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'Zone' By Frost

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  02:29:38  30 April 2007
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Frosty288
Senior Resident
 

 
On forum: 03/23/2007
Messages: 182
'Zone' By Frost

This is practically a re-writing of the beginning with a twist. I did it in class when I was bored (I like writing stories I just daydream/think about) It takes the path of the game mostly until the end of the first chapter. Anyways, here you go:

Vasili sits outside of the broken shack, the damp ground below his feet. His mind racing, wondering how he got there, and why he doesn't remember anything. The clouds churn above his head, water from the previous storms still dripping coldly from the tin roofs. Vasili looks down at his PDA, his only connection to his past and the only possession he awoke with. On it, only a singly entry remains: Kill Strelek. From this message Vasili imagines that he was on this faithful mission, following his goal; rationales, reasons and morals are far from his grasp of understanding now. Lightning and thunder demoralize nearby outposts, sadly called towns in the 'zone'. The storm is always coming closer, but it never seems to reach these outskirts, only tantalizing the towns with rains, an acidic concoction, eating away at the crumbling old houses and weak limbs of the trees.

He stands up, reaffirming the chest plate in his suit, adjusting the mask to protect him from the zone. His suit is ripped and shredded, holes that seem to indicate bullet entrances but no scars on his skin. Standing now, he slowly traces the shreds with the tips of his fingers, looping in and out of the holes. Vasili pulls up his head, looking down the shabby street, fires burning, keeping men warm. The strumming of guitars, notes emanating the mood of their fellow raiders. Sequels of mutant pigs in the distance, more disturbing, the screams of men, the groans of injured S.T.A.L.K.E.R.'s in the distance, begging for help, and more often then not, forgiveness. The zone is filled with criminals, exiles from different countries and different situations; The Zone is their last refuge. The promise of rubles, blood and adventure with hard struggle; perfect for a fireside tale. It is estimated that a rookie with no experience will only live 30 minutes before being wounded or killed if not in a secure camp or group. This knowledge is little known, it's best to hope that being ignorant to the truth will make them the exception to the rule.

He puts his feet one in front of the other, walking to a seemingly endless place - he's going to the trader. Significant outposts have traders, so they are usually called 'towns'; Anything else is just and over glorified camp. Vasili passes a concrete passage; a relic from the Cold War. Inside, agitated voices whisper, as if they wanted to yell but had to be quiet. He continues down the street and comes to the end of a barbed wire fence, navigating through the gap; bones of crazed mutants and animals lie around; Testament to the usefulness of these simple defenses. Out here, on the edge of the zone, wildlife seems to be fairly normal; The grass still grows normally, the crows still fly, and the dogs still live. But in there, deep near the center, come horrible tales; Crazed humans, deformed men, blind dogs and bloodsuckers, anomalies that will throw you a hundred feet or tear you to pieces.

Vasili looks down at his suit again, a testament that he has been somewhere else in the zone. But where? And why was he there? Why is he here at all? Questions he hopes to find out, and questions he wants to justify. As he walks across the field memories come back to him, the table, grabbing the PDA from the traders hands. This is where he was brought back after being found, barley alibe, the only survivor on a 'death truck'. These 'death trucks' come from near the center of the zone, bringing back dead S.T.A.L.K.E.R.'s and adventurers. His truck, caught in a storm on the way back, tipped over. Another S.T.A.L.K.E.R. unknown to him brought him back to the trader.

As Vasili passes through the entrance to the bunker he traces his fingers on the brick walls, going down the steps to an underground room, seemingly converted from it's original purpose. He hits bottom, the end of a staircase; He approaches a looming steel blast door and begins to turn the handle. The door creaks open, its weight straining the hinges, producing a unique and unforgettable sound. He enters the room, his damp suit weighing down an already weighted man. The trader is in the back room, gnawing on a chicken leg, watching his 12" TV screen. Vasili peaks over the counter, weapons and ammunition, food and supplies; And on the wall, a line of new protective suits. He glances again down at his own, bullet holes and claw-like tears pepper the suit. Smartly, Vasili pushes down on the bell on the counter, the trader curses and moans about having to get up. As the trader sees Vasili, they flash each other a smile and a greet.
"Vasili! I thought you would have left here by now on a treasure hunt like all of the other idiots! How are you good friend?"
Vasili speaks up with a sobering voice
"No better then the Zone, I'm afraid." The trader looks at him, candily flashing a notice of understanding.
"Aye, it's been tough times since the second meltdown, things seem to be getting worse by the day." A sad silence follows, the acknowledgment of an inescapable truth. Vasili sarcastically speaks up, hoping to improve the sadness filling the room. "Ah, Savior! They can't be too bad, I did come back from the dead, you know!" They both laugh, and smalltalk quickly comes to business.

The trader takes his usual seat at the counter, puffing his import cigars. "So, what is it you have come for?" Vasili points to the wall, to a PZS-19 suit. Without any level of protection, he won't be able to venture into the other areas of the Zone. "I want one of those." Vasili lowers his hand, and the trader talks with a smile under his voice.
"Do you have 40,000 with you?" The trader smiles, Vasili searches his pockets, coming up with only 36 rubles. He looks up, and says sadly "You know I don't have that." The trader nods, whilst taking a bite of chicken, acknowledging what Vasili means. He shuffles about some papers, small note cards, it seems, and talks to Vasili. "Well then, I have a job for you, Marked one." Vasili looks up at attention at the name he was referred to. They call him this in more serious times, because when he was found he had the acronym S.T.A.L.K.E.R. tattooed on his arm. "I want you to go talk to a man named Rostek up at the camp, he needs some guys to clear out a few bandits at an abandoned car park down the road. Me? I'm interested in the man they've captured and held hostage. He has a flash drive on him with some useful information on it. Bring it to me and you'll have your suit." Vasili nods and heads out of the small room.

He walks down the street, past the same place he had sat not but 30 minutes ago. Pacing his steps, keeping them equal to occupy his time as he walks. Suddenly he hears his name being called and sees Rostek motioning for him. Vasili walks up to him, past the fire and the strumming guitars. Rostek happily engages in conversation with Vasili. "Vasili! I saw you have just come out of the traders den! Are you going to be my point man?" Kind of astonished at just how much he knew, Vasili nods in agreement. Rostek hands him a black, shining pistol, silver scratches and worn trigger showing that it was worn. Along with is 3 magazines, filled with ammunition; Hardly enough to survive on. Vasili looks at the weapon in his hand and looks up at Rostek, and says "So what now?" Rostek laughs. "Ah, you are a good man! Go up to the road there and walk, you'll come across a bridge. There you'll see a few of my good men, they'll brief you and you'll be on your way." He said all of this like it was rehearsed, and with a smile under the tone of his voice. But Vasili seems to expect this behavior from people in the Zone, so it doesn't seem to bother him anymore.

Slowly Vasili trodes down the road, heading out of the camp. A S.T.A.L.K.E.R. stands by the exit, a greenhorn that was placed there by Rostek to guard the entrance of the encampment. The S.T.A.L.K.E.R. flashes a look at Vasili, his suit basic, covered in mud of wet sleeves. Vasili looks at him, and looks him straight in the eye. The man stumbles over, almost dropping his weapon at the sight of Vasilis stone cold gray eyes. How could he protect a camp if he stumbles at the look of a man? Vasili pulls his head in front of him and keeps walking, going up the short path to the road. If one were able to, they could take this road to the heart of the Chernobyl N.P.P. if they wanted to. One foot in front of the other, his mind deep in the endless oblivion of thought, the pavement was rough, coarse with weeds, the absence of 30 years of activity until after the last meltdown. He looks forward, a small bridge covering an underpass. It's getting to sundown now, the shadows of crows covering the ground; And every once in a while a feather black as the soul of hell falls to the ground. A fire crackles from under the road, an orange glow flashing vibrantly against the bleak cold atmosphere of the zone.

Vasili walks to the side of the road, to the steps leading down to the underpass. Four men stand around the fire, weapons slung over their backs. Thunder rings in the small tunnel, and lightning flashes the sky uncontrollably, followed by the drops of rain. A man around the fire points to Vasili, and the other men turn their heads to him. Almost a sign of caution amongst them, hands sit on their holsters, ready to draw at a moments notice. Vasili speaks up before the situation gets out of hand. "Rostek sent me about the car park." One of the men walks forward, stepping slowly but like he's going to start asking him questions. "Do you have business with the trader?"
It was an odd question Vasili thought to himself, why would they care about the traders interests? He starts explaining to Rosteks men, "The trader wanted me to get a flash drive off of a captive at the car park."
"Do you know whats on it?" Snaps the grizzly haired man.
Vasili assumes somethings going on, and starts to move backwards out of the tunnel slowly. "Not really, he didn't say" The men, all walking towards him move faster now, approaching Vasili; Their weapons half drawn. The grizzly faced man talking to Vasili gets close enough to grab his shredded suit, and pulls Vasili harshly towards him. The men gather round him, and the larger one holding Vasili brings him very close. Under his deep, heaving breaths, Vasili could smell the damn grass, and the smell of smoke and dried blood. "Get out of here, you have no business with us. We could kill you right now, but that would be more explaining for us to do. Head north, away from here. By the looks of you it doesn't seem like you're fit to live outside of the Zone." He throws Vasili to the ground with the strength of ten men, and he crumbles under his own weight. Vasili scrambles to get on his feet and runs into the darkness. It's raining fiercely, his suit soaked to his sweating body. Running to the nearest cover he can find, he makes out the surfaces with his fingers. Remembering the old rusty flashlight in his rucksack; He sets it down on the ground, the metal latches clanging against the wood floor. Then he pulls out the old metal flashing, and flicks the switch. The light shines like a god for a second, and quickly fades out and dies. The house smells of rotted wood and damp floors, the air thick with humidity. Assuming it will be a long night, he lies down on his pack and goes to sleep.

End chapter 1
  16:22:45  1 May 2007
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daemonhahn
(Novice)
 
On forum: 03/19/2007
Messages: 42
wow very nice, looking forward to chapter 2 with great anticipation

hats off to you!

daemonhahn
  00:27:06  4 May 2007
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Ian_C
The man lacking a plan
(V.I.P.)

 

 
On forum: 08/02/2003
Messages: 273
Very good, I think you should write an original Stalker story rather than your own take on the game though, I can't help but feel your obvious skill is a bit wasted on this ( nothing personal, as it is very good! ).
  02:51:58  4 May 2007
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Frosty288
Senior Resident
 

 
On forum: 03/23/2007
Messages: 182

---QUOTATION---
Very good, I think you should write an original Stalker story rather than your own take on the game though, I can't help but feel your obvious skill is a bit wasted on this ( nothing personal, as it is very good! ).
---END QUOTATION---



It was more so just the beginning, I'm taking a different direction, as you might have been able to tell by the end of this chapter.
 
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