Post by Volodja Uljanov on Apr 7, 2015 18:38:01 GMT
Volodja Uljanov was really busy with...clinging on a gnarled tree in the Mount Dam area. He was in that uncomfortable situation unintentionally. Just a stupid accident with a sniper rifle, combined with bunch of EMC mutants, he discovered, while he was on a scouting trip.
Mutants were busy guarding the abandoned truck, Volodja was interested in. Truck seemed to contain something really interesting, as his EGO psyche Sophie informed him. Set of holo discs with...If you assumed that prints for latest weapons or set of rare Irathient porn, then you were dead wrong...Discs were copies Samuel Pepys's diary. Useless to almost anybody in present, except for Volodja and few others, he knew, who appreciated historical knowledge. Pepys kept his diary from 1660 until 1669 and that diary is considered to be one of the most important primary sources for the English Restoration period. It provides a combination of personal revelation and eyewitness accounts of great events, such as the Great Plague of London, the Second Dutch War, and the Great Fire of London. Volodja already knew, whom he is going to provide with extra copies. Only problem was to get them out from that truck.
He was not intending to start a hand to hand combat with that bunch of remnants of old wars, still believing that they have to terminate their enemies. Unfortunately those mutants considered everyone as their enemies these days. Close combat was not an option either - too many of darn muties to handle the situation comfortably. Always a chance that something will go wrong. And Volodja did not liked, how the mutants screamed when on attack. Their lines were lame and repetitive, like they were programmed to say same things all the time. That's why Volodja preferred more distant and delicate approach with a sniper rifle from carefully picked position like that tree over there.
Climbing was not difficult, but not very easy either. That steak at The Crater was...nutritious. Even too much because Volodja had to drag much heavier body up to the tree after rich meal. Fortunately nature had equipped him with quite strong set of hands. "No pain, no gain. And I WILL gain from this," he muttered, hitting his knee against a tree trunk. Finally he made to the top, found a comfortable seat and started to aim.
First bullet...he always hesitated when using sniper rifle, because long time ago he was practically forced to wound one of his friend with one. That was only option, because friend was interrogated by enemy soldiers and only way to keep him quiet about their hidden squad and save him from certain death was to shoot him. Ever since Volodja felt uneasy with sniper rifles, but it was only before his first shot. After that his brain took over and emotions were switched off. So his first pullet, released with slight remorse, hit patrolling Cleaver, killing him instantly. Volodja missed next one, but was able to correct himself and next two opponents were dead, before they could open fire. We will save readers from description of massacre and hop to the moment, when Volodja's last shot made him lose his balance and fell down.
His reflexes were fine and hands were strong, so now he was clinging on the tree...over half an hour already and his strong hands were getting really tired. An then he lost his grip and fell down...
...Suddenly he found himself on white sand of the beach. Sand was even too white for his taste. It was white like chalk. And sea was really back. No other colours but blackness. Really uncommon landscape. Huge figure standing in front of him wore black robes. Only light parts were his face and hands. They were white. And that figure carried a scythe. You know who he was, don't you?
"Volodja Uljanov. Do you know, how long I have been following you around? Too long, for my liking. Several times I was ready to take you with me, but you slipped away. Now I have rare chance to talk with you, before you will come with me."
"Sure, we can talk, but according to traditions I can challenge you to play a game and prolong my existence."
"You know a lot, Volodja. And I have to accept the challenge. I have my reputation. Which game we play? Don't tell that you want to play..."
"Chess! Of course. Do you know, how long I have been looking for a decent opponent? Probably as long as you were looking for me."
"Dammit! They always want to play the FUCKING chess instead of poker. Maybe I can change your mind?"
"No thanks. I won't miss that rare opportunity. I could die for a decent game."
"Oh yes. You could. And you will. One day for sure, but chasing after you is tiresome, so I would like to bring that day closer."
They sat down and started to play. Volodja picked playing style carefully this time, because he had a new combination in his mind and it could be his first and last time to try it. He looked over the chess table, picked the corner he was about to use, and sacrificed couple of pawns into there. Death swallowed the bite...
After some time had passed, Death made a pause and looked at Volodja.
"Perhaps you would like to surrender?" asked Death "Giving up is so easy, you know."
"No thank you. You trying to bluff me here, because if you make a move here, I will go there and then there..."
"Oh Volodja. Just shut up! You are giving me a headache already and I have to visit a drug store. Besides..."
Death took black sand bell, filled with white sand, out from his sleeve and took a long glance at it. "Fuck! Do you know how much of my time you have wasted here with your game play and talking?"
"Quite a lot. And looking at that table I'd say that we will spend lot of more time here, because everything looks really...interesting and promising."
"You know Volodja, I ll let you go this time. Do you know that while we were playing nobody died in the world? We will continue our game next time. Sooner or later we meet again. Your lifestyle predicts that." Suddenly...
...the table was gone, sea was gone and beach was also gone. Volodja found himself lying under the tree and his rifle was beside him.
"Such a shame," he sighed "Nobody wants to play with me." So he got up, picked up his weapon from the ground, looted the truck and after sitting into his Plum Crazy Challenger, drove away. He had some presents to make now. Volodja was not even sure if the game was real or was it just a hallucination, because of his near death experience. If he looked under the tree, then he could find an answer to that question, but people hardly bother to look back....
Mutants were busy guarding the abandoned truck, Volodja was interested in. Truck seemed to contain something really interesting, as his EGO psyche Sophie informed him. Set of holo discs with...If you assumed that prints for latest weapons or set of rare Irathient porn, then you were dead wrong...Discs were copies Samuel Pepys's diary. Useless to almost anybody in present, except for Volodja and few others, he knew, who appreciated historical knowledge. Pepys kept his diary from 1660 until 1669 and that diary is considered to be one of the most important primary sources for the English Restoration period. It provides a combination of personal revelation and eyewitness accounts of great events, such as the Great Plague of London, the Second Dutch War, and the Great Fire of London. Volodja already knew, whom he is going to provide with extra copies. Only problem was to get them out from that truck.
He was not intending to start a hand to hand combat with that bunch of remnants of old wars, still believing that they have to terminate their enemies. Unfortunately those mutants considered everyone as their enemies these days. Close combat was not an option either - too many of darn muties to handle the situation comfortably. Always a chance that something will go wrong. And Volodja did not liked, how the mutants screamed when on attack. Their lines were lame and repetitive, like they were programmed to say same things all the time. That's why Volodja preferred more distant and delicate approach with a sniper rifle from carefully picked position like that tree over there.
Climbing was not difficult, but not very easy either. That steak at The Crater was...nutritious. Even too much because Volodja had to drag much heavier body up to the tree after rich meal. Fortunately nature had equipped him with quite strong set of hands. "No pain, no gain. And I WILL gain from this," he muttered, hitting his knee against a tree trunk. Finally he made to the top, found a comfortable seat and started to aim.
First bullet...he always hesitated when using sniper rifle, because long time ago he was practically forced to wound one of his friend with one. That was only option, because friend was interrogated by enemy soldiers and only way to keep him quiet about their hidden squad and save him from certain death was to shoot him. Ever since Volodja felt uneasy with sniper rifles, but it was only before his first shot. After that his brain took over and emotions were switched off. So his first pullet, released with slight remorse, hit patrolling Cleaver, killing him instantly. Volodja missed next one, but was able to correct himself and next two opponents were dead, before they could open fire. We will save readers from description of massacre and hop to the moment, when Volodja's last shot made him lose his balance and fell down.
His reflexes were fine and hands were strong, so now he was clinging on the tree...over half an hour already and his strong hands were getting really tired. An then he lost his grip and fell down...
...Suddenly he found himself on white sand of the beach. Sand was even too white for his taste. It was white like chalk. And sea was really back. No other colours but blackness. Really uncommon landscape. Huge figure standing in front of him wore black robes. Only light parts were his face and hands. They were white. And that figure carried a scythe. You know who he was, don't you?
"Volodja Uljanov. Do you know, how long I have been following you around? Too long, for my liking. Several times I was ready to take you with me, but you slipped away. Now I have rare chance to talk with you, before you will come with me."
"Sure, we can talk, but according to traditions I can challenge you to play a game and prolong my existence."
"You know a lot, Volodja. And I have to accept the challenge. I have my reputation. Which game we play? Don't tell that you want to play..."
"Chess! Of course. Do you know, how long I have been looking for a decent opponent? Probably as long as you were looking for me."
"Dammit! They always want to play the FUCKING chess instead of poker. Maybe I can change your mind?"
"No thanks. I won't miss that rare opportunity. I could die for a decent game."
"Oh yes. You could. And you will. One day for sure, but chasing after you is tiresome, so I would like to bring that day closer."
They sat down and started to play. Volodja picked playing style carefully this time, because he had a new combination in his mind and it could be his first and last time to try it. He looked over the chess table, picked the corner he was about to use, and sacrificed couple of pawns into there. Death swallowed the bite...
After some time had passed, Death made a pause and looked at Volodja.
"Perhaps you would like to surrender?" asked Death "Giving up is so easy, you know."
"No thank you. You trying to bluff me here, because if you make a move here, I will go there and then there..."
"Oh Volodja. Just shut up! You are giving me a headache already and I have to visit a drug store. Besides..."
Death took black sand bell, filled with white sand, out from his sleeve and took a long glance at it. "Fuck! Do you know how much of my time you have wasted here with your game play and talking?"
"Quite a lot. And looking at that table I'd say that we will spend lot of more time here, because everything looks really...interesting and promising."
"You know Volodja, I ll let you go this time. Do you know that while we were playing nobody died in the world? We will continue our game next time. Sooner or later we meet again. Your lifestyle predicts that." Suddenly...
...the table was gone, sea was gone and beach was also gone. Volodja found himself lying under the tree and his rifle was beside him.
"Such a shame," he sighed "Nobody wants to play with me." So he got up, picked up his weapon from the ground, looted the truck and after sitting into his Plum Crazy Challenger, drove away. He had some presents to make now. Volodja was not even sure if the game was real or was it just a hallucination, because of his near death experience. If he looked under the tree, then he could find an answer to that question, but people hardly bother to look back....