The Darkness Rising Intro (Sci-fi) Im 16

Preface
Love is such an interesting word. It stands for an emotion that no word is capable of explaining or come close to comprehending, so all we can do is brand it as love. No similes or metaphors come close to the true feeling, that spark and ache in our hearts when you’re with the one you love. Love usually comes when you least expect it. Before you know it, you’re locked in it’s toxic embrace, forever trapped in an eternal cycle of ecstasy and disappointment.
People do stupid shit for love. People are willing to die for it. People will kill for it. Some will do both.
         That’s the only way to tell love apart from true love, when you’re ready to do those things. When you’re ready to kill or die for them. When you’d do practically anything for them, because they are what your existence revolves around. True love is insanity. It is inconceivable in human nature. People always have desires, but once you’ve experienced that level of love, you lose interest in anything else. That feeling becomes as much a part of you as your own beating heart. That sensation is all you want, your only desire, and you’re willing to do anything to keep that feeling.
Kill. Die. Jump feet first into hell. For Mark Preston, he’d do all three.


Welcome to Sector 7
Mark sprinted down the hallway, his metal boots thumping against the ground in rapid succession. The mechanisms of his suit hissed and whined with every movement as millions of microfibers enhanced his speed and strength. The teal oval visor of his helmet glowed vibrantly from his obsidian armor as dozens of shadowy creatures scampered behind him. His breaths were outmatched by his racing heart. The filters of his helmet were unable to stop the putrid smell of his foes from reaching him, and as a high pitched screech tore through the hallway, he thumbed a plasma grenade from his armor as he lobbed it backwards.
         The traction of his boots let him cut the corner sharply as he cleared the blast radius. His brother and partner John was motioning to him from a door at the end of the hallway as the grenade went off. The white hot plasma vaporized dozens of the creatures instantly in the blast radius, and Mark nearly fell as a wave of heat and pressure blasted against his back. He dove through the doorway as the man slammed it shut with the push of a button.
         One agile creature slipped under the door a moment before being crushed to death as it leapt at Mark, who was still on the ground. It was a slender nightcrawler, around a foot long with eight thin legs and two razor sharp pincers attached to it’s jaw. The glossy black skin reflected the light from John’s visor vibrantly as its dozen bready crimson eyes focused on the grounded man, it’s body thirsting for blood.
         But John read the attack long before it happened, and in a swift kick launched the nightcrawler into the opposing wall. Critically wounded, it tried to get back up as Mark rolled over, bearing his midnight black shotgun on the nightcrawler as he pulled the trigger. The creature vanished as the invisible laser beams vaporized its flesh in an instant, not even leaving ashes behind.
         The nightcrawlers on the other side scraped and clawed at the door to no avail. The brothers looked at each other for a moment when John said, “Get off your ass, we don’t have time,” as he headed to the only window of the room that led to the roof.
         Mark slid the now red radiator cap off of his compact scatterblast shotgun to reduce the heat manually as he stood up, not bothering to respond. He stood well over six feet as his visor and octagonal power core in the center of his chest plate illuminated the area around him. The smooth curves of his armor grooved around him to fit his personal body type perfectly; giving him maximum mobility. John smashed the glass with his armored fist, scraping away the window shards as he lifted himself out. “Come on Mark, didn’t I mention the time already?”
         Mark cursed under his breath as he moved onto the roof in a fluid jump, his boots easily keeping traction to the sharply angled surface. John activated a small spherical incendiary grenade and rolled it into the room as they moved across the roof, the blinker quickly timing down. After several seconds, a loud whoosh rang through the air as flames erupted from the grenade. The vicious fire hungrily licked up the walls, as though it were a feast for the impoverished while the brothers scaled down the roof.
         The moment they hit the ground, Mark said, “Call the Viper over John, we need to finish this quickly in case they decide to relocate.”
         “I’m already on it,” John said as he opened a console on his armguard, opening a hologram keyboard as he typed in a command.
         A concealed speeder started up a hundred yards away, it’s anti-grav thrusters lifting the vehicle off the ground by a foot as it raced over to it’s owners. The midnight black paint and tinted windows of the four door vehicle made it all but invisible except for the stirring ground beneath the thrusters; it’s elegant curves letting it cut through the night like a dart. The roof had engraved tiles that absorbed enough sunlight in a single day to run for several days like most personal speeders. Mark and John headed to the trunk of the Viper, sliding the trunk open as John pulled out a large plasma bomb. He fiddled with the hologram keypad for a few seconds and said, “I’ll go deal with this, take the wheel and get ready to go.”
         Mark nodded as he threw his shotgun in the trunk and entered the drivers seat, sliding the door upwards and closing it with a button. He turned off the automated computer navigation system and switched to manual as he scanned the area around John, cautious for nightcrawlers fleeing the house. “It’s done,” John said, their helmets linked to a shared communications channel.
         He swiftly ran across to the speeder and entered the passenger’s seat as Mark gunned the thrusters, speeding to a safe distance as the bomb went off. The entire house vanished in the blast as smoke and gas from superheated metal clogged the air. A pressure wave washed over the Viper, which remained stable as they continued driving off. “Maybe I should’ve added a few more seconds,” John said as he clicked a button on his armor console.
         His helmet folded over in several sections simultaneously, compacting itself tightly as the flattened piece moved over his torso. The armor was scratched and worn in several places from the previous battles in the building, but it had suffered no major damage. He ran his hand through his wavy brown hair, which was the same color as his eyes.
         Mark knew John was kidding, they were at a safe distance when it went off. But he was more troubled by the entire mission altogether as he deactivated his helmet as well. It had taken him several months to get used to the snapping mechanical parts of his helmet as it compacted itself, but by now it was as natural to him as his own heartbeat. The scanner and other basic features of his helmet vanished as his holovisor was deactivated, his eyes adjusting to normal sight as he entered a street made of crete, a common artificial material used for roads, towards the highway. “I couldn’t believe the shit that was down there, we haven’t had a mission like this in…a year maybe?” John asked.
         “I’d say so. I doubt we’ll get anything this hard for a while."
         Mark couldn’t have been more wrong.
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         “More have landed Zorrul. How should we proceed?” An ancient voice asked.
         “We found them too late. All we can do now is stop more from coming, and hopefully they can contain the parasite.”
         “But what it they can’t? You and I both know what it can do, are we leaving this planet to it’s doom? And what if it spreads?”
         “Do not worry Azrael. We will do what we can. But for now we must wait, for I fear the Damned have delivered more than the parasite.”
         “So be it, brother.”
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