As i add more ill clearly mark and label the variations as well as where the last part left off. The story currently uses the name Damian until a title is made. the number refers to the update.
The covenant didn’t take prisoners, they just killed, maimed and ravaged. They also didn’t send brutes into battle without Elite leadership, So Damian had no idea what angle these Covies were playing… Things were changing for everyone, The Humans and every alien species that abhors their existence… He didn’t know if brute independence was a bad thing; They were stupid as hell and their higher ups weren’t much better. Without Elites what could tame the massive, short tempered beasts? Damian knew that If there had been elites he would already be dead, but he didn’t know if that was a worse fate than what ever the Brutes had planned.
His Sullen Thoughts were interrupted by commotion in his distance, The obvious sound of foot steps in the dirt. His blindfolded face looked in the direction of the noise, as if to hear it with more clarity. The footsteps were not those of a brute, they were far too small. The footstep continued to get louder as whats ever was walking towards him got closer… Slowly, he used the tree his hands were bound to as a brace and he shimmied his way to his feet. He now heard the subtle but unmistakable sound of a methane breathing apparatus worn by a Grunt; The smaller, cowardly underlings of the covenant., a thick and scale y, four fingered hand worked its way up his face until it came to his blindfold and tugged it off.
“human.” The squat, bow legged creature said, in a strange voice that was like a cross between a life long smoker and a rodent. The Grunt moved behind Damian and untied his bonds, the heat from a plasma pistol was now clearly evident on his lower back. The creatures right arm motioned passed Damian and he made a noise that must have been something like “move” in the aliens natural tongue.
Damian began moving, slowly at first and aware that the alien was completely confident its its ability to shoot him. There was no other reason to remove his bonds. This grunt was either very brave or very stupid. His legs were completely numb from the poor circulation experienced in his cross legged sitting position. He dragged his feet along, trying to quicken his pace but not so much as to upset the gun wielding alien at his back. His head pounded as the blood rushed in and out, surging through his temples like an insect under his skin.
The sun was very bright, and hung directly over head in the sky. The temperature was high and the air had no moisture in it at all. Damian was thirsty, very thirsty, and he knew that he wouldn’t be drinking anything any time soon. Not that anything could be done to dampen his spirits any more
The grunt lead Damian roughly 100 meters until they reach the edge of what appeared to be a dead forest. It blended in so well with the sand that he hadn’t noticed it until they had walked at least half way. Dead trees sprouted from the cracked earth, some were Grey but most were caked with a thin and powdery layer of sand, as if I t has been painted on. To Damian that meant dust storms, which did little to complicate matter, but it didn’t make it any better either. If he were to somehow escape the climate did not bode well for his survival.
The grunt scooted around to Damian’s right, still gripping the pistol in its left hand. It motioned again, into the barren scape of dead woods. Damian didn’t like this situation for a number of reasons. You never saw loan grunt’s, it was just as strange as not seeing any elites during the battle. The Brutes that had overrun his checkpoint were nowhere to be found Either. He remembered clearly being violently stripped of his weapon as he was dragged from cover. The massive creature breathing in his face, its throat making guttural, wet noises as it peered right through his eyes, in an attempt to scare his very existence away… It’s comrades moved past them, digging through rubble and firing off spike refiles at what were clearly already deceased human corpses.
So where were they now he thought? Out of every species, brutes were the least likely to take prisoners or keep them alive for that matter. Damian knew there were accounts of Brutes and even Jackals feasting upon captured humans, but they had every chance to kill him before now. They were up to something, The Convention was always up to something
A hiss of pain on Damian’s right wrist brought him out of his day dream and back to reality with a start, where the grunt armed with a plasma pistol had ordered him to move. He reluctantly took a large step over the threshold of broken branches and dried vines, rubbing his wrist where the grunt had pressed the gun to his already sunburned skin.
-Coby