Jump to content
Server time: 2018-07-19, 02:21 WE ARE RECRUITING

Sign in to follow this  

Just keep running

Recommended Posts

The heavy metal door door creaked open, light peering through and illuminating the room.


A man stood in the doorway, pinching his nose at the stench of the prison cell he had just entered.

"Come on, lets go."

Something stirred in the corner of the cell. A thin, starved bearded creature.

"W-where are you taking me? More tests? I wont! I wont go!"

The man at the doorway sighed.

"Its not for tests. Come on, we're moving you. We're evacuating everyone from this base, including the prisoners.

The bearded man stood up on woobly legs, staring at his warden.

"Fuck you. I've heard things. I know why you're fleeing. Fleeing like rats of a sunken ship. You lost. Your got your supremacist asses kicked by a bunch of "natives". And now you're gonna send me off to some other hellhole so you can continue to run whatever other tests you want on me.

Fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK YOU! Im not moving an inch. Im not making this easy for you."

The warden didnt seem impressed. He reached for something in his belt, a small rod of sorts. He flicked a switch on the handle, which briefly illuminated the cell with the light of the electric current that sparked to life at the top of the rod.

"Suit yourself."

2 hours later

The prisoner curled together at the back of the helicopter, his hands handcuffed together to the front of him.


Conciousness hit him like a ton of bricks, the pain in his neck where the rod had hit still very much real and present. They always seemed to set the charge in those things too high.

Infront of him sat a guard, his weapon in his lap. He grinned, apparantly not considering the worn out prisoner much of a threat. Behind him, the pilots of the helicopter. Two of them.


The prisoner quickly assessed the situation and glanced out over the terrain they were flying across. Water. That wasnt going to work well. But he was desperate. For months he had suffered in that facility. For months he had been subject to tests and interrigation and all sorts of torture he never even heard of before.

"Where are w-we going?" the prisoner asked the guard.

"Shut up you filthy fuck. Just sit there and be quiet."

The man and the pilots werent part of the usual guard detail. They seemed less tense, equipped differently and with a different uniform. Mercs, maybe. It sure wasnt above these assholes to take payment from just about anyone. Seeing the recent circumstances his captors found themselves in it sure would make sense for them to hire mercs too.

The prisoner sat back, running his cuffed hands through his scruffy beard. He hadnt shaved for so long, let alone gotten a change of clothes or a bath. He probably had any number of diseases and lice at this point and he hadnt eaten properly for weeks. The rations had been thinned down. He knew what was coming. They were done interrigating him, they had gotten everything they wanted out of him both as a guinea pig and as a source of intel.

Not that he had told them much. Nothing useful at least, he had made sure of that. Sometimes they had realized that, and that had cost him. He rubbed the stump on his head that used to be his left earlobe. The fingernails were the worst though. Even thinking about it made him cringe. Nails are not meant to go under there.

And now it was the end. Once this helicopter had landed they would kill him and use his corpse for some horrible final experiment. He knew it. But he wasnt quite willing to accept it.

The pilots spoke something to each other that wasnt quite audible over the considerable noise that the Ka-60 was making, but the prisoner could make out "Zagoria" on one of the pilot's lips. They were...in Chernarus?

Suddenly land appeared under the helicopter. They had reached the mainland. The guard looked out towards the land briefly and the prisoner realized this could be his only opportunity. He leaped to the chance.

3 minutes later

The prisoner blinked his eyes, blood running from his forhead. The gash wasnt that deep, could've been a lot worse. Through some sort of miracle he had escaped other wounds. The pilots hadnt been that lucky. The guard was nowhere to be seen, hopefully dead.

The man, no longer a prisoner, backed up from the crash site and stared at the mess.


He was free, he couldnt believe it. After all this time. Then he realized that the pilots regurly checked in with some sort of control tower. He needed to move, quickly.


So he turned around and ran through the woods as hard as he could. "Just keep running!" he thought to himself, moving through the underbrush at a speed that definetly caused its fair share of small cuts and bruises.

He needed to reach some sort of radio. Tom needed help, and he needed to know if some of his rangers were still alive.

Share this post

Link to post


Share this post

Link to post

So stealing that song into the story thread. Thank you ninja.

Share this post

Link to post

The start of something BIG !!

Share this post

Link to post


Share this post

Link to post

#torconfirmed #Ranger4Lyf #tomwreckscouncilscrubs

Share this post

Link to post

. . . .

Share this post

Link to post

As always mate, good work :-)

Share this post

Link to post

Good read. sounds the like the return of the outpost rangers. Good to see you back.

Share this post

Link to post
Sign in to follow this  

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.