Chapter 1: Dark Times

Tom's face was smashed against the glass as the bus came to a halt. The bus driver stood up, and strode over to the seat where the gang bangers were smudging Tom's unusually large face to the window. They were cracking up and the the leader, who was wearing a ragged t-shirt with faded words that had spelled something more mature before, but now spelled out, "briasts" and extremely short shorts, was grinning widely, but it soon faded as he felt the hand on his shoulder, the black woman bus driver with a white shirt that was far too large for her.

"Stop harassing that young boy, you thugs," she boldly stated, felling a small sense of bravery, but inside, she was really pleading out to not be pounded by the gang bangers. The thugs stopped pushing on the back of Tom's head and glared at the brave lady who had given up time to save him. They all stood up, and slowly walked off the bus, not taking their eyes off of the woman. She turned to Tom, who was relieved to be alive, or at least for his face to be attached to his body. "Stay out of trouble, boy. What if those thugs had no mercy? They would've kicked my ass," she sat back down at her chair, and the bus geared into motion.

Tom was glad that the bus driver had wasted her time to stop the thugs, even though he didn't say thank you or looked like he could handle himself. Everything everyone thought about him through his looks were completely off. He wasn't strong, nor bold, brave or wise. He was just a shy, wimpy child who only wished his parents didn't hate him. Everyone hated him. Whether they knew him or not, they would always shows signs of hatred, such as a grimace or frown. It hurt him so much that no one ever cared to actually get to know him, instead of jumping to conclusions. That was mostly why he had no friends. The other less important reason was because he looked tough. No one would ever want to mess with him.

After at least an hour of thinking and looking outside the window, avoiding the smudge of his face and rather focusing on the outside. The scenery wasn't great either, probably even worse than the smudge blocking his view. Nothing in his life was great, every event was just another chapter in his sorrowful life. It either included insane robbers trying to steal his wallet (even though his parents never let him own a wallet), his parents grunting whenever he talked to them, or spending the day in an Asylum for beings that had lost their sanity only to end as a piece of meat for the crazies.

The bus suddenly stopped, pushing him over to the seat in front of him, where a raider glance at him right before Tom landed on his lap. The man, who had leather raider armor with spikes at the edges, shoved him out of the seat and into the walkway, where he then grabbed him by his shirt and threw him towards the wind shield. The glass cracked and soon broke into a million pieces. Tom landed outside and rolled on the rough cobblestone. He got up quickly, pulling his middle finger to the raider glaring at him from the inside. The man ran down the staircase, and reached the bottom. He moved in front of the bus, and the bus driver accelerated. Tom looked behind him to see the bandit duck under the bus and chased after him.

Tom turned the corner of a dark alleyway, and almost lost his path. But the sunlight shone on the ground, showing him where to watch out for an upcoming concrete wall or to turn a sharp edge. He dodged every obstacle that the alleyway threw at him, even the oven bomb full of snakes (story for another day). He escaped from the grasp of the bandit, and pulled open the glass entrance to a liquor store. He had visited that store ever since he was born, matter of fact, that's where he was born, during the Great War. His mother had been pregnant and went out to get groceries (yes, at a liquor store) when her water broke and Tom's father rushed to see his baby being born, which he was thrilled at first, but was then frightened to discover the baby was a boy. He wanted a girl, so he hated Tom forever.

Tom searched the aisles for a weapon, and found a tube made of iron. He stole it and ran over to the end of the aisle and put it in his pocket. He turned the corner and ran out the store. There stood the bandit, searching the crowded street for him. Tom dashed right through the crowd, pushing everyone out of his way. He turned back to see if the bandit was chasing him, but he was no where n sight. Tom grinned, but it quickly faded as he tripped on a nail and fell into an open manhole. He landed on the water, all the way down to the deepest point. He swam back up to see if he was safe.

"Ah, damn. I'm good here, though," he said as he saw a tall, muscular figure near him. He dived down deep until the figure passed. He caught a glimpse of it's face, it was a woman with a dirt-filled face and a scarred chin. She was white, even though the sunlight shone on her, making a shadow over her face and the dirt. The woman kept walking quickly, and passed. Tom waited, forced to hold his breath under the water. Until he was sure that the woman was gone, he swam up to the top, and saw the figure walking in the shadows. She could still be seen, until she reached a corner and turned it slowly.

"Maybe not completely safe, but it'll do for now," Tom said under his breath, assuring himself that everything would be all right, even though things were about to get worse.

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Meanwhile...

"Is he dead yet? Did you find him?" Guy shouted into the phone, worried about his target, to see if his goal was completed yet. Berry walked out of the crowded street and into the liquor store Tom was previously in. The street was full of people shouting and yelling relative's names, friends that were lost in the commotion and noise, and even threats that they were all going to die. Berry sighed into the phone, knowing his boss was awaiting an answer. He cleared his throat and spoke up.

"There's no trace of him, sir. I'll find him though, I'm in a liquor store he was in, I'm going to ask anyone here if they saw in which direction he went," Berry assure his boss, Guy, that everything would be all right. Guy sighed too, he wanted Tom dead.

"Find him, kill him, and bring the corpse to me. If you can not get that done within the next twenty four hours, I will hire a new assassin...and be off with you," Guy demanded and hung up, leaving Berry worried. If he did not get the job done, he would be incinerated, the terrible fate the previous assassins suffered in failing at doing their job.

"I've got to find him,"

Report of Guy Anderson's assassins

Guy Anderson (note: he never mentions his failure.)

Harry Mads (note: incinerated)

Jerry Kiloman (note: incinerated)

Mary Anderson (note: his wife)

Vadaeer Feradi (note: committed suicide)

AAAAAH AAAAH (note: no one knew his real name, only that it started with an A. Also, he was incinerated)

Katara Merandi (note: escaped her incineration)

Yerand Hurt (note: his real last name is Hurtee, but he said he would Hurt anyone who said it. Also, he was incinerated)

Catherine Anderson (note: his daughter)

Martin Luart (note: had the ability to transform an object to become another. Also, he escaped his incineration. Guy assumes he was a spy working with his nemesis)

Berry Anderson (note: current assassin. In no way related to Guy)

Chapter 2: The Wrong Terminal

Guy hung up the phone furiously, letting go of the phone to hit the wall. He sighed and sat down on his relaxing chair. He laughed, pinching his nose. He sighed again, he did that a lot. He got up and sat at his desk, passing by the phone and putting it back into its socket. He pressed the receiver button and spoke into it calmly.

"Madaline, are there and persons waiting for me downstairs?" he spoke into it. A scream came from the speaker, and a female voice came through it, obviously caught off guard.

"You scared me there, sir," she giggled and continued to speak, "Let me check on you question, I'll be right with you, sir," the woman stopped pressing the button and there was a long pause. The woman's voice came back through the speaker, and this time Guy was surprised, "Yes, sir. A matter of fact, you have millions down here waiting for you. 500,000 say they want to apply for a job, and the rest want to seek revenge on you," the woman's voice was smooth, but her speech was upsetting to Guy. He sighed and pressed the button, talking into the receiver.

"Am I really such a bad guy in the eyes of people? I've only sent out a few assassins and bounty hunters! I've done nothing major," Guy spoke into the receiver, and the woman sparked up, he had always asked that question, and she always enjoyed answering it with the same response.

"No sir, nothing major, you're right," she said in a sarcastic tone through the receiver, but Guy always took it seriously and smiled. He did not respond, he knew she always knew he was grinning behind the receiver. Guy got up, satisfied, and walked over to his second desk, equipped with a terminal. He sat down and logged on to his terminal. It was successful and he continued on to his profile. The computer denied his password. Guy was puzzled and put in the password again, making sure he spelled it right. The terminal once again denied his log in. He clicked the "Help" option in the corner of his screen, and read the following:

There are several reasons for needing help. State the problem in the space below.

He looked below the text and saw that there was a space to write there and stated the problem that he was having. The terminal brought up a loading window and finally the computer flashed up to a new window stating the solution. A huge wall of text stood there, but he only read the last sentence; the last sentence said almost everything, if not everything. The last sentence, in this case however, did not say anything. He growled, he would have to read the whole page. Finally, buried in the text, was the solution to his problem:

...your terminal may be temporarily malfunctioning from a virus. To completely be sure if your computer is suffering a virus, click here and do a search. If the results are positive, then you'll have to wipe out the virus. Install this program to wipe it out. If you already have it installed or if it is done, run it and it will wipe out the virus in approximatively ten to thirty minutes...

He followed the instructions, installed the program, ran it and waited as it loaded. The waiting was done and a new small window opened telling him that there were no viruses detected. He was still confused. He slumped in his chair, sighing. He looked around the area of the computer and found something strange that had not been there before. The green screen he originally had before was now a blueish-greenish grid color. The white casing was now black, and the monitor was smaller than his real terminal.

"This- this isn't my terminal! It's been stolen!" he threw it to the floor and the screen broke into a million pieces. A man in the corner of the room smiled, then ran out of there.

Seeing as no one else has commented: I like it :thumbsup:

Thanks for that. I want to say something, the report has everything to do with the second chapter.

Nice, I'll keep reading when I'm not working on mine.

Nicely done, I shall be following this.

Chapter 3: An Early Player

As Tom crawled through the empty sewers that he had unfortunately fallen into, he tried to hold back the horrid smell of the swamp. The swamp was the only thing bothering him, though, flies also buzzed around him and bit him when he was caught off guard. When Tom tried to squash them, he would just lose his balance and fall into the nasty waters with his mouth open and got a literally a ton of swampy, disgusting water into his stomach. Aside from the flies, there were also other problems. There was no light in the empty tunnel, except for a single match that Tom had lighten shortly after his unfortunate and unexpected arrival there. His sneakers were torn at the bottom, so he had to reach down and remove them from his feet.

There were more problems, probably too many to mention. The bottom line was: Tom was tortured. Twelve feet under the surface, not many resources were to be found and no one was around to help him find an exit or quench his thirst. He had to do everything by himself, and sometimes things can't be done with solely one person. Well, after the long hours where he would complain on and on how his life is miserable and that he wished he was never born, he got around to rest for a while near the walkway. He tried to set up a fir with the match, but...

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, now the sewers being completely exhaled with darkness. He couldn't even see the trace of his hand, and then he started thinking he didn't have arms. But he was just paranoid, he had two perfect hands that could work just fine. As he reassured himself everything was all right and his hands were actually there, a blue, dim light shone behind the corner. It got brighter and brighter as it neared, and Tom searched for an escape. He had many choices; charging at the person, hiding all the way on the back wall of the walkway and hoping he was not found, or diving down into the depths of the swamp. He chose the third one. He didn't even know why.

He waited for the person to already turn the corner- which seemed awfully hard to them, maybe they had a broken leg or something like that- and when they did, they took even slower to get to him. Tom guessed they were sightseeing, but there wasn't much to see in an abandoned sewer, after all. The person looked all around, as if searching for treasure, which again was unlikely to ever happen. As Tom thought about it, he realized that the person was in fact a man and had a scarred knee...and that he couldn't hold his breath for much longer. He tried to hold in the sensation to go back up for air, but then he would get caught. Screw this... he thought.

Tom raised into the air as if he was a magnificent dolphin performing a trick at the local Carnival including aqua animals, except no carnivals survived the nuclear war, that was just a simile. He caught a large breath of oxygen that almost made his mouth explode and then splashed right back into the water. He floated to the top of the swamp very slowly, at the surface encountering the man he had been hiding from, even though now that he saw his face, he didn't look like such a bad guy after all. Tom was...partially right.

"Who are you? Are you a bounty hunter?" Tom asked, making a speculation of what the man was, or what his career was. Guess his speculation wasn't too far off the mark.

"Close, kid. Not a bounty hunter," he got up from the cobblestone that had left a bad marking on his back and went over to a sack. The sack was torn and had patches from the bullet holes that had been made, sword hits, etc. The sack was also a dark color, near greyish but also very close to brown, you really couldn't tell while it was lying in the darkness, which it was. He seemed to carry golf clubs in the brown, torn rug, but it was clear to Tom why the sack had so many patches. The bold, man held out a silver sword without any fear, pointing it at Tom. He swiveled back to avoid getting hit. The man chuckled and put the sword back into its holder. "I'm a former assassin for Guy Anderson," he looked down at the ground and sighed, Tom knew it was personal.

"Well, that's...cool. What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" Tom asked curiously. The man chuckled once again, he really didn't know the answer to that one. He scooted over to where Tom was, which was weird, since they had met each other less than ten seconds ago. He sighed and got ready to respond to Tom's question when distant shouts could be heard. They both turned their heads to the direction of the echoes and without having to see who it was, they dashed off through the now slightly less empty sewers with a torch. The fire on the stick was blew by the air as they ran through the corridors of the tunnel. Tom turned as he realized the light was now very dim, about to be blown away completely.

"Slow down!" he shouted to the man, who mysteriously refused to give his name when he first met him. They slowed to a halt as they heard the yells and mutters of the people following them. They furiously charged them, and the man pulled out one of his swords. Tom reached to grab it, but the man pulled it back. They lost time fighting over the weapon when their enemies threw them down to the bottom of the swampy water. Tom had a quick glance of the beasts: feral ghouls. As the four of them swam away from Tom and started assaulting the other man, Tom reached down for the sword. A feral ghoul noticed his behavior and signaled his mates to attack him. Tom got ready to jump up, while the man leaped out of the water onto the walkway. Tom rose to the top of the well lit tunnel and threw the weapon to his "friend." "Catch!" he yelled over to him. The man got ready to catch it, but...it slid into the hand of a ghoul. As it happily yelled and screamed, he gestured all his friends to look at the gorgeous sword. They praised it, then realized the humans were still there. They started shouting again, but this time in the other direction. Their echoes could be heard all around, until it faded.

"Well, nice job. That was greatly appreciated," the man sarcastically remarked when all was silent, no shouts or yells of the ghouls in the distance, nothing. He started slowly walking away, disappointed. Tom sat there, no light, the darkness swallowing him whole.

Hello everybody! I have not given up on this fan-fic, I will keep posting. I've been busy and will probably get a chapter up very soon.

Why'd you dis your tarkov rp? It was doing fine...

I didn't diss it. You guys just forgot to post in it.