Forums → Art, Music, and Writing → The Manifest Project

This is kind of long, but you are already here , so I am going to assume your interested. This is set in a fictional world plagued by war in a futuristic time frame. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

The life of a profiteer was the best Brice Thobuskar ever got. It was a step up from his life as a lowly private embracing the 'suck' that only the fronts north of Foryhall could provide. Ironically it was the city he grew up in. He joined the Kalochian military to get away from the freezing nowhere town, but when the war started he came right back to shed sweat and blood for a meaningless conflict.
It seemed funny to Brice how things turned out sometimes. It was funny how he ended up back around his little ice village he was born in that he tried so desperately to escape. It was funny how after the war he couldn't get a job because he was dishonorable discharged and had to pick the same weapon he was issued in the Separatist Conflict, but this time he got a little better pay. It was funny how he got kicked out of the mercenary group he hired onto for the same reason he got discharged. It seemed funny that no matter what outfit he was in he always had a complete ass telling him what to do.
In the last few months his bad luck let up a little bit. He was plucked from the streets by his friend he had worked with during that godforsaken conflict, Ivan Vyvumic. Ivan was an intel analyst who worked directly with him giving him missions and updates. He also met up with his fellow soldier, Zatch Toehurst.
It was like the good old days, if the good old days could even be considered 'good'. They were all doing missions like the old days, but now they were working for themselves and had a little more change in their pockets; at least some of the time. Together they undertook everything from providing security to private investigation. Anything that needed a heavy handed approach and a little bit of insanity.
What they were looking into today though seemed a little less insane. They were hoping to score some loot scrounging around in an abandoned warehouse complex that was shut down due to a chemical spill that contaminated the area. It was impossible to negotiate it without proper protective gear, but nothing like a little military surplus that couldn't fix that. On one of their previous ordeals they picked up a crate of military biohazard gear that had never seen action. They sold most of it, but kept some just in case.
In the safety of their armored transport, Brice lit up a cigarette. It would his last chance for a while.
Ivan gave Brice a long annoyed look.

"Brice, you know the bay filtration system is broken. You know that right?" he said with slight sarcasm.

"Yeah, its going to be my last chance for an hour or so. Get over it."

"What?" Zatch said from the drivers seat, "Is he smoking?"

"Yeah, he is smoking."

"Dude. Put it out or go outside."

"We are going to a complex that was abandoned because of a chemical spill. A chemical spill!" he responded emphasizing the 'chemical' part, "I'd rather keep my skin right were it is. On me! And if the filtration system is broken then how in the hell are we going to get back in?"

"You're not. You will be riding in the troop lock when we leave. I got a guy who will clean you off when we get back."

"I don't know if I like the sound of that." Zatch said.

"Well then you cough up the money to get the filtration system fixed."

"No way. It's gonna be like 15,000 squares to get that fixed."

"Exactly. So quit bitching and put out the cigarette Brice!"

"No, fuck you. I'm not going to be craving while I'm out. Trust this is better for you in the long run."

"What? You just said second hand smoke is good for me."

"No. I meant I won't be getting on your nerves while were out."

"Oh. I guess. Whatever."

"Hey, were getting close. Where do I land this thing?"

Ivan climbed into the copilot seat.

"We need to get close to the administration building so I can patch in the database and see what we got here. Let me pull up the complex layout."

He sat down and pulled his computer out of the small bag next to the seat. Opening it on his lap he tapped on the keys and studied the screen. Having found what he was looking for he looked out towards the complex and pointed out a building.

"That one there."

"Alright." responded Zatch.

He slowly guided the vessel to the ground near a small building surrounded by several larger warehouses. With a slight jolt the craft stopped.

"Alright. I'll up load the floor plan to your Boxwatches. Wait hold on. Thats strange. I'm getting a signal from the facilities computer. Huh. I can access the database from here. Thats crazy there should be no power left in this place. Must have had some hardcore private generators or something. Thats still crazy."

"Is that a problem?" asked Brice,

"No, its just weird. Anything that would still be working after all this time would never be used for a storage complex. Oh well. Well your good to go. Go make us some money!"

"Alright. Zatch check you comms and everything else. I don't want to get out there and find out you are missing something."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good to go." Zatch said mockingly,

"ivan, we'll be back."

"Famous last words. Ha ha. Just kidding."

Brice just shock his head and headed for the troop look. Zatch followed and together they entered the chamber. With a hiss and a loud bang the door closed sealing them in the chamber. They dawned their gas mask and checked for a seal. After Zatch spoke into his mike piece in his mask.

"Ivan, can you hear me?"

"Yeah. Loud and clear."

"Open the outer doors."

"Roger. Opening now."

Another load bang sounded and then a hiss followed by the doors opening. Brice took a few deep breaths to check his seal again. Not like it would matter too much. If he even breathed in a little of the toxic air, he would have permanent damage to his lungs and possibly a slow painful death. His suit and all his gear seemed to be working. He took the wireless adaptor off his Boxwatch and attached it to his HUD port on the mask. He pulled up the floor plan of the place and a holographic image popped up on the top right corner of the right lens on the mask.

"Ivan. Did you find a good place to start looking?"

"Yeah. Head over to Warehouse B2. According to the database, it has some advanced computer hardware. Some of this stuff is worth a shinny square for sure."

"Alright. If its too much to carry. We'll call you over for pick up."

"Roger. Over and out."

"Zatch, On me."

There was no response from him. He just looked around and then check his weapon.

"Zatch."

Still no response.

"Zatch... Zatch! Hey Zatch!"

Finally he walked over and spun him around.

"What the hell is you problem?" Brice said.

Zatch just looked at him funny and appeared to say something, but it was not coming up on the communication system. Brice looked down at Zatch's radio unit and realized it was on the wrong channel. He clicked the knob into the right position and then slapped him on the head.

"I said check your comms before we even left. Dumb ass!"

"I did! It was set to the right channel."

"Whatever. Lock and load and follow me."

Brice followed the map on his HUD to the warehouse Ivan picked out. In complete silence they walked briskly towards the building's direction. They navigated through a maze of large warehouse, all about sixty feet tall, four hundred feet long, and seventy feet wide. Along the way, they passed loading equipment, empty shipping containers, and the occasionally decomposed body. Brice was use to dead bodies. He once dove in a trench with three discombobulated bodies to avoid being discombobulated himself. Zatch however was not so stoic. He had to look away because the bodies were too gruesome.

"Still not use to seeing dead things yet, huh?" Brice asked.

"No. Its easy to just shoot them, but the aftermath is never pleasant."

"You should work on that."

"Yeah, I'll make sure to stare at some dead people when I get back. Thanks for the advice."

"Alright. The building is around this corner. Lets go."

They jogged around the corner and sure enough there was a warehouse with a large 'B2' painted on the front near the front loading area. As they approached the front entrance Zatch saw a heavy lock on the front door. He slung his weapon and took his bolt cutters from off his ruck. He approached the door and Brice casually scanned the area. Putting the business end of the bolt cutter on the lock, he gave it a swift clinch and tore right through the lock. Brice got the door as Zatch returned his cutter to his sack.
The inside of the warehouse was mainly empty except for a large crate in the middle of the big open space.

"Man. These guys needed some lessons in space management. You could fit a hundred of those crates in here."

"According to the database, the whole thing was rented by a large company and they were in the middle of offloading their stuff when the chemical spill happened. They probably took there shit and got the hell out of there." said Ivan.

"Too bad. Lets see what is in there."

They approached the container and Zatch once again pulled out his bolt cutters. With a quick jerk, he snapped the lock. Brice pulled the door open and lit up the space with the flashlight on his weapon. Sure enough it had several heavy duty processor and other hardware that seemed in good condition.
Brice and Zatch took off the packs and started cramming in as much of the gear as they could. Brice even use bungie cords to strap more on the outside of his sack. After flinging their overloaded rucks on their backs they started to jog back to their transport.

"Hey, Ivan. We can carry this stuff, but go ahead and get the Garpike and move it in closer." said Brice over the radio.

"Roger that. I also found two more. One with more of this kind of stuff in the warehouse and the other with a weapons stock pill. You should check those two after you clear this one out."

"Will do."

"Man, a weapons stock pile. Thats a hell of a score."

"Yeah. This will be probably our biggest haul ever."

Reaching the door of the warehouse, the Garpike came into view. It came to a stop in front of the warehouse, kicking up dust and debris. The troop lock door opened and Brice and Zatch put their loot inside.

"Alright. You go check the other warehouse with the other hardware in it." Brice ordered, "and I'll go check the one with the weapons."

"Super dick move."

"Get over it."

Parting ways they headed to their objective and to their future bounties.


Zatch open the front door to the massive warehouse and looked inside. The huge space was packed to the brim with shipping containers.

"Man. Lots of stuff."

Zatch didn't even know where to start. He made his way to several and tried to open them. All of which were locked. He had to smile at that. Taking his ruck off he took out several small blasting caps and some small blocks C4. He stuck the blasting caps into the C4. After that he took the wires that trailed off the blasting caps and strung them around a prongs on a small box with several switches and small lights.
The lights on the box began to blink on and off. He stuck the small blocks of C4 against several locks on the shipping containers. As he turned the safety lock off the lights on the box stopped blinking and stayed solid.

"Hey, Brice." Zatch said over the radio.

There was a pause.

"Hey, what?"

"I'm blasting of some lock. Don't be startled."

"What? Oh, Okay. Go ahead."

With that he took cover behind another container and turned the key. Several explosions sounded and threw dust everywhere. After the dust settled Zatch moved in to see his handy work.

"I think that might have been to much."

He looked at the locks and say them completely removed. He swung one door opened and looked inside. It was full of hardware that was now full of holes from shrapnel.

"Yep. Too much."

He left the large box and continued to another. He opened the crate to be suddenly surprised. It was empty. He turned his light on his weapon to get a better look. Something in the corner of the box caught his eye. It appeared to a control for a shipping platform or loading dock.
Moving into the box he slowly approached the small set of controls. He paused and looked at the floor. There appeared to be no indication that the floor moved or folded or did anything. It appeared to be completely solid. With that in his mind he grabbed the control device and observed it. It use to have writing on it, but it was too obscure to decipher.
Finally giving up trying to read it, he pushed a random button. There a loud sound of metal straining through rust and grit. Suddenly the bottom of the crate gave way and Zatch fell into a pit of darkness.

Brice got to the door of the warehouse. He saw a lock on the door. Taking his .50 cal revolver out of its holster on his thigh, he took aim. The weapon thundered and the lock disintegrated. Brice kicked the door and it popped right off its rusted hinges.
He entered the storage area and had his breath taken away. A sinister smile came across his face. Before him were rows and rows of fully automatic assault rifles, heavy squad automatic weapons, rocket propelled grenade-launchers. All of which were fifteen years outdated, but were looked like they were in perfect condition. Further down he saw a row of recoilless rifles.

"Come in Zatch. Man this is hardly fair. Zatch, come in." said Brice.

There was no response.

"Damn, it. Ivan, can you check on Zatch's location."

"Yeah give me a second. Ugh, okay. Hold on. Um... okay. Ugh... Thats strange. He isn't coming up."

"What?"

"Yeah. He isn't coming."

"What the hell are you talking about. You saying that he just flew away! You can track him on every point on the globe."

"Yeah. This is not good. Did you try talking to him."

"Yeah. I did. Why the hell do you think I asked you to find him?"

"Yeah. This is not good."

"What was his last location. Can you pull that up?"

"Working on it. I'll put it on your HUD. Standby. There."

"Alright. I got it. Moving."

He sprinted out of the building and ran out the door. He rushed towards the entrance of the last known location of his comrade. He posted up beside the door and glanced inside. He didn't know what to expect, so he wasn't taking any chances. Shouldering his weapon, he charged inside. Checking every angle and every turn, he continued to the blip on his HUD.
Eventually Brice found his way to a shipping container closest to Zatch's last known location. The door was slightly ajar. He approached the door very slowly. He stopped a few feet away and waited. He didn't hear anything, so he moved closer. He then kicked in the door and burst into the container and nearly plummeted into the open floor. He held on for dear life on the side of the doorway. He cursed under his breath.
Pulling himself out of the bottomless box, he inhaled and exhaled a very shaken sigh.

"Ivan." he uttered with great effort.

"What? What is wrong? Is Zatch dead? Damn it! He is dead, isn't he?"

"No. I haven't found him yet. Does this place have an underground facility or something?"

"Um. No. Its a warehouse complex. The only underground thing would be more towards the administration offices. Why?"

"We'll, there is this underground shaft."

As he said that, he grabbed a flare out of a pocket on his thigh and lit it. Dropping it into the dark unknown, he waited for it to hit the ground. After a brief moment he saw it hit the ground several feet down.

"And I think he fell into it."

After falling fifteen feet onto a hard metal floor, all Zatch could do was moan. In fact the only thing that broke his fall was an old desk and maybe his kevlar vest reinforced with anti-matter compressed steel. He managed to roll out of the carnage of the mangled desk and stumble a few feet before collapsing.
He began to check for broken bones. Obviously, neither his legs nor his arms were broken. He seemed to be alright, except from the major pain coming from his chest. He took of his his gear surrounding his torso and threw it to the ground. He gentle felt around his chest and slowly to his back. Suddenly a spike of pain shot through him. One of the ribs was bent in an awkward direction and was extremely sensitive. He finally decided that he had a broken rib, but other than that nothing major.
Looking around he began to take in the situation. The place was dark, damp, and dirty. There were tons of objects and materials all around him. There were more desks (like the one he landed on on), filing cabinets, printing machines, computers, and even a huge screen t.v. All of it was covered in dust and hadn't been moved in years.
After taking in the area he began to search for his weapon. He found several feet away under a desk. He picked it up and observed it for any damage. Sure enough the magazine well was bent way out of shape and even popped off the magazine that was in it. He tried fitting another in, but to no avail. He tried pulling the charging handle. The round in the chamber shot out and landed on the floor.

"Well, I'm only going to get one shot out of it." He said as he dropped it to the floor.

He then reached for his sidearm holstered on his thigh. He pulled it out and examined it. It had no damage and seemed to be in working order. He pulled the slide back just in case. After a satisfying 'click' he holstered it again. Picking up his broken assault rifle, he detached the flashlight mounted to the side and then affixed it to the bottom of the pistol. He turned it on and scanned the room.

"Hey, Brice. Can you hear me?" he said into his intercom.

No sound came out; not even static. He felt at his lower back for the radio system. It was ruined.

"Damn it. Of course. Of course!" he yelled.

After a deep sigh, he looked around the room one more time. There were two doors, none of which had an exit sign over it. He picked the closest door and started to head straight for it. Slowly moving through the door, he moved though the dusky corridor. It was dead quiet except for the occasional crunch of broken glass and other fragile material on the ground.
Zatch began to think that he got a little more than he bargained for. He tried to stay calm and find a way back to ground level. He looked at the walls and floor for any sign of any kind of direction. With no idea where he was heading he proceeded down the long corridor. He came across rooms filled with random stuff. Some were empty. Nothing in these room gave him a clue as to where he was going.
Finally, he came to a junction of two corridors. He stopped in the middle and looked around. He saw what looked like directions on the walls. To his delight on showed a staircase. With great relief he headed down that hallway.
Then with no warning he stopped. Something caught his ear. He turned his light off and froze in place. Slow steady breaths exuded from his mouth. He didn't know what he was hearing. It sounded like an RC car. He could hear the whine of a tiny electrical motor working away. The sounds got louder and louder. He could tell it was coming right for him. Then as seemed it was about to come right at him, the sounds stopped.
He held his breath for what seemed like forever. Massing ever ounce of courage, Zatch lifted his pistol and pointed it at where he heard the noise last. Then as quick as he could he switched the light back on. What he saw greatly confused him. What appeared before him was something that looked like a bomb disposal robot. It had small arms in front of it and a camera mounted on the top of it, but it seemed to have been modified with several other devices.
Not knowing how to react, he backed away slowly. Then, as if scared by his movements, it turned around and sped off. Confused, he stood there waiting for something else to happen. Sure enough, another set of noises arose. This time it sounded way bigger. He heard loud thuds as if a giant was marching towards him.

"That doesn't sound good." Zatch uttered nervously.

As it approached he heard a sharp click.

"Okay, that is definitely not good." he said as he turned to run.

Then a rain of lead thundered in his direction. Rounds poured just slightly over his head. With all his might he ran, firing his pistol in the direction of the malignant mass of mayhem that stormed at him. He heard his rounds hit metal. Not looking back he ran down another hallway. The way he went was not the way he came, but it was to late to correct his error. This direction led to a maze of hallways and empty rooms. He made random turns doing everything he could to lose whatever had it out for him.
As he rounded a corner he passed a fire extinguisher. He decided to use it to help him escape. He posted up a little further down the corridor and hid behind a filling cabinet that had been moved into the hallway. He waited for it to round the corner. As it appeared around the corner he got a good look at it. It was a mechanical utility walker that had been modified into a death dealing abomination, but there was no pilot. Just a rig with a camera on it and other monitoring equipment.
Eventually the machine got close enough to the extinguisher and he fired a round straight at it. The tank exploded knocking bit off the contraption's hull and knocking it over. After that he made a mad dash further down the endless maze of rooms and hallways. He eventually rushed into one room and stopped. He was in a kitchen.

"Man. That thing is fast." he said.

He continued to duck and weave into rooms and corridors. Doing anything to shack him off. Finally he slammed through a door and entered what appeared to be a kitchen. He came to realize something. Then he knew what he had to do.