Metal Ringing

by 1000Fights

Birth of the Wolf-Part 2

Matthew could still feel how cold it was in the dorm. It was brisk from the air conditioning being blasted by his roommate. It had to be at most 60 degrees, when the outside temperature was about a good 103. He was finishing packing up his entire life. He had come to these dorms with such hope and vigor. He had made tons of friends, and had good relations with the dorm chiefs and managers. However, when he looked around, he could see that there was nothing left for him here.

The only thing that Matthew was going to leave was his certificates, and his coins. Ten well documented and well deserved awards that shone brightly over his bed. Along the clear, white wall was a varnished shelf, and upon it sat a stand that fit nine Air Force coins. It originally had ten, but one had been removed.

Matthew was about to pick up his bags and walk out to his car when he heard a knock at the door. He didn't bother to open it, or answer. He didn't have to when a voice came through.

"Matthew?" a masculine voice called. "Matthew, I know you're in there. I watched you go in."

The former Airman gave a long winded sigh. "Come in." he said begrudgingly.

Ordinarily, the man at the door would have taken offense to such tone, but considering the circumstances, he waved it off. The sound of a door knob being turned resonated through the empty room. In stepped the commander. He looked around to find that the room was void of anything that one could say that someone lived here. Not counting the certificates and coins on the shelf.

"Commander." Matthew deadpanned.

"Listen, Matthew." he said in a fatherly tone. "I never wanted any of this to happen to you. In fact, I never thought that anything like this would happen to you. Please, believe me when I say that the men that betrayed you . . ."

"They were not men!" the former Airman snapped. "They were bipedal animals!"

"Whatever you call them," the officer said in a somber tone. "they will be tried and prosecuted."

"Then what will happen?" Matthew asked with a sneer.

"Well, then I would expect that they go to jail." the lieutenant colonel said with confidence. "I know that the justice system would not fail with such blatant disobedience to the law, and to the laws of human rights placed against the accused."

"No!" the young man exclaimed. "What will happen is that it will all continue! You will have them placed in jail, or have a heavy fine placed on them. But you will ultimately fail to treat the problem."

"Well, what do you think should happen?" the commander asked.

"You show them and everyone else that to do what they did will be met with cold justice." The young man's tone and the way his eyes were devoid of what some people call a 'soul', suggested more than the officer would have liked to know.

"So, you like cold justice, do you?" the ranking official said. "Well, it just so happens that one of my relatives, a commander at Camp Pendleton, told me that the Corps is looking for new recruits. The Marines, have a different style of doing things than the Air Force and I think they may just have a sense of your 'cold justice'."

"You think I should become a devil dog?" Matthew's tone was more quizzical then sarcastic.

"You have the grit and it seems that you can take a beating . . . or six. So, why not?"

The former Airman thought for a moment. He didn't show any sign of approval of the idea, but then again he didn't show signs of disapproval either. "I'll think about it."
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"Come on! Hit 'em with the left hook!"

"Quit being a bitch!"

"Sweep 'em! Sweep 'em!"

Similar shouts and others called out from around the Bull Pit. Private Kelso was fighting against Private "Pile" Prince. As part of the Bull Pit rules, both contestants had to be of similar height and weight. So naturally, they stuck the smallest guy and made him fight against the biggest guy. To everyone's surprise, Kelso was actually matching up, and even beating Pile. Seems a decade in Judo and Muay Thai separately gave him the upper hand. A couple of well placed shot to the head and stomach left Private Pile on the ground.

"Should have worn your Full Metal Jacket, Private Pile!" the Drill Sergeant said. "Someone scoop him up and get the next two in." the sergeant looked around the room and found his next two contestants. Private Ramirez and Private Paulauckas. "You two! Get in there."

Matthew stepped in after Ramirez took the ground. The 'Mexican Hulk' as they called him put his arms up and curled his fingers in to pump up the crowd. The room full of trainees all cheered for their 'hero'. Some weren't even making bets on who would win, but rather on how long Paulauckas was going to last. Past two minutes was never put up. Ramirez taunted the crowd some more by rolling his arms and putting his hand up to his ear.

Unfortunately, all the gloating was for nothing. For the Mexican Hulk forgot one of the rules of the pit. Once the fighters are in the ring the match starts. He soon remembered that when Matthew came up and slammed his fist into one of Ramirez' kidneys. As the Latino arched his back in pain, the former Airman threw him down to the ground and let his fist slam into his face hard. Matthew wasted no time in using both his fists to pummel Ramirez' face in. The latino tried to fight back, but the caramel skinned man stood no chance against his opponent's malice. It stopped being a fight and turned into a massacre when two of Ramirez' teeth flew out of his mouth and his nose nearly got ripped off his face by Matthew's fist.

It took three or four people to rip Paulauckas from his victim. A smile of victory spread across his face when he saw the now unconscious body of his prey being bragged away.
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Day three in specialty training

Camp Pendalton, California

2200 PST

Most of the trainees were blacked out from the march. The survival portion of the field training also did a number on a lot of the more hardened recruits. Private Paulauckas drew the short straw and was on fire watch. He carried his M16 training weapon at the low ready position as he circled around his comrades. After the fight with Ramirez, and the other unlucky recruits, back in basic, his fellow Marines all felt uneasy around the former Airman. One of them commented on him saying, 'If that's how the Air Force really is, then I'm glad I joined the Marine Corps.' So naturally, they borderline failed almost every challenge because every one of them involved teamwork, and they were all too scared of the man to try and help him. Even in one of the most heavily unified portions of the United States Military, Matthew still was totally alone.
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Fire watch for the former Airman was coming to a close. It would soon be time to wake up a recruit and have them pull the next shift. However, something as easy as guard change wouldn't be as fun without a little excitement. With whatever evil lurked around, Matthew had the strangest feeling to look over his shoulder. From the looks of it, it just looked like a shadow. When he put his light on it, it became something worse. Out from the trees sprang a large wolf. Its powerful legs vaulting him over the bushes and toward the watchman.

Matthew acted quickly and put his rifle out to block the massive jaws of the wolf. The fangs of the hellacious creature snapped down on the weapon with as much force it took to snap cow bone. The momentum of the pounce itself was enough to make Paulauckas fly back and put the beast's jaws, while still around the weapon, within breathing distance of the new Marine. As the former Airman struggled with the beast, the other Marine trainees along with the sergeant were woken up by the tussle and snapped their own weapons up to bear. The Sergeant drew his live-firing pistol and tried to aim down the sights, but with the conflict going on, he couldn't get a clear shot.

Matthew was rolling and tussling every which way and he ended up going down the side of the hill they made camp on. The recruits sprinted towards the large wolf with the intent to kill, but the other members of the canine's pack came charging in. This time, the Sergeant didn't have to wait. He was able to fire off enough rounds to scratch off two of the beasts while the three others were smacked down by the trainees' rifles. Matthew still had his weapon in the wolf's mouth when he was able to wrestle it onto its back. He put every bit of his body weight to pin the beast down. Matthew needed to kill the damn thing, but his K-BAR was too far from him to keep the beast pinned. So, he had to improvise. He put the rifle receiver on the roof of the wolf's mouth and exposed its throat. With how he was positioned, the only viable way to kill the thing was with the weapon that his opponent was using. Matthew roared and slammed his jaws around the large canine's throat. The wolf tried to wiggle away, but with the top of his jaw being compressed and his oxygen levels getting too low, he soon succumbed to the will of death.

The new Marine unlatched his now bloody maw and got up off of the beast. All of his comrades, along with the Sergeant, raced down the hill, but stopped dead in their in their tracks in astonishment at the bloody mouthed recruit. He breathed hard, but had the face of someone who was both physically, and mentally, exhausted. It took a while for anyone to speak, and when they did, it was just the sergeant who asked if he was okay, and to call in a med-evac. Before the helicopter took off, Matthew heard one of the recruits say, "We'll see you later, man! Thanks for saving our asses! We owe you one, Wolf."
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The Wolf. The Marine Corps had dubbed the newly indoctrinated Marine as The Wolf. The story spread throughout the training group, and then having the story spread throughout the ranks of the Corps. He became somewhat of celebrity from the story. Of course, as a celebrity, you have to perform constantly. So, with all this talk, there were some of those around that thought they might want to go Wolf hunting. It took about four 'hunts' for the rest of them to realize that going out and pissing off a fellow Marine wasn't such a good idea. Especially when every time a new challenger would come around, the Wolf had to get creative. Unfortunately for anyone who crossed him, it was too late to be told that Matthew was at his most dangerous when he had to be creative.

One of the hunters was a Gunnery Sergeant. With a whole sixteen years behind him and more than a few stripes on his sleeves, one would think that the sergeant would be the victor if he ever wanted to take a few jabs at the Wolf. That would have been the case if the Wolf hadn't overheard him talking about his bad back. That was the only time that anyone had ever heard a Gunnery Sergeant beg for mercy from a Private. What freaked a lot of people out wasn't the fact that he was able to beat them. No, that was not the case. If one had enough skill and will power, that person would be near to unstoppable. No, it was that smile of his. That ultra faint, yellow tinted smile. Along with his pale blue eyes, it was a nightmare just to imagine that face. Every time someone entered the ring with him, they only had enough will to make him submit. The Wolf, on the other hand, went into every fight willing to kill his opponent. It's what made him so dangerous. He didn't care who it was. If one were to challenge him, they would have to be willing to kill him, or be killed. More than a few had put in complaints about that, and even a few had gone so far up the chain of command that they spoke face to face with the Camp Commander about him. Every time was the same, though. They all were turned away and told to not worry about it. For none of them knew how valuable having someone like The Wolf around truly was.

At least not yet.

Author's Note:

Part 3 will be up ALOT earlier than it took to put this chapter up. Sorry for the length, but I thought this would be another good cliff hanger. If I got anything wrong with any "details", if you could call my description of USMC basic detailed, then please correct me so I may make the changes. Thank you for reading.

1000Fights