[b]Character:[/b] [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3449302]PFC Michael Roper[/url]
[b]Location:[/b] Orik Farmstead
[b]With:[/b] No one.

[hr]

"This must be some kind of training op," Michael muttered to himself. "Black Mesa... was it just some elaborate test ground of some new weapon?" 

It was no secret to the boys of the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit that the U.S Government was overseeing some pretty shady projects. In fact, that was the main reason that the HECU existed in the first place. He'd only been in the unit for eighteen months, but in that time he'd seen some pretty trippy sights - though the aliens (imagined?) at Black Mesa certainly proved to be the crescendo of oddities that the Government had thrown his way. 

Something latched around his ankle, like an iron clamp, and squeezed hard until it hurt. Michael jumped, dropping the touch screen tablet, and looked down just in time to see one of the corpses at his feet close its jaws around his boot. 

"Gah! What the fuck!?" He screamed, his voice sounding like the guttural cry of a robot gorilla thanks to the voice changer. He tried to kick his foot free of the corpse, but found it impossible. Bringing the shotgun up in a panic, he pointed it at the thing's head and pulled the trigger. The corpse's head disappeared behind the bright muzzle flash, sending an uncountable amount of skull and gloopy brain fragments skittering in all directions. 

Michael backed away, the corpse's teeth and parts of it mouth still fixed to the end of his boot. "What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?" 

The second corpse was still inanimate, though it had slumped forwards - obviously as the other one had moved to attack Michael. None of this made sense, but then, nothing in the last twenty four hours of his life made much sense. Was he in some kind of high tech military training facility? Did they dope him with acid? They'd done that before. He tried to recall every moment of his life before he was sent to Black Mesa, looking for a break in its continuity - a moment that would provide a clue as to where he was. 

And then the door to the living room swung open, crashing against the wall. The rotted frame gave way, and the whole lot tumbled to the floor. Two men stumbled inwards, their clothes torn and tattered, their flesh dry and cracked. White eyes settled on Michael, and they froze as if surprised. 

Michael raised his shotgun at them. "Stay back! Stay the fuck back!"