SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER: Keep On Bringing Me Down
ARTIST: Forever the Sickest Kids
Author's Note: Hey y'all! Okay, so I feel pretty good about this chapter so PLEASE stick with me! I promise it'll get better! Besides, I'm planning on doing the alternative ending at the end of the series. Because technically, this is just an on-going ending to Bloody and Broken. Get it? Got it? Good. Anyway, I picked the song "Keep On Bringing Me Down" because, I really feel like at this point in his life, Cato is starting to really feel a weight on his shoulders. But that's just me. Oh, and thank you guys for all of your votes, comments, and song suggestions! It really means a lot.
QUOTE'S FROM THE SONG:
1. "I had everything and you took it from me and I hate it."
2. "Why does the world as I know it, keep on bringing me down?"
3. "No matter how hard that I try to climb I'll be pulled back down again."
4. "My thoughts run fast from me like a lethal injection."
READ ON!
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Cato put on his game face and slipped the automatic rifle over his shoulder. Of course, he was equipped with way more than that. Two pistols were snugly attached to a holder on his belt, frag, smoke, and sonic grenades were also attached to his utility belt. Extra ammo was located conveniently over his other shoulder. He was wearing the standard training uniform, and being in the mood he was currently in, he felt as if he could take on an army of a thousand men.
Earlier in the day, while he was getting prepped for his simulation, Cole had shown up once again. The dark-haired, blue-eyed fiend had claimed he wanted to apologize for his "juvenile, disgusting behavior". As always, that wasn't the case. He had just wanted Cato's time slot for the training simulation. To be quite frank, Cato couldn't have cared less when his training was, but, since he had something Cole wanted and couldn't have, he didn't give his slot to him.
Suddenly, there was a brief crackling noise before Cato's chief's voice came through the headset in his helmet. "You listen to me no matter what, got it, Kid?" the voice said.
"Yes sir, " Cato replied, flipping the clear visor on his helmet down over his face.
Somewhere in a control center watching the computer's monitors, was the chief, whom Cato had yet to meet. He had been told, though, that the man who was basically Cato's only chance of "survival" through the simulation, had closely-cropped grayish-black hair, blue eyes, and had an outstanding posture. He sounded weak, to Cato.
Cato left the small preparation, which held a row of five pure white lockers, two metal benches, some extra ammo and armor, and entered the large simulation. Some lights flickered and the sound of a machine powering up could be heard, before the scene changed and gave off the illusion that he was standing in the middle of a road in a recently bombed district.
Black smoke rose up from the ashes of what he assumed used to be houses, and screams could be faintly heard off in the distance. The road covered in dirt, water, and what appeared to be blood, as the whole place wreaked unpleasantly of the stuff.
There was yet another crackling noise through his headset, signaling that Chief (as Cato had decided to nickname him until he found out his name) was about to speak. "There is a warehouse about half a mile up. Enter it from the south side. There will be enemies." Another crackling noise, before the headset settled in complete silence.
