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Rifleman

Whatever's left...

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It is early morning, and Robert Smith was sitting at his makeshift camp involving a fireplace and a leaf blanket - he has no idea wherever the fuck in this hellhole of a country he's in now. The air is thick, musty and filled with the refreshing scent of the early morning dew collecting on the grass.

He looks to the east towards the rising sun, instinctively climbing to his feet - carrying, some kind of AK variant. He points the rifle in a diagonal fashion across his body, and begins firing a single round every two seconds, just enough to hear the echoing of the bullet as it flew away into nothing - after unloading eleven rounds from his Rifle, he reloaded in perfect unison, he sat back down, placed his rifle flat on the ground and began counting numbers to himself in a hushed way.

'Thirty-nine...that's how many people I'm missing...feels nice to know that I'm remembering them...honouring the dead...hah, better to pray for the living' He spoke out loud for a while. His voice hoarse and sounding slightly more like grit than it had the previous day.

'Fucking hell...this shithole's never going to be different is it?...Hell, here I am thinking I'll be able to make a difference...once Reacher's goal's complete, then what? What the fuck next?...I joined these guys to stop the bandits of Chernarus...after that...what then? I'm just a fucking soldier, what hope do I have with living out this shithole - or fucking help stop it?...Lady luck's been in my favour too many times though...'

Robert then begins rolling up his sleeves, revealing a vast array of jagged scars, all varying in depth and length.

'Been too fucking long that I've had those scars...some sick fuck carving symbols into my arms while I slept...bastard had used some knock-out shit so I couldn't wake up too...still, could be worse'

Robert then studies his Gray Fangs Patch that is on his right arm, the Grey Wolf - one of the few symbols of hope and order left in Chernarus - the camradarie of the group made them feel as close as family.

'We do what we can...but it'll never be enough...it's in our nature isn't it? Greed, malice, deceit, mistrust, retribution - all the worst of humanities traits all boiled down in one disaster that's still on-going...I know I'm not alone in knowing I've felt at least one of those feelings after Judgement Day...then there's the few like me - not necessarily selfless, but the righteous and law bringers - too few and far between...but then again - there are no such thing as "no-win scenarios"...lady luck is all we have left now, as God has clearly forsaken us - call it a test if you want, it's bullshit - no God would test our faith by causing the physical and mental anguish that whoever's left has gone through...'

Robert muttered to himself, clearly knowing he'd taken the 'Lords' name in vain. He then looks to the horizon, muttering the lords prayer to himself. 'Even as I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I shall fear no evil' being the most memorable.

The sharp and sudden sound of a twig snapping in the nearby forest made Robert jump with a start, fumbling for his rifle, grasping it before raising it to his shoulder - facing towards the east where the sound came from.

Several minutes passed, with Robert constantly wary of the direction that the twig had snapped in. He'd doused his fire and got everything ready to leave at a moments notice. Suddenly, there was movement in the trees to the north east...something large, and moving slowly - could've been a guy who was planning on sneaking up on him...

Swiftly after, a pack of yellow eyed grey wolves came out of the forest, one limping slightly at the front - obviously the Alpha male - they noticed Robert with his rifle raised, turning towards him they seen the scars he bore, and the patch he wore - and the lead Alpha did nothing...but simply nodded in the presence of a fellow wolf...

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Nicely done, well written and I think more will be needed.

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