The Horrors Of The Bunker

First Day On The Job EP. 1

A young soldier lays in a filthy bed, memories of his past slowly distorting the little of him that was not completely insane. He tries his best to forget if he could; he would dig his bare fingers Into the part of his brain that entrenches terrible memories and viciously ripped that piece of gray matter from his skull.

He shoots up out of bed wielding his handgun with bloodshot eyes and his heart racing so loud it almost completely suffocates out the sounds of the swamp horrors. The cat-sized buzzing insects looking for fresh corpses and the distant faint sounds of gunfire have become all too common, but those eerie sounds brought him comfort because he finally escaped the screams of his dying comrades.

He looks around the small room, seeing his dented but polished helmet and his custom-made Winchester trench shotgun lying off to the side of his bed, a bottle of strong sleep pills spread over his desk, and an empty bottle of blueberry moonshine with only a swallow left at the bottom.

He takes a moment to appreciate his stupidity for trying to force himself to sleep even if it was good for him. He popped his back with a sickening crunch. He kind of wished he had enough money to get a spine but then grabbed all his stuff only long leaving behind his empty bottle of moonshine. He readies himself for the horrors of the swamp by doing his breathing exercises, before remembering this time, it'd be the bunker horrors.

He walks out of his room smelling, something he was all too used to in his time as a soldier. He sees the ferry boat slowly pushing through the swamp water as if the water was made out of coagulated blood, thick and iron-rich due to the harsh chemicals unleashed into the swamp during The Great Wars.

The Swamp water had a unique color to it, a greenish red. Nobody looked into it, mostly because of the vicious flesh-eating fish that surely put a stop to it or a weird mutant animal that is all too happy to eat you when you get too close to the water.

He looks over his gear: 3 boxes of shells, a large serrated machete, 4 days of rations, an M1911 pistol, and 3 clips. It wasn't the best, and it wasn't the worst, better than nothing, he thinks to himself.

He hears scraping off the side of the ferry boat. He wonders if it's his companion who decides to go for a swim. He tells her it is dangerous, but she doesn't listen. He cautiously walks over to the sound while slowly raising his shotgun. He saw a half-mutilated corpse with chunks of metal sticking out of its rotten flesh as it tried desperately to climb aboard, even going so far as to break its fingers in its futile attempt.

The corpse looked up, making full eye contact with the Soldier. Before a word was spoken, The undead Soldier's head was blasted off his shoulders, leaving behind a red mist that the mutated fish happily gulped down their gullets; the undead soldier's lifeless body fell back into the water; a Deep Bayou accent voice spoke to him over the intercom.

Saying ( I see you finally awake. I guess sleeping pills and cheap moonshine couldn't keep you down for long anyway. Ain't that right, Soldier? But seriously, though, The caretaker left you and your reptilian friend a letter for the both of you; I think it had something to do with the newly discovered bunker; you guys just be safe. Ain't the first time she's almost got someone killed due to her ambitions anyway Happy Hunting. )

A molding and dirty brown letter sat on a rusty table and it simply had three words written in thick black ink (Investigate The Bunker). She was the boss. Who was he to refuse his boss or her questionable demands as long as he was getting paid and killing something he didn't care about the little details that just complicate things.

The speakers turn off with a click. The Soldier ain't never met the man in person, always behind the intercom, but the ferryman was always kind enough to leave food and Medicine for his passengers, but rarely ever it leaves the safety of his room.

In all honesty, the mysterious ferryman was one of the nicest people you can meet in the swamp. When he saw his passenger was having trouble sleeping, he just did what any other local would have done.

If you ain't understanding what I'm laying down he was the one who gave him the Moonshine and sleeping pills late at night while The Soldier was on the toilet. So he avoids all human contact at all costs; I'm not going to lie. He has some weird quirks, but he means well. To be fair, the swamp was a dangerous place with dangerous people who wouldn't be cautious.

Finally, the ferry boat landed on mushy, muddy land; he placed a lit cigar in his mouth and looked toward the small camp of mercenaries and treasure hunters surrounding a large bunker, making a makeshift town around it just to exploit treasure hunters and greedy mercenaries an all to common practice that keeps their hellish economy alive.