone against the philistines. I breath slower... concentrating... finding my center... my finger gently caresses the trigger as I line up my shot into that blasphemous eye.*
* when hell's gate tear open for you.... give Stryker my regards*
* a ball of fire erupts into the morning sky... the shockwave so powerful it can even be felt from my position. Within moments, claxxtons blare, camp personel erupting from their barracs in a state of fear and confusion, all hastily dressed and improperly prepped for duty. They try their best to follow proceedure... to pull rank and face the threat accordingly, but as the second explosion tears through their base, hope of that is lost.*
* It's every man for themselves now...*
* Wild, unaimed gunfire echoes through the morning sky... the sounds of full auto and energy weapon fire mingling with the screams of the dying. I would call this an impressive start of the day...*
*... if I had been the one behind it.*
* Allready I can hear my party favors being triggered by thoes trying to flee... though it seems moot at this point. In under 5 minutes this place has exploded into a war zone, and I never even fired my shot.*
* I manuever my way out from my ghillie suit... grabbing my Beam-rifle as I repell down the tree to the jungle floor, and make a cautious B-line towards ground zero. As anxious I am to discern what occurred, I can't risk becoming a victim of my own devices.*
* choked by the thick, black smoke and ash, I navigate through the humid jungle brush, racing into the verry fires of hell... into battle.*