Unknown Entity

Ring-a-round the rosie,

A pocket full of posies,

Ashes to Ashes,

We all fall down!

CHAPTER 1

Alright, alright, settle down, children. My body has grown frail in these years. [The trio walks to a the window near them.]

You see that? Have you been down there? No? I didn't think so. But I have. Many a years ago, of course. But, I remember it. Yes, I remember it very well.

Can you go down there? [Chuckling] No, no, my child. You must stay here. It's far too dangerous out there. Perhaps in time. You are curious, just as I was. I had always wanted to explore the Ruins, discover their secrets and mysteries. [Quiet sigh] I was young, then. As young as you, probably. No, child, I was not always this old. And you, you will not always be this small.

A story? I have many. In time, perhaps, when you are older. Then you will understand.

Several years later.

Come, my child. [Coughing] You are still a child in my eyes. Sit, sit.

Can I tell you a story? One you may not have heard? Yes, this is the one you've been wanting to hear. It started, what... around seventy-something years ago? Yes, something, [coughing] something like that. Grab a drink, child, you may be sitting here a while.

Eighty-one years prior.

"What's out there?"

"Many things, my son. Many things. Not all of them good. Both the wonders and horrors of the old world." He gave a light chuckle, then ruffled his son's hair.

"You will understand, my son. All in good time." He looked at the black sky, at the faint signs of stars that appeared. "All in good time."

Thirteen years later.

"'Ey, Ghostie, Dane! Catch anything good on your little hunting trip?" Kyser, the guard on duty at the gates, yelled out at 'Ghostie' and Dane as they approached the gates, Dane lugging a sled behind him.

"As it so happens, we did! Caught a Sabre little under a klick from here!" Dane moved aside slightly, giving a view of a large creature (which barely resembled a Sabretooth, moreso that of a highly deformed and mutated bear). "Took quite a few hits to kill." He motioned to the arrows and bulletholes visible.

"'Ay, Ghostie, you're quite persistent with that bow of yours."

"It does help I'm a great shot." Ghostie responded.

"True, true." He turned. "'Ay! Open the gates, will you?"

An incompehensible shout was heard from the other side. The large, metal gates slowly slid aside to allow entry.

"Should be good eating, dontcha think?" Ghostie nudged Dane.

"Yeah. We've been having good hunting lately. 'nd you are a better shot than ever with that bow."

"Why, thank you. You aren't too bad yourself with that rifle. Say, is Uncle Sasha done with that scope yet?" He asked as he took hold of the sled, slinging his bow over his shoulder.

"Nearly. The Stalkers have brought back a lot of stuff from the Zone lately. Looks like junk to me, but he says it's useful, so, who am I to judge?"

Their small-talk was ended when a large, burly, jovial-looking man approached them. "Ah, my hunters! I see you have gotten another good Sabre, eh?" He said, stroking his beard - which, I might add, was of considerable length.

"That we did, Borov. Quite the catch, this one." Dane responded.

Borov let out a mighty laugh. "Bring it around the back, I'll have this edible in no time."

"I got this." Dane said, and took the length of rope, lugging it towards the alleyway by the building.

"Alright. See you Borov!" He waved lightly.

"Give Uncle Sasha a hello for me, eh Zane? Goodbye!" He waved, then put his hands on his hips, watching him go. Borov looked down at his apron, sniffed, then turned and walked back inside.

Zane - or, Ghostie, as he had come to be known by his friends, and generally the entire town - walked down the length of the dust road, towards a house at the end of said road. He said a few hellos to a few people, but otherwise his short walk went uninterrupted.

Having reached the door, he gave a light knock before opening it. He first took off his armor plates, then his coat, then put his bow - which looked surprisingly small - in his own room before heading to his father's study. His father was 'working', as usual, though on what he had never told him.

He looked up, his glasses low on his nose. "Ah, my son. You have returned from your hunting trip." He took said glasses off, and placed them on the table. "Come. I have something to show you." Zane stepped aside and allowed his father through. His father had always been straightforward.

Sasha walked all the way to the attic, to a dresser towards the back. He had look through it. There wasn't anything in it, except some dust and a...

A box. An old, metal box with a lock that was probably just as old. He had tried - and failed - to open it before, years ago. He pulled up two chairs and motioned for Zane to sit down.

He was curious, but said nothing about the box.

"You are twenty-three now. You have had experience in the wilds, and I believe you are ready." He paused. "I've spoken with the Colonel, and he believes so too. You are going to begin training as a Stalker soon. Due to your considerable interest in bows, I have decided to give you this." He took a slightly-rusted key from his shirt pocket, and quickly unlocked the box, throwing the lock itself aside. Inside was yet another case, though it was in much better condition than the first. He undid two latches, opening it. He picked up a bow, which, in Zanes' eyes, was beautiful. It wasn't wood, like his current bow. The edges of the bow were 'curled' away from the shooter, and the bow itself seemed highly flexible. It did have a certain allure to it, to be sure. As he picked it up, it fit almost perfectly in his hand.

"This bow was made in the Old World. Few people now can repair it, and perhaps one or two can copy its' craftmanship. Do not, under any circumstances, lose it. You will most likely never find a weapon like it. Use it well."

"I will, father." He looked down at the bow and gripped it tightly.

Four years later.

His first solo-field mission. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just a recon mission, but it was his first. Before he had always gone with his mentor, Kro. Kro was certainly an expert, and, despite having remarked "I am by no means a teacher," when first introduced with his student, he had proven to be a great mentor. Zane had learned a lot from him in the four years under his guide. Zane had come to be known as Ghost (after his earlier nickname Ghostie), due to his natural aptitude for stealth. The training to become a Stalker was rigourous, but Stalkers had to be strong to survive the Ruins. They were by no means alone here, as there were 'cities' (if they could be called that) to the North, but few ventured there. Their town was self-sufficient, so they had no need to move there. There were stories of people who had come from said cities, and stayed here for a while. They had all left, eventually, but they hadn't met with anyone since... whenever those stories took place. No one knew.

Ghost had evaded danger so far, having encountered some Sabres and a spider-like creature he hadn't seen before. He hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far, except a cave a klick from the town - he assumed it was a nest for something, so he wrote it down on a pad next to a map he had drawn of his route. He didn't expect the trip to be eventful, they wouldn't send a rookie to a place they suspected of being dangerous - too dangerous for him to handle, that is.

The excitement of him being on his first mission had faded by three hours. He had seen an odd creature from a ways away. It was humanoid, with dark skin and tentacles emanating from around it's mouth. It was apparently feasting on some creature - perhaps what once had been a human. He had watched it for a few seconds before it lifted it's head and let out a bloodcurling shriek. He then had taken his leave - quite quickly.

He hadn't used any of his arrows on his trip - which he suspected would happen very rarely, if ever. He was still the only one of the town's stalkers to use a bow - most of them preferred a Kalashkinov or hunting rifle. Kro himself used a hunting rifle, customized with materials gathered from the Ruins. He had seen him cleaning it and performing maintenance on it, nearly everyday. He was using the same bow his father gave him four years ago. His father had passed two years after that, however. Kro had become more of a father figure as well as mentor - he had himself been close with Sasha.

He hadn't come in view of the town itself before he noticed the smoke. It was light, not heavy, but it was there. He was immediately concerned. He began running towards the town, adrenaline as well as fear rushing through him. He faltered once the town came in view. "No... not possible." He whispered quietly. The gates were torn, apparently from an explosion. He was suddenly filled with hatred. He wanted to put arrows in anyone and everyone who was involved in the attack, but he gathered himself and filed that anger away for later. The front gates were the only way in that he knew of, but he was cautious. Whoever attacked appeared to be gone, but he hoped there were few stragglers so he could stick an arrow through their throat.

As he stepped through the gate, he gasped, then sat down.

Bodies were strewn about the street. Only a few buildings were left relatively unscarred, and even then, there were still bulletholes. How could they have overrun the entire town, whoever 'they' are? They were well-armed. It didn't make sense to him. What he did know, was they whoever attacked were savages. They didn't care who they killed.

He noticed the stalker's 'headquarters'. Three bodies were laid out front. The building itself had, most likely, a grenade thrown at it, resulting in a large hole in the corner. He moved closer, than saw a figure moving from the alleyway. "Who-" The male managed to mutter before Ghost shot an arrow through his chest.

"'Ey, Kirill! Look at this coat I found." Another one stepped through the hole in the side, right in front of the body of his now-expired comrade. He looked at the body, then at Ghost. He lived for another two seconds - then an arrow through his heart. He recognized that coat - it was Kro's. He took it from the hands of the dead bandit, then removed the arrow, wiped the blood off of it, and stuck it back in his quiver. He spat on the body.

He threw the coat over his shoulder, then jumped inside. He moved all the way to the back before finding Kro, surrounded by several dead bandits. He set his bow down and kneeled beside him.

"Zane..." He muttered quietly.

"Kro?" He responded in disbelief.

Kro's eyes fluttered open. "My name is John." He coughed. "There were... too many of them. They overran us," he sputtered, "within an hour."

"It's okay, it's okay." He tried to reassure him, even though he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Wear that coat with pride." He motioned at the coat thrown over Zane's shoulder. He then turned his head. "The desk. Look inside." He coughed. "You must follow it. There will be dangers. Hardships. Challenges. You must... must make it through." His eyes opened and closed - he was fading.

"I will. I will. I won't fail you."

John nodded, then closed his eyes.

Zane swallowed, and a tear slowly fell from his eye. He sat back for a moment, staring. Then he wiped his eyes and stood up. The desk, he thought. He turned, towards an overturned metal desk. He quickly rummaged through the drawers, before finding a document. Nothing else was in the desk, just this. He turned the desk back up, then opened the document on top of it. An audio file, as well as something to play it on, was the first thing he noticed.

"Attempt 1 at speaking with the only survivor of the event."

"Tiger? Tiger, can you understand me?"

[Incomprehensible muttering]

"Tiger, can you recount what happened?"

[Muttering stops] "It was everywhere. Everywhere... and nowhere."

"I don- can you expand apon th-"

[Screaming] "IT KILLED THEM! IT KILLED ALL OF THEM!" [Pause]. "and it's eyes." [sobbing]

"It's eyes were as black as the abyss."

"Tiger, are you alright? Do you need water?"

"It showed me nightmares." [sobbing continues] "I can't... I can't..."

"I'm going to leave now, Tiger." [Chair being pushed back]

[Grunts and shouts of struggle as Tiger grabs the Interviewer]

"The... K-remlin." [Tiger falls]

"What- we need a doctor in here!" [Incomprehensible]

TAPE END.

Zane stood in silence for several minutes. Event? What event? He read the document.

INCIDENT A-1: From what has been gathered, Team Zeta was sent into a previously unknown portion of the Ruins. Team Zeta was attacked, and wiped out. Only Tiger was recovered in a location seven kilometers from the original location. Tiger was speaking incoherently, and rarely spoke in full, comprehensible sentences. After the interview, Tiger expired, and a cause of death has not been found.

There were four more incidents; he skipped down to the last one.

INCIDENT F-5: Team Echelon was sent into the same area of the Ruins as Team Zeta. They reported in several times before radio contact was cut. E stimated distance into the Ruins was seventeen klicks. Radio and audio recorder was discovered by a body of one of the members of the team, once again a large distance from the zone they were exploring. On the device was a normal conversation, presumably as the team was on the move. A crack could be heard, then gunfire. Heavy breathing afterward, as if the holder of the device was running away from something, then a gunshot. The 'victim' could be heard muttering, then screaming. Afterwards, he said into the recorder "Kremlin". The location or identity of the 'Kremlin' is still unknown.

Stunned silence. Did John want him to pursue this? He was by no means an expert Stalker. And, from the looks of this, it was beyond his experience. Five teams had encountered them, and had been annihilated, while the survivors were nearly completely insane. Nevertheless, he had promised him in his dying breath he wouldn't fail him.

He took off his quiver and backpack, then slid the long coat on. It covered nearly his entire frame, and reached his boots. He put the quiver back on, but carried his backpack so he could put some extra supplies in it - he wasn't originally prepared for a long trip - he was going to head to the nearest city and from there... well. He'd figure something out. He took John's sidearm, and strapped it to his thigh. He took a bottle of water from a dead bandit, and a sealed can of what he thought - or rather, hoped - was beef. He had probably enough to last him a week - if he rationed it.

He looked at John's body one last time. He nodded once in respect, then walked out, and towards the gates. He heard shuffling inside of a building to his right. He quickly nocked an arrow and aimed at it, only to find a girl - fiteen, sixteen, perhaps - was there, pointing a pistol at him. "Who are you? Are - are you one of them?" She asked, obviously angry.

"If I were, you'd be dead already." He responded, aiming his bow downward. "I'm a Stalker. I just came back from a patrol mission to..." He swallowed. "This." He sighed. "My name is Ghost."

She lowered her weapon. "I'm... I'm Jen." She moved towards him. "They... they shot my parents."

"It's alright now. They won't be coming back. You okay?" He knelt down in front of her.

"I'm fine." She responded, almost defensively. "Are you staying here?"

"No, no. I'm going to the city. And you're not staying here." He responded, standing up.

"You mean I'm coming with you?" Her eyes lit up, despite what had happened around her.

"I'm not going to leave you here, so, yes. You're a curious one, aren't you?" He gave a slight smirk. She reminded him of... well, him, when he was her age. "Sit down here for a moment, I'll be right back."

She crossed her arms, almost as if pouting, as he turned and ran towards his house.

It wasn't destroyed, but he didn't expect it to be. No one would have been inside, and he doubted these bandits just mindlessly blew everything up. No, they would have tried to loot as much as they could. He walked through the already open door, and towards his room. There wasn't much in there, just a dresser, his bed, a table beside it. He did, however, have his old bow, which was surprisingly small. It did not seem so at the time of using it, but after having grown another half foot and gaining muscle, he realized it. He picked it up, along with a spare quiver of arrows. He doubted she could use it skillfully, but she'd learn. He stopped. This would most likely be the last time he'd ever be in this place. His home. If he ever did return, he would be a different person. He sighed. Then, he walked out, and back to Jen.

"Here." He handed the bow to her.

She looked at it, then back at him. "A bow? I don't know how to use a bow." Her brow was raised in questioning.

"I'll teach you. You'll have some time to learn. Until you're ready, stick to that pistol, and this," he took a knife from a small sheath behind his waist, and handed it to her, handle first. She looked at him, then grabbed it, sticking it in her backpack.

"Well," She said, slightly impatient. "are we going to go?"

"Make no mistake, the Ruins is a scary place. It is not fairyland. We will face some... disturbing things."

"I'm ready." She replied confidently.

"Well then," He turned towards the gates.

"Let's go."

END OF CHAP. 1.

IMG REF FOR ZANE: http://hagtorp762.deviantart.com/art/Stalker-leaves-the-swamp-450532209