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by Yaicon
Rated: 13+ · Assignment · Sci-fi · #1343203
A creative writing assignment that I wanted to share with you all. Enjoy!

The year is 2552. Everything from cities to entire earthen civilizations have been obliterated by the inevitable nuclear holocaust. Those lucky enough to survive set out and started small colonies in whatever places they may come across. Even more so, those lucky enough to have an abundance of money saved up after such a catastrophic event were invaluable to the colonies.

But where there is money: there is corruption. Over time the richer people began to think of only themselves. It wasn’t long before a baron left to start a new civilization followed by the neighboring colonies’ richer men and women. Soon enough, the barons started a colony of their own called Rapture, not far from the rest.

More and more people left to join the newer colony for one reason: where there’s money, there is power. As the residents of the poorer colonies began to diminish the population of Rapture began to grow. The chief of the colony thought it was growing too fast and began to deny entry to his society. Not long after, he began to kick out those who were poorer than the rest, forming everlasting grudges against him.

The inferior people returned to their previous colonies to find them completely destroyed by the elements of the new world. With nowhere else to go they joined together wandering aimlessly, dying by the hundreds every week by disease and hunger. They needed to put an end to the famine. They needed… to overthrow Rapture.

The poorer people began to salvage anything they could trying desperately to form an army strong enough to attack and destroy Rapture. After only a few months, the money deprived people had retrieved enough materials to begin their first attacks.

Everything seemed to be running smoothly. The chief had thought so highly of himself that he had never expected a rebellion. He was defenseless.

But the ever cohesive residents of Rapture were not to be taken lightly. Many had saved enough weaponry over the years to pose a threat to the uprising. Now aware of the dangers, Rapture and its populace were ready to defend. They too salvaged anything they needed from the land around them. But with the addition of money, they could buy any equipment from any colony they could find, making their weapons stronger.

An all out war had been ignited. The numerous forces of the infidels attempting to defeat the powerful inhabitants of Rapture. This is the story of the final battle. This is how the human race ends.


Bullets had rained over the top of the encampment for days on end. None of their plans had worked so far. They hadn’t been able to breach Rapture’s outer wall, flanking maneuvers had been muddled, and the remaining reinforcements weren’t to arrive for a while. All they could do was wait.

John Shaw centered his scope over the head of an unfortunate Rapture defense soldier and pulled the trigger. One less enemy to worry about.

A grenade exploded off in the distance, for a moment, illuminating the carnage in the battlefield. The infidels had lost many lives and Rapture’s walls still hadn’t fallen, but there was no retreating. Not after an attack like this. The barons would retaliate within a few weeks and the infidels would be wiped out. Only one faction will walk away from this fight alive.

John scoped the landscape for another target, but found none. It seemed as if the entirety of Rapture’s defense force had completely disappeared. It was calm now.

“Captain Shaw,” One of the troops had broken away from his squad to join John, up in the cliffs around Rapture. “Where have they gone? Have we won already?”

“Not quite.” John said looking back through his scope. From this elevation he could see right over the outer wall of the city. The troops had fallen back to let the artillery through. Six T-19 Spider tanks rolled into view. They hovered three feet above the ground, using anti-gravity lifts, and had massive ten meter long missile turrets mounted where the gun of a modern tank would be. Their metallic surface and powerful guns gleamed in the moonlight.

“T-19 tanks!” John yelped, “Six of them!”

“I’ll warn the others, sir,” The soldier ran off, back towards his awe-struck comrades.

The tanks stormed out of the gate, their artificial intelligence maneuvering them around. They began to diffuse out in all directions covering the entire expanse of the battleground. John looked over to re-assure himself of his comrades’ safety. The trenches and holes they hid in would soon be found. They had to act fast.

A sniper round would not even make it past the outer layer of armor, let alone damage the circuitry safely inside the tank, but an explosive should. A few well placed grenades and those tanks would be finished. John’s hand instinctively dropped to his belt. He had only one grenade on him.

He scrambled to his feet running along the side of the cliff and down the hill. He needed to get more explosives. As he neared the closest trench he slowed down. If he was detected by the tanks, they wouldn’t be alive to help out. He slowly inched his way towards his comrades making sure to use any cover he could find.

He quickly jumped into the trench and looked around. There were a few soldiers in this ditch, only ten of them, but they looked ready to fight.

“Captain, Shaw, Sir,” The soldier from up on the cliffs walked over. “Those tanks will be on top of us any minute now. What should we do?”

“When they get close enough, just roll a few grenades under them. Their armor is weakest where the hover-lifts are.”

“Yes, Sir,” The soldier relayed the message to the others. There were very few complaints. Albeit a risky plan, it needed to be done. Until reinforcements arrive there’s nothing else they could do.

It didn’t take long for the tanks to get closer. Unfortunately, three of them would come within range of the trench Shaw was hiding in. There was complete silence aside of the hum of the tanks ever approaching. John looked over the side to see the tanks not two yards away. “Now!” He screamed jumping from of the dugout.

He broke into a sprint towards the tanks pulling the pin from his grenade. The artificial intelligence inside the tank assessed the situation, and clicked to attack mode. The missiles on the top of the tank whirred to life and took aim at John and his accompanying soldiers.

John dove under the first tank and out of sight. The warmth of the lifts greeted him. He crawled his way to the back of the tank and stumbled out. But not before leaving the active grenade under it. John didn’t wait to attack the second one.

The second tank fired a missile. Three more soldiers wouldn’t be around for the end of this battle. There was an explosion and the tank burst into flame. The three soldiers had been alive long enough to throw their grenades. Only one tank left.

John stood next to the burning wreckage of the second tank, watching one of the last seven soldiers roll an explosive under the last tank. But this tank wasn’t going to be destroyed without a fight. Its missile cannon jerked around and aimed straight at the soldier. There was an explosion. The soldier ran out of a cloud of smoke unharmed. His grenade had put the tank out of commission.

John felt like celebrating but there was no time. “We need to get into Rapture now, at all costs. Quickly, while the defense soldiers are still inside the city!”

John and his small squad made a headlong charge towards the enemy colony with malicious intent. Rapture was going to fall: one way or another.

The first few defense soldiers appeared from the entrance, guns ablaze. John was quick to fling himself into a bush and out of sight. The remainder of the stunned soldiers didn’t have enough time to conceal themselves before they were met by enemy bullets. John was all alone; pretending to be dead in an uncomfortable shrub, covered in the blood of his friends. It was a living nightmare.

John was thrown into a panic attack. Thoughts of gruesome death surrounding him. He began to sweat and shake as he heard the familiar sound of a T-19’s missile firing. The rhythmic sound of enemy boots treading inches away from his head. There was no escape.

He counted the long, agonizing moments until his legs felt solid once again. John jumped to his feet running towards Rapture’s awaiting door. Before he knew it, John was inside. Tall, almost elegant, buildings decorated a long winding road. There were armed soldiers running around without purpose, and frantic citizens trying to gather whatever they could for an evacuation. He wound his way through the throng of hysterical people, none sparing a passing glance. To them, he was just another soldier defending the once great colony. Oh how wrong they were.

John jogged casually down the main road, trying to look as if he was just another lost resident. He was looking for what would seem like a normal building. But of course, it would have guards stationed all around it protecting the contents of the edifice. The chieftain was sure to be in there.

It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for. A faded-red church littered with armed soldiers. A tall steeple rose above the tops of any building around it, but every window was boarded. John, being a trained sniper, was appalled. Such conceited people don’t deserve these luxuries if they don’t utilize every advantage they can possibly get in a combat situation.

John strolled up to the building, ruefully extending an arm to one of the guards posted at the main entrance. “Hello, Sir,” he said. “The soldiers are making quick work of the infidels.”

The guard shook John’s hand and smiled. “Good to know.”

“How’s the chief doing?”

“He’s a little shaken but he’ll be fine.”

“Where is he? Can I visit him?” John asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Without a word, the sentinel, opened the door and let John through. His newly devised plan was going much smoother than he had expected.

They walked into the church’s main room. What once were religious statues, and offerings to whatever gods the barons had created and worshiped, were replaced with the cold, steel of guns and other weaponry. Ammunition crates were strewn about, everywhere, only a few of them opened.

“This church could take on the rebels single handedly.” John said, admiringly.

The guard seemed almost thrilled to boast about being in such a well defended building. “We even have a few T-19s in the next room. Right now, we make Fort Knox look like Childs play.”

John’s focus suddenly drifted. This man’s pride could cause the end of his colony. “What made you think that you would ever need Spider tanks in this place?”

“Only the best for the chief: we aren’t taking any chances with him around.”

John grinned from ear to ear, trying to stifle a laugh. He was fully convinced that money and power were the main cause of rotting minds. Simply letting John into the church was a risk, and yet they hadn’t even questioned him. Apparently some dangers are overlooked in warfare.

The sentinel led the way, weaving through the crates if munitions, to the back of the room. “The chief is down there. He’s been asking about the battle for days now, maybe you could answer some of them.”

“I sure will.” John said with a sly smile. “I sure will.”

John slowly shuffled down the torch lit hallway, until he heard the sound of the sentinel’s feet walking away. The instant he couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore, he broke into a sprint. He slammed his body into the door at the end of the hall, panting.

“Chief! The walls have almost been breached! We need reinforcements!”

The chief sat unperturbed in the center of the room. He donned the finest clothing of the new world. A long silk robe, covered in gold designs, along with a golden crown. He resembled an ancient king.

The chief calmly looked over his shoulder to face the only guard in the room. “Tell all remaining soldiers to get out there at once, send my sentinels too. I won’t need them after this battle.”

The guard bowed and jogged out of the room.

The chief then looked back at the war-torn, John. “And who might you be?”

“I am Sergeant John Shaw, sir.”

“So tell me, John, how are things on the battlefield? Do you think we will win?”

“It’s almost certain that we will win.” John said, his familiar smile flashing across his face for less than an instant.

“Go and send the Spider Tanks into the battlefield. The soldiers will be needing heavy armor as well.”

“Right away, sir,” John ran off back through the door, asking a few soldiers where the tanks were being held.

He soon found the room and hopped onto the back of an inactive tank. He pried open the top circuits hatch, revealing the tangle of wires and metal that makes up such a powerful machine.

He began to cut certain wires and sift his way farther down into the mechanism. John reached inside and ripped open one last cable, the size of his forearm. “Perfect.” He mumbled.

John hopped off the back of the machine and began to walk out of the room. “T-19 Spider Tank,” He said on his way out the door. “Activate.” He shut the door as the machine whirred to life.

John ran back down to the chief’s quarters to find him still sitting, as peaceful as one could be. “The tanks aren’t working. The nuclear power cell must have burned out.”

“No matter,” The chief said. “The soldiers will take care of it.”

John walked over to a munitions crate and began to go through its contents. “Yes, sir.” He selected a small pistol and picked out a few clips of ammunition. Not that it would be of any use. John didn’t plan on living through the final stages of his plan. In fact, he didn’t plan on anybody surviving.

“Chief,” John said with an evil leer. “You have lost this battle. You have lost this entire war.”

The Chief’s head jerked up, but his face remained serene and calm. “John, what are you doing?”

“I am Sergeant John Shaw, of the rebellion army. Trained in military mechanics, the art of the sniper,” he chuckled, “and deception.”

The chief’s face turned to one of absolute horror. “But… How?”

“I’ll spare you the details: all you need to know is that the nuclear reactor of a Spider Tank is going to obliterate any and all living things for miles. There’s nowhere to run. We are all going to die: you, me, and every soldier outside defending your pathetic excuse for a colony.”

The Chief sat despairingly, quaking as John explained to him the fate of his people. “Your own men will die too! You are a madman!”

“If my plan to destroy you and the self-righteous people of Rapture is considered mad, then I don’t ever want to be sane.”

“You’re lying!” The Chief shouted, standing up out of his chair, his crimson robe resembled fire surrounding a demon. “One man can’t destroy the city of Rapture! My soldiers will return soon and kill you!”

“Oh, but I did not do it alone. I had help from you, of course. If you hadn’t stored a tank inside this very church, I wouldn’t have been able to rig an explosive big enough to wipe us all out. It’s only a matter of time.”

“No… This can’t be!”

“Face it! I cut the power lines to everything! The power cell of the tank is going to continue to run but the energy itself will stay within the reactor. Soon enough, the reactor won’t be able to store the energy and well… let’s just say we’ll be lucky if this continent is intact after that.”

The Chief lunged away from his crude throne, in a rage, colliding with John. They plummeted to the ground in a heap of punches and kicks. A gunshot rang out, and then another. The blood soaked combatants continued to roll around in a frenzy of painful blows.

Suddenly the chief stopped, his eyes glazed. His flesh pale, and cold. He fell to the ground next to John who just lied there staring at the wooden ceiling.

Any second now, the tank’s reactor would obliterate any and all sentient life for miles. John was positive that the entire rebel militia would have agreed to his plan… and accepted its outcome. Now, with everything said and done, John let his eyes close, to await his imminent victory.
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