Strife: A Red vs Blue Fan Fiction

Simulation

April, 17, 2546

Mother Of Invention, UNSC controlled space

11:00

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I cast a glance all around me, my eyes searching the dim hallway, looking for any sign of movement. I cocked my pistol back, pressing my back against the wall, a just a few inches from the corner leading out into the next hallway. I counted down in my head, my ears remaining perked for any sound. The moment the countdown reached one, I stepped around the corner, my pistol extended in front of me. Clear.

I took one hand off the grip, proceedinging further on down the hallway, concealing my footsteps as best as I could -which was surprisingly easy in the armour. My eyes darted to the corners of the hall, watching for set-up security cameras. Clear, again. My mind ran through a check list of what to watch and listen for, over and over again, almost like a broken record. It helped, believe it or not.

Cameras, voices, footsteps, my own breathing. I had to keep it down to pass through, otherwise I don't think I'd get to try again tomorrow. I stopped at the next corner, pressing my back against the wall, listening. The audio clues gave it all away. Camera, far end, end of hall. I can hit it. I don't much other choice.

I stepped out from behind the corner, my pistol gripped with both hands, aimed at the camera in the corner. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger, stepping back behind the corner. I waited for a moment, but, when I heard the static and malfunctioning sounds, I peered back into the hall, my eyes landing on the small, pink, mass at the end of the hall. I smirked, nodding to myself. I placed my palm on the corner, my fingers circling to the other side.

I pushed myself off from it, turning on my heel continuing down the hall, my shoulder almost brushing against the wall. Closing my eyes, I could feel my heart drumming against my rib cage, echoing in my ears with each and every step. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn everyone in this place could hear it.

I repeated the same process, over and over again, listening for anything and everything, taking out cameras when necessary, and avoiding combat where I could. I paused as close to the corner as I could. If my mental tracker was actually working, this should be the last one that I have to worry about, meaning it will most likely be the most troublesome.

Down, most likely at the end of the hall or three quarters there, I could hear voices. Hushed voices, but voices all the same. A few words that passed between the men -how ever many there were- registered in my ears. "Disabled…" "… coming…" "…on the look out…" and so on. It was clear who they were referring to. Me.

I holstered the pistol, my other hand reaching over my shoulder, wrapping around the paint BR on my back. I brought it over my shoulder, glancing down at it, my eyes running over the smooth black frame. I pulled the bolt back, drumming my fingers on the grip. I counted down in my head.

One thousand one,  one thousand two, one thousand three…

With a sigh, I rounded the corner, my sights landing on a much larger group of marines than I would have liked for such a compact hallway. I fired once, twice, on instinct, the pink substance colliding with a marine and skimming another in mere seconds, almost quicker than my eyes could see.

I dove back behind the corner as they returned fire instantaneously, the blurs of pink upon pink whizzing past, slamming against the neighboring wall with an audible thud. I Ieaned out from behind the corner, firing one, two, three times before pulling myself back behind, away from the marines that opened fire, the muzzles of their guns pointed towards my location.

I could hear three, distinct, voices down the hall, with maybe one or two tacked on. I couldn't tell, never got a good look at the group. I repeated the in-and-out-from-behind-cover tactic over and over until no marines were left without pain coating them.

I manuevered around the bodies,squeezing between the small gaps in between them. I stepped over the last one, looking down at his still form as I passed. I shrugged, quickening my pace as I proceeded down the hall, stopping just short of yet another corner.

Down the hall -which I hoped was the last one, god knows how long I've been in here already- I could something, but it wasn't clear. It was distinctly voices, of course, but only one. And it sounded familiar. Germany…?

"Australia, I swear to god, you poke me again and Imma rip that finger off, and call it 'finger food'," There was a brief pause as he grew quiet. It's Germany and Aussie, alright. "YOU PASTY FACE SON OF A--" His sentence was cut off by a loud thud, and several shots from a paint pistol. Muffled cries of pain and… yelling followed, but the words were unintelligable.

Definitely Germany and Aussie, right there.

I brough the BR up, the muzzled pointing towards the corner where I knew Aussie would come around soon. I moved quietly, keeping my steps light. The moment I saw his torso, I fired once, twice, momentarily looking passed him for Germany, if he didn't do what I thought he did.

I  moved towards Aussie, his chest and neck covered with thick, pink, paint. The problem was that he was blocking my progression through the next, hopefully final, hallway. "Sorry," I muttered, placing one hand on his chest, and shoving him away without giving a second thought to it.

My eyes landed on a single, lump of pink pressed against the wall, only one clear body part… un-pinkified. A familiar ODST helmet. His torso, arms, and legs were all covered with the lockdown paint, barely any part of his armour -other than his head- left untouched. "Simulation over. Please proceed out of the area,"

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A/n: Aha, hope you liked that chapter. And, I'm sorry for the delay. Took a 'quick break' from writing for the last… two weeks. First break I've took in the two years I've been writing. I know, I know, the Seeker's insane. I thought we've already covered that, my friends.

Also, sorry if there were many mistakes. Writing while in the passenger seat of a small car going down a OLD county road isn't exactly the best writing... area, as I should say. Hitting bumps while typing usually ends in something like; "Definitely GEryany and ADsie,"

I'll post about this later, but I have a question for you. I want your opinion on something. More specifically my name.

As you can clearly see, my name on here is 'SeekersUnited'. On everything else, I'm known as TheSeekers. Which one looks/sounds better? Or should I just let sleeping dogs lie, and leave my name the same?

-Seekers