The Fort In Death Valley

Prolouge, Jase

Have you ever been to a prison before? Probably not. Let me be the one to tell you. It's not just you behind bars with nothing but a bed and toilet, nah. You actually do shit for once.
    In my particular prison, I had to interact with people. Morbid idea, I know. Well, maybe you've got some ideas on what it's like. Cellmates, filer in the cake, the chair; we didn't have any of those. It's just cell, food, and torture.
    Just be thankful you haven't been to that sort of jail. I'd place a bet if you'd think you could survived like I did.

    Oh, fuck. Where are my manners? I must've left them back at the cell... My name is Jason. And no, not that hockey mask wearing serial killer... Everyone just calls me "Jase" around here. I used to be a fancy candy-ass soldier working for an alliance called Builder's League United, or what the folks called BLU. And what I did? Sure as hell didn't build anything. I lived for destruction.

    With a rocket launcher, a shotgun, and strangely enough, a shovel in my hands, I killed a few unlucky men and women alike. Call me whatever you'd like, but I loved it. Every damn second of it. And I get paid for it too. 'Nothing could go wrong at this point,' I thought, all those years back. Until some bastards made one or a few changes.

    A couple of people decided not to fight anymore. Damn, those people were brain-dead to not know what they were doing. And you know what? They actually fucking did it.
   The fuckers managed to disband Reliable Excavation and Demolition (The people I was fighting with earlier), and Builders League United (My Team [duh]). Being the idiot I was back then,I didn't do jack chicken shit about it. Nope. Not me.

   I decided to live a normal life for once. You know, go get a decent job, listen to the radio, read the news, blah blah blah, boring boring boring. I even considered getting a girlfriend at the time. The thought still nauseates me today. I was Twenty-Four years old by the time. I should probably listen to my parents and neighbors back at the cells and "Lighten the fuck up, Jase." But why should I? It's not like some girl in a white, sparkly dress that could pull off some red lipstick could take a guy that decapitates people's heads with a shovel.
   A mother fucking shovel. Oh well. Nothing to worry about now.

   And that is my backstory from about three years ago. Coming up next is the back story from about six months ago. Here it comes...

    I was out and about, doing some mundane task (Take a guess, anything your mind puts to it). Not to make this boring or anything, I was just straight up kidnapped. I don't remember anything from then, I was just cleaning up my place a little bit, and then it went black. Because that's how it goes when some retard gets kidnapped.

    I was brought to this giant facility kind of place. To give you a picture, it looked like some big-ass milk factory. It had a ranch near it too, just to make it look like the place was innocent. Sure as hell wasn't.
  The place belonged to an organization named GoLD. (I don't know what the abbreviation meant yet. Fuck you.) An organization gathered to kill every top notch fighter there ever was. And thank God that they didn't bother to check if I were one of them.
   The place had all sorts of people there. They will be divided in three categories. 1, In charge, 2, Helping out (in someway), and 3, literally everyone else.

Category one.

    The God-tier, Top Dog of this joint, is a man named Lucian.
    He's a bastard with suit and tie, and he has the haircut of an ex emo rockstar. That's all I know. Moving on.
    His right hand man, or should I say "right hand woman", was a girl named Violet. She was short as death by a gunshot, and carried out every order that Lucian gave her. One thing I know about her is, she doesn't show any emotion whatsoever. Maybe the big guy brainwashed the poor girl.
    Her hair was as vibrant as her name, and so were her eyes. She wore some sort of uniform dress (it looked like what a pedophile would put on their victims, just saying). She always startled me, and a couple of others whenever she would enter the room. I pity Violet.
    The next is Neo. Okay, I know I've mentioned him just once, but what kind of an edgy-ass name is "Neo"? Now I know who your mom never gave much attention to back at your home.
    He had bleached hair the color of a lemon after it's been juiced, with green tips. He had one crazy eye, and one lazy eye. He wore a lab coat, and had a huge syringe with it's contents always changing at his left hand. (Damn, this kid was edgy.) Strangely enough, Neo doesn't scare us quite like Violet does.
    And then there was Milo. He was in charge of the prison and the so-called army that Lucian wants oh so badly.
    He had very thin hair, the color of lead, tied in a side pony. He also had this dumb cop getup for a uniform. And to top it all off, He shouts a lot. To everyone. Milo reminds me of my teenage years.

Category two.

    There were scouts,(low class) who looked all around the place for suspicious activity, the guards, who followed the big guys around, the lower class guards, who were fucking everywhere. (Don't take that in the wrong way, you pervert.) And the people who clean and cook for us. They are the nice ones, and the only people I didn't want to kill.

Category three.

   Prisoners, slaves, and dead people. We all have something in common, here. We were all mercenaries, or a mercenary's family member. Wife, Husband, Dad, Mom, kid, whatever. Here are some of the noteworthy ones.
   Austin Penrose - What a guy. Just your average senior highschool student. Nice clothes, terrible hair, thick accent, and single. Hey ladies, hit him up if you can. His number : [DATA EXPUNGED]
    That boy always tried his best to brighten up the day for us. He sang songs, told jokes and stories, and called his glass of water half full.
   I've always liked that kid. It's too bad that I never told him that I did before leaving.
   David Evans - The strong and silent type. If I didn't have a penis and a large amount of testosterone, I would've called him mine already.
   He had short, black hair, a shirt saying: "You'll never know until you try it", and a bandage on his forehead. He told me that he was hit with a rock. He would be bored most of the time, so he spent that time making crafts like a little kid. The guards would always take his pieces of art right after he made them. They would either give it back, leaving it coated in star stickers, or not give it back, probably destroying it. I feel bad for him too.
   Kymberly Swain - Kym was probably the happiest of the bunch. Always bouncing in place, ever so subtly. To be honest, I kinda think she's annoying. She looked like a scene girl, hair short and thick, and slathered with color. Her hoodie was too big for her, so she let me wear it most of the time.
   One thing she would always say before the end of the day is : " Let's give it our all tomorrow!" It manages to crack a smile on my mouth. Sometimes hearing her hyper little voice gives me some sort of hope. Sometimes.
   Joe - The asshole that ruins everything. One minute, me and a few others are having a somewhat good time, joking about random bullshit, until this jackass ruins it with a serious statement.
   Well, he was never wrong, but it drives me insane to hear this guy spew bullshit when all I'm having is a good time.

   And I guess I've explained the people. I've wasted a lot of time too. Back to the back story.

   Around February, Austin tells me a story about some mercenaries that he once shared a base with. I couldn't make up all of the names, but there were at least twelve of them. Nine men, and three women.
   They fought well, but stopped with unknown reason. They were then united, but parted ways shortly afterwards. (What the hell's up with that?)
Austin said that a few of them lived nearby.

   I immediately thought of a plan to escape. And so I did. It was painstakingly hard, and near impossible for me, but it's all worth it now. I'm free now, walking far from my former prison to a place named Death Valley, California.

   Why? To find one of the mercenaries that a friend mentioned, of course.

(Hello! This is the author speaking. Good day, ladies, gentlemen, boys, girls, none, both, or all. This is my first fan fiction that I've put up to read! Do you like it so far? I'm so sorry that it seems a little bit rushed and effortless, it was 2:30 am when I put this thing up to read. I'll update daily if I could, but there may be surprise hiatuses. For the time being, I'm grounded. Ooh, lookit me , imma rebel. Well, I hope you like my work so far! More on the way. -windy)