Red was born an only child to a poor family in South-East Ireland. He attended a typical Catholic school and grew up a typical kid. Though bold, he was smart enough to keep out of trouble and away from the attention of the Garda and keep away from crime. Coasting his way through school with passable grades, he went straight into work skipping college so he could support his family. Redmond wanted to explore though, so he saved as much as he could in the credit union and took out loans to travel across Europe. One of these trips brought him to a town in Russia and he instantly fell in love with the culture and people. Though happy, Red had to return back home to Ireland, trading time for money once again in his dead-end job. Though unhappy he prepared for his next trip and learned as much Russian as he could in preparation for his next adventure. In 2017 he took up a job in a call center for mobile phones and was for once making a decent wage that he could save with. After a little saving this time he bought cheap connecting flights to Chernarus then Russia.
Path to Chernarus:
9 July 2017: An ecstatic Redmond boards a morning plan in Dublin airport. Having rushed through security, his long wait for the flight is now over. As per usual in cheap flights, Red was in for cramped seats, poor treatment and delayed take offs but he didn't care. This was his latest escape from home, visiting a new country for a day then off to his favorite one, life felt good. Once landed he happily rests in a Serverograd motel, ready for morning when he will explore the town.
10 July 2017: Redmond wakes to the sound of distant explosions and fighters overhead. Looking out his window he sees the smoke to the north through the faint glow of orange to the north in the early morning night sky. He stumbles outside after quickly packing his bag in desperate search for a cab to get to the airport before it's too late. No luck, everyone ran to hide in their homes. Red goes to the police station to not only ask for where he should look, but in desperation to find out what the hell is going on. One man is there when he walks in, too busy to even notice red. Spouting quickly in Russian at his questions "I could give a shit! The Russians attack, the others are dealing with a murder tonight and you want a fucking cab? Fuck off!" as he rummages in a desk. While making a hasty exit to avoid the cop, Red hears something from inside the jail cell, like someone gasping for air. He moves to look through the bars when a naked screaming man reaches through scrambling to grab him just inches away from scratching Red's face. His eyes cloudy, black veins on his arms and neck with a foul yellow drool around his mouth. This dark visage turned red in seconds with a bang as it slumps to the floor. Brains splattered, the smell of blood mixed with gunpowder and a cop left holding a pistol. "Now will you fuck off?" Red never ran as fast in his life back to his motel. Washing his blood splattered hands and face as he watches the breaking news. Russian and Chernorussian engagements a the border, fifty dead at a storage base, and most importantly a closed air space. He was fucked. Having hid in his room to the sounds of bombs and gunfire going off for the day, Red caught almost zero sleep the next night. The vision of the man in the police station haunting him as he lay in bed. It didn't help that during the night right as he was about to fall asleep, a panicked scream and a gunshot brought him back. That was it, he knew he had to leave in the morning.
11 July 2017: It sounded like a woodpecker from hell when the distant machine gun woke him up. His things already packed he ran out of his room, the building eerily quiet besides the sound of distant gunfire. Gliding through the halls as though he is trying to almost mimic their own silence as Red goes to slip out of the building. His footfall splashes as he turns the corner of the hall. His eyes shooting to the colour of red blood on his shoes, trailing from under a room's door. He knocks violently, worried. The echo of a disturbed growl and a smashing against the door is all he's greeted with. Red backs up but not quickly enough as the door breaks and collapses on him with a screaming woman pushing behind. The adrenaline, flowing he shoves the door with it's passenger across the hall scrambling to his feet. The dazed woman slowly gets on her feet as Red collects himself. He goes to protest, but stops as he see's her blood slathered face and dress. Pieces of flesh still hanging from her mouth, she charges with a wail. He dodges her toothed tackle with a punch and she flies down the set of stairs behind him with a series of snaps and screams. He rushes, grabbing a nearby broken broomstick as a spear and waits at the top of the stairs for it to return. Nothing. With a careful peek he looks down to see her body at the bottom of the stairs along with more bodies strewn across the entrance hall. Slowly, he sneaks down daring himself to look outside. Bodies littering the streets with shuffling horrors wandering between feasting and rushing after the sound of any gunfire. Red, being a bold idiot and scared beyond words rushes across the street, through the town and into a field for safety. Barely escaping the sight of the infected, he heads south. To safety
STILL A LITTLE WIP