• Published 30th Nov 2011
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Call of Duty - Equestrian Warfare - ChromeRegios



After a Disastrous mission gone wrong, Jackson was left for dead at a nucler explosion when he foundhimself to be the first human... in a whole new world.

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Chapter 3 - A Wing and a Prayer

With a curt goodbye, Vasquez leaves the cave to find food, get some air and process everything that was happening, wandering off into the forest twilight alone, talking to himself while in the way.

“Nukes… chopper crash… talking ponies… giant multi-headed snakes… What’s next?!” the feeling-anything-but-in-charge marine officer mumbles, his grasp on reality tenuous, thinking non-stop about the previous day and everything the talking mare had told them earlier.

“Man, I have to stop drinking spiked coffee in the middle of the night. It makes me see some real weird shit,” he tells himself, still half-thinking and hoping that it was all a dream and he was about to wake up back at base, gearing up for the day’s action. I’d rather face a rebel nuke than… THIS! he mentally adds, for at least a nuke is a known quantity. This strange new world he finds himself in is decidedly not.

As the incredible illogic of the situation continues to weigh on him, Vasquez tries to shake off the feeling on insanity slowly creeping through his mind. As he walks through the woods he stumbles on what appears to be a marine-issue backpack. Thinking that somebody just left it there, he approaches and examines it in the glow of of his flashlight.

Reading, he finds it belongs to someone he knows—Lieutenant Michael Hudson, a Marine in the 6th Force Recon regiment. He had last seen his fellow officer heading into the capital leading a separate raid before they got separated.

“But why is it here? Is he nearby?” he asks himself, frowning, still hopeful of finding another familiar face. As he turns the corner he nearly runs right into… a statue of a person. And oddly enough, its facial features seem familiar.

“What the fuck is a statue doing here?” he asks nobody in particular. He studies it closely in the low light of his red-filtered bayonet-mounted light, which is of only limited usefulness without his night vision gear, but he isn’t going to chance using his floodlight setting. The statue is a perfect sculpture of a marine recon trooper. It even has a stone rifle and equipment etched into his form; every detail is perfect down to the dog tags hanging around his neck, which Vasquez reads the name engraved in the stone necklace…

Lt. Hudson, Michael…

“What the fuck?!” He stumbles backwards and nearly falls down in shock, only then recalling Fluttershy’s warning of a Medusa-like creature who could turn victims to stone just by staring at them.

Wait… she really MEANT IT? At that moment, he goes pale, all of the blood in his face draining as he thinks of what such a creature could do to him… and what it apparently has already done. Hearing a sudden slithering sound behind him, the hairs on his neck stand straight up. He turns around slowly and finds… a snake-like creature with the head of a chicken, regarding him with its hypnotic red eyes.

That must be the cockatrice! he swallowed, quickly averting his gaze, hoping against hope that the creature had to make eye contact in order to petrify him. Vasquez backs away slowly, not making any sudden moves, his pistol feeling leaden in his hand. Just as he is about to raise it, he suddenly feels stiff and falls backwards, and quickly realizes the cause…

His legs are beginning to turn to stone!

“This is not freaking good!” He tries to raise the gun only to find he can no longer pull the trigger for his hand is now rock. He tries to crawl away but only made a couple of meters away before he could no longer move, the petrification effect now creeping up his sides, nearing his chest.

Realizing he only has seconds left, the marine Lieutenant takes the only option left to him. He draws his combat knife in his good hand and waits for the snake to come close enough… then with a single desperate move, one he’d last used on a rebel soldier who had stumbled onto his hiding place, slices its head off! As the chicken-headed snake falls dead on the ground, the red glow fades from its eyes and his body slowly turns back to normal, leaving him shaking badly, finally forced to accept that this world he finds himself in is only too real. With that, he stands up and sees that Michael isn’t returning to his normal self.

This isn’t good! he thought, a sense of panic creeping back into him. Killing the creature turned him back to his normal state, so why hadn’t Hudson turned back? Maybe it’s not reversible after you’re turned completely to stone? he reasoned. Waiting long enough to make sure, he realized there was nothing more he could do, so he left him there, taking his discarded and non-petrified backpack as he went to return to the cave.

Trying to distract himself from his fears and frantic thoughts, Vasquez thinks about his past, when he was first assigned to the 4th Marine Infantry Division as a Second Lieutenant fresh out of Officer Candidate School at Quantico.

“It was in Iraq, when we went to the 4th division. Man those were the days. I hate to be those sorry ass bastards right now. They probably had enough of crawling in mud, training in the rain, running in the fucking hot sun… hell, maybe Dirk is still there for all I know,” he tells himself while he jogs down the path towards the cave, his eyes straining to see any other possible threats in the red beam of his flashlight cutting only weakly through the now near-total darkness of the woods.

“Basically… It was a hell hole. Dirk was our commanding officer in the camp, and nobody fucked with him. He was the meanest and the most badass marine in our bunker, he was all like ‘DO THIS’ and ‘DO THAT’ shit, man. If you had more guts and less pride like the other guy has… you might go out of the camp alive at the very least… or could end up being shot for disobeying a direct order from a Superior.”

He shakes his head at the memory. “I know shooting a soldier is unfair and unjust, especially when the order itself is. But hey… like he always said: ‘This isn’t kindergarten kid! We’re at war… and we don’t need a weak minded person in our Corps!’ That was his motto, and as harsh as he was, there was no question he got results,” He continues on walking as he remembers his past assignments from Dirk, who in many ways became his mentor.

“When he gives assignments, he takes it VERY seriously. One false move and it’s off to the ‘Box’ with you. The same goes for the time, if he wants something by a certain time, he really means it and doesn’t listen to your excuses. Some say he’s a slave driver. But I don’t know, if anything, he’s more like an overseer to me…”

As he makes his way back, something else catches his ear; a muffled rustle of movement in the tall grass downtrail. Quickly extinguishing his flashlight, he investigates the noise, pistol drawn and ready to fire, taking no chances after his close encounter with the cockatrice. He tracks the source of the noise in a small clearing in the forest… and hides behind the treeline just outside its perimeter, wishing his night vision goggles were working as he scans the darkened surroundings for anyone who could be there…

Just then he notices what appears to be a large upright and partially clothed dog emerge from a hidden tunnel, walking on its hind legs! With a jeweled collar and abnormally large eyes and paws, it stops and waits, barking something back towards the hole behind it. As if in answer, another canine-like creature came out, followed by a third. They were a total of three dogs, and there were all as big or bigger than him! Worse, they had all started sniffing the air, as if they could scent him, talking back and forth in their own language and then pointing in the general direction of his location.

“Shit… what now?” Vasquez levels his pistol and prepares to shoot. But before he could fire at them, he remembers the talking mare said that other intelligent races lived in her world, not just ponies, and he had no right to shoot them when he had no idea if they were actually a threat. Taking a chance since Fluttershy proved friendly, Vasquez puts his pistol in safety and decides it’s best to show himself.

“Hey, there dogs!” Vasquez waves and smiles to the dog-like beings as he goes closer to them. “I’m a friend.”

Startled by his alien appearance, the dogs don’t immediately respond until one—the leader?—snarls and growls at Vasquez, barking an order that has the others immediately moving to either side as if to flank him, each pulling out would looked to be like to be some kind of snare or sling weapon. Instantly reclassifying the group from potentially friendly to hostile, the Marine Lieutenant raises his pistol again and takes a step back.

“Hey! Back off!” he warns them, but not recognizing his weapon, the two flanking dogs charge Vasquez, leaving him no choice but to defend himself. He fires three rounds at the leftmost one and one his its head, killing it on the spot… before swinging his pistol right and putting a half dozen more rounds into the rightmost, putting him down just before he reaches the marine Lieutenant!

The third one is not idle, giving a enraged howl and charging the marine. It was the largest of the group, and Vasquez instantly realized he would not go down easily and he needed a headshot to do the job. Setting his sights; and knowing he has at least six rounds remaining in the 15-round magazine of his standard Marine issue M9A1 9mm Beretta, he pulls the trigger and fires….

Click!

The pistol gives the most horrifying sound ever to a Marine’s ear… the weapon is jammed!

Sensing an opportunity, the dog charges Vasquez, who fights frantically to clear the misfired round… but the dog is too quick and grabs him, fighting with him for the strange weapon. Vasquez struggles to break free of the dogs uncannily strong grip, its teeth bared, trying to get at his throat as its claws start to dig into his flesh. But the veteran marine has gone hand to hand with Russian rebels and Iraqi insurgents and refuses to go down without a fight!

He immediately pokes the oversized eye of the dog, causing it to yelp in pain and loosen its grip just enough for the Lieutenant to break free. Now enraged, the dog gets really angry and lets out a frustrated snarl, charging the Marine once more. His pistol useless, Vasquez pulls free his hunting knife that Jackson gave him earlier and prepares to defend himself. But the dog is too quick and determined, colliding hard with Vasquez, knocking the blade from his grasp. Losing their collective balance in their struggle, the pair roll downhill towards a nearby ledge of uncertain height, nearly invisible in the deepening gloom but apparent by the bank of fog collecting in it.

Recognizing the danger, the marine lieutenant tries to kick the dog out of its way just before they go over the edge, but the bipedal canine is too heavy for him, grabbing onto his uniform with his claws to save himself, trying to climb back up him. Holding onto a protruding branch for dear life, the marine punches the dog in the face repeatedly with his free hand, knocking out a couple teeth but otherwise just infuriating his assailant further.

Realizing the strange creature has a strength advantage on him, Vasquez realizes he has no options left but to let them fall and hope for the best; that the gorge isn’t too deep and he can make his dog take the impact and reach his backup knife. Vasquez utters a silent prayer and lets out a marine battle cry before letting go, allowing himself to fall down the ravine…

Having already experienced one live-saving miracle that day, he can only pray he will yet be granted a second.