Shadows of JiangXi

[Akura]

The Marine firing team proceeded slowly, their weapons raised, ready to fire on anything that moved. The group was lead by a monster of a man, heavily armoured, standing almost seven feet tall, with a high-calibre machinegun. Each of them shared the same patches, a Red Bear on a black background, symbolising their squad's codename.

Leader raised his hand, clentching it into a fist, displaying the order to halt.

Ahead of them, enveloped in the fog was a wreck, evidenced by the large broken silhouette of what seemed to be a downed Sabre, parts of it's armour and wings scattered some distance from the crash, the ground churned and a tree horizontal.
This ship crashed with some force, and there was no way it would ever fly again. It's main hull was split and bent beyond repair, a single days weather taking it's toll on the hull, rain and dirt burning out the electronics and engine systems.

The Leader relayed a number of hand signals, ordering the four Marines under his command to split up into pairs, progressing in different directions through the scrap metal. Alone, he moved forward, slowly scanning the debris with the barrel of his machine gun.

He came to a metal crate, wet and dirty from the weather, half wedged into the mud, no symbols or identification of any kind. His left hand reached out, his right hand steadying his gun. Before he could open it, there was gunfire.

It was one of the other Marines, not too far away from Leader's position, there were long bursts of AK74 fire, followed by shouts and curses in Russian. Leader raised his gun, briskly headed towards the sounds, continually aware, the experience of a veteran Marine guiding his thoughts and actions.

Rounding the larger part of the Sabre wreck, he tracked movement, aiming at one of his Marines. The Marine was jittery, his rifle sweeping the bushes, trying to aquire a phantom target. He squeezed the trigger twice, firing two bursts blindly into the bushes.

"Marine?" the Leader spoke, looking amongst the grass and debris for the other Marine,

"It-it killed Chekov, so fast... it took his knife..." the Marine babbled, refusing to lower his weapon, fear and adrenaline gripping him,


Across the debis, the other pair of Marines had heard the gunfire, raising their weapons, the first of the two spun tightly on the spot, firing off his own assault rifle at a shadow, it's mass crumpling over on the spot.

As the second Marine approached, the mass came into view a little clearer, visable as a wild Coyote-like creature, likely hunting for scraps and isolated Soldiers.

"It's nothing... let's-" the second Marine started, a different, larger shadow visably moving behind the first Marine,

The shadow grabbed the first Marine, a human arm visable through the thin fog, hooking the Marine's throat and holding him in place, a second arm grabbing the Marine's right hand, raising his gun and squeezing the trigger.
The bullets cut through the second Marine, moments before he could fire his own gun, the close range garunteeing a quick kill.

The first Marine panicked, his struggle ending when he felt the blade of a combat knife slipping under his left arm, bypassing his armour and peircing somewhere near his heart.

He doubled over, rolling onto the ground, his vision blurring over as he began loosing blood, the silhouette of his hunter standing over him.

The hunter wore a strange hooded black and red uniform of some kind, his skin pale, with a pair of eyes unlike any the Marine has ever seen before, they contained no personality, no hint of emotion or feeling, just a blank grey. The Marine could have sworn they briefly glowed a shade of blue or purple as he lost his vision completely, darkness and bloodloss consuming him...


A few hundred miles to the east, there was a command post monitering the movements and communications of the Marine Squad 'Red Bear', a squad who was late to report in.

"Sir, we just lost all communications to Red Bear" the Comms officer spoke, relaying her message to the Commissar standing over her,

"Do we have any other units available in the area?" the Commissar spoke,

"Da, but they are an hour out" she answered, registering his nod, "But... a Captain E. Alveraz happens to be running a survival training exercise a few miles from the crash site"

"Inform him of the situation, if anything survived that crash, I want it dead" the Commissar ordered, "It should add an interesting twist to the training anyway..." He turned on the spot and leaving the command room.