Story Other Group 2

Fighting The Crooks: Part 2

After learning the president has been lying to her for as long as she's known him, Team Leader Rachel Chambers sets out to learn the truth behind this secret facility her and her team have walked into, in this second part to Fighting The Crooks


As if a veil of lies was lifted from her, team leader Rachel Chambers is frozen. Stuck. Terrified at what her eyes can’t unsee.

Hidden from within the shadows with three of her squad mates they watch as The United States of America’s First Lady directs a heavily armed troop to prep children for slave labor.

This team, self-titled ‘The Patriots’, have been faced with the cold hard truth that their patriotism has been in the name of a corrupt government all along. Their willingness to serves blinded them from what’s been going on under their noses all along.

“What do we do, Cap?” Zack the medic asks for the second time.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I need to think,” Chambers replies. “God! This is so fucked up!” She clenches her fists and jaw fighting back the urge to gun down every guard in the facility. But knowing she’d get killed in exchange is enough to hold her back. There is more than meets the eye going on in this facility and she needs to get to the bottom of it. She needs to get revenge on the corrupt president she’s served for seven years being lied to every step of the way.

Chambers’ thoughts are fogged while resisting the tunnel vision to act immediately. “Alexander,” She says.
”Yes, sir?” The stealth recon officer asks.
”Take charge. I can’t even focus,” Chambers tells him.
”Immediately, sir.” Alexander responds. For her entire fifteen year career leading the team she’s had Alexander Paviolla by her side as her right hand. Her better and calmer judgement. Her best friend. Greatest rival. Second in command. No soldier does Chambers trust more.
”Okay, team,” Alexander begins.” We have to get…

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Fighting the Crooks: Part 1

Fighting the Crooks is a Political Narrative of patriots doing what they must for their country to honor the president.


“This is the moment of truth, guys. This is where we make our stand against this liberal tyranny we continue to see,” The team leader says. “They’re no different than Hitler’s Germany. They feel it’s right to take hostile action against us for having opposing views while asking us to tolerate each action they took similar during the ruling of their leader. We will no longer stand for this!”

She raises her fist to the outcry of the other four team members,“In honor of the President!”

For several weeks they’ve planned out invading this facility to free a hostage held by the President’s opposition. The liberals, angry they’ve not yet gotten their way have begun to take drastic measures in their attempt to manipulate political choices.

This team lead by Senior Officer Chambers dubbed themselves ‘The Patriots’ upon devising a plan to rescue the hostage, the president’s wife. Originally they brought the plans to the president directly, but worried for their lives he…

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Soldiers Play Hangman

Soldiers Play Hangman

...through this area in at least a day’s time. I remain on edge today more so than any other day. My gut tells me something is wrong.

My squad has been fortunate enough to avoid crossing paths with enemy forces. Now we’re deep in hostile territory dodging trip wire explosives as we close in on our target and I’ve not yet fired a single round.

As my squad races up the hill through the forest John and Dave slow down having just shy of the hilltop in such an unsettling fashion the hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms stand and an electric shock races down my spine rattling my whole body.

I’m not certain why they’ve halted the way they have and they’re not...

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Dead Black Boy

Dead Black Boy

It’s difficult to know what to do in these kinds of situations.

Stainless is the steel tip of the berretta pistol I’m holding to the back of his head. Stained conscience stops me from pulling the trigger, but I find myself stuck here.

“Gang activity” is what they’ll label his murder. Another dead black boy lost within the numbers. A meaningless statistic. They won’t even remember his name and all I have to do pull the trigger. But I can’t seem to do it. Can’t seem to kill this nigger...

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Final Thoughts

...repercussion of my poor choice. A death which could have been avoided easily had I just decided to lead my team out of the battlefield. But I didn’t because of a singular dramatic moment I had with a stranger where I promised him that before my men and I evacuate the battlefield I would come back and rescue him and his family, all whilst knowing how unrealistic it was to assume we’d bring them back just because.

It happened in the middle of a field. He told me, “All I want is to leave and give my family an opportunity.”

And without much thought to the matter, because it sounded...

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...deep distorted voice says “It’ll leave if I do this!” While moving your jaw open and shut. Alone on your side it’s as though you first thought it and then said it. As if the demon only exists across the mirror. And everything on this end is voluntary. Thought out. Intentional. Choice.

“It’s in my head!” you say. “He only wants me to think it’s his doing!”

The demon lip syncs each word, hand moving your puppet jaw.

You think to pierce skin with the blade of the razor and the demon reaches back down to your arm and begins to press it into the skin. Vibrant burgundy blood gathers around the cut. Then wraps around the wrist and drips to...

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Staying Alive III


...looks familiar when he gets out of the dumpster. He’d already been roaming unfamiliar streets when he found the building and jumped out the window avoiding ghouls.

“So, I’m lost…” he says, back on the street unable to tell which direction he came from. “Nothing new there.”

Luckily the coast was mostly clear with exception for two or three stragglers. Ghouls from the night before. Alex quickly disposed of them and took the opportunity to track and find painkillers ahead of time. An expired bottle of Tylenol. “Fun times await you, little ones.” He tells the bottle of Oxycontin as he shoves it in his backpack and continues his journey...

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A Coward's Apocalypse

...The best bet was to leave the campus if people started to eat other people. Why stick around? But it was worse out here. More death. This thing that’s happening is happening everywhere.

In front of the Chunky Burger there’s too many of them. They’re ruthless. And Zack can’t talk himself into looking. He doesn’t want to see it keep happening. They’re tear innocent people apart and he can’t even try to help. Those things have taken down giant powerful men. Zack’s just a kid starting college. Undeveloped shoulders predict a child with this sickness easily takes him down. He’s paralyzed.

Behind him the screams get worse.

More people are dying.

More people are killing...

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Going Dark

...explode from every direction. His back vibrates each time a bullet hits the brick wall he’s against.

Derrick was separated from his group in the middle of a supply run. The stricken force them to split up.

Trying to get back he came across these pure bloods eager to steal what he’s scavenged and do who knows what to him. It’s never good. And he needs to deliver the loot. Crucial medicines are in his bag. Medicines someone back at camp needs immediately.

Many times the monsters of this world aren’t the stricken but rather the pure bloods. The people who’ve managed to escape the plague of the stricken have only done so through aggressive brutality. The stricken are small potatoes to the thinking pure bloods. People who torture for what they want. Without a moral compass. They kill indiscriminately. They rape and steal whatever, whoever, whenever.

After the fall of the government the law dissolved. Survival of the fittest began but was overtaken by survival of the monstrous.

Derrick is cornered. Wedged into the gap in a brick wall. There’s nowhere left for him to run. His pistol is dry. Panicked, he...

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Staying Alive II

...shrieking of screamer ghouls buries the whimpering of the grumblers. It hits Alex like nails on a chalkboard, amplified by the migraine. They’ve caught his scent. He opens one eye to assure his lead pipe is nearby. He’s kept the pipe since it first saved his life and remained the one reliable weapon he can use. He tried others, but they didn’t go too well. Like the time he tried to use an easier to wield kitchen knife, but was forced to get too close to a screamer and almost died.

The pipe is there, but fizzy. The migraine makes it hard for Alex’s eye to focus or gather the right amount of light. Things turn out to be fuzzy, nearly shapeless blobs that are too dim or too bright. He grabs it from the edge of the bed where he flung it. His grip tightens around the base of the pipe. “I could do this,” he tells himself.

Alex’s only chance for survival now lies in getting out of the building and away from the horde before they reach him or see him. They’ll inch closer tracking his scent. As long as they don’t lay eyes...


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On The Edge

...stand closer together and merge into one observer. A living shadow obsessed with the nearest star. Dozens of ballet dancing fireflies twirl out of the woods. Spinning and dancing around this bigger deformed shadow.

Birds glide away into the sun. They become silhouettes themselves and vanish between the sky and ocean.

The shadow divides into two and face the emptied forest...

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Staying Alive

...in view, a small military unit and several civilians back up past the alley. Alex debates coming out and joining them, but before he could decide to do so they’re out of site on the other side of the alley. Following them is a horde of infectees. Hundreds deep. He figures keeping his silence is the safest bet. In all probability they’re going to die in a few short moments.

In the last two days Alexander has seen the infectees attract more of their kind. They travel in packs. The assumption is that the same situation is taking place. He devises a plan to creep away in the opposite direction of the horde. If done with good timing it might be clear enough to move unnoticed. To escape the area undetected. He’d be the ghost of the apocalypse...

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Watch Docs

...one of them just died. The symptoms are identical in the one I’m watching and she has just begun to seize. No words describe the horror I feel. This patient that isn’t even mine. Dr. Krapovski left me in charge while he tends to his recently deceased other patient. I’m alone.

The nursing staff scrambles into the room with a crash cart. A couple of deep breaths and I focus. Pull back onto the game. The balls on my court.

A nurse hands me levetiracetam and I sent it right through the patients IV. She rapidly calms to a full halt before her monitor flat lines.

The nurse preps the defibrillator. I apply both paddles. “CLEAR!” I say. The girl’s body jumps, chest...

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The Circle

...but he tries to relax. He can’t seem to stop kicking and flailing wildly.

As James struggles to hold himself up the rope swings left and right. Bounces up and down. Tightens as it twists and turns making it increasingly difficult to grip.

“How do I get out of this?” James tries to focus, “How do I pull myself up and over?” but he can barely keep it together. Images of family members and his children keep getting in the way. His mind wanders against his will. He rather keep it on solutions. Active and capable. But his rational mind believes it’s too late.

Struggling with which...

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