October 25, 2009
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The night sky was ablaze with explosions and missiles and the air was filled with the sound of gunfire and screams. I was sitting in a bunker reloading my rifle to return fire when my corporal Roberts crawled up to me. “They’re trying to flank us, Sergeant! What’ll we do?”, he shouted. “Give me some cover fire. I’m moving to the right side. We need to hold position until reinforcements arrive,” I replied and started to creep to the flank, making sure that my head wasn’t an open target for the snipers. I moved next to my friend, Sgt. Baker, and said, “Happy birthday to me, huh?” I shouted over the explosion of a nearby grenade. “Less moping, more fire! They won’t wait for you to have a good cry!” He replied. And began to return fire. I moved on to a nearby spot and stationed myself in a small ditch that made it easy for me to them and hard for them to shoot me and looked down the scope of my M21 sniper rifle. A target was running for some cover 20 or 30 feet away. “Poor sap...” I muttered and pulled the trigger. Headshot. Another target was coming up fast, holding two grenades, probably about to explode, and sprinting for the bunker. I quickly aligned the sights and fired. Got him right in the leg. I let his own grenades finish the job.
I heard a sniper shot to my left. I jerked my head and saw Baker on the ground. I swore under my breath and rushed to him. I checked his pulse. Still alive. I hoisted Him onto my shoulder and tried to move him out of the area. The sniper wasn’t done yet. He fired and it hit me in the shoulder. I winced from the pain but I had to get him out of here. Another shot into my arm. I set him down behind a rock far away from the fighting and started to limp my way back. I couldn’t abandon my squad. I wouldn’t let them die. I took an RPG missile launcher, a C4 remote detonation charge, and an M4 assault rifle and jackknifed my way past enemy lines, shooting at all enemies in range. I spotted a tank opening fire on my men. My last target. I somehow made it to the Tank, planted the C4 onto the back of it. I got some distance between the tank and me. A shot was fired. I was more shocked then in pain. I knew this was it. I took the remote for the C4 and flipped the switch. Ka-boom. I saw the tank explode in every direction and then I lost the strength to hold on. My eyes were getting heavy. My arm fell to the ground. Then the darkness came.
“Wake up, Mr. Miles....” came a small sound from the darkness. I felt as if I was drowning in ink, unable to see where I was, or even more, who I was. Then the voice became more irritated. “I said get up, Mr. Miles”! When I opened my eyes, everything was too bright to see. “Ah, finally, he stabilized...” came another voice that was very unlike the other one. “Yes. Go prepare the anesthesia” replied the familiar voice. Then my eyes began to develop. I was floating in a tube filled with water. How could I see everything so clearly, or even breathe? The second this thought came into my head, the water began to drain through the tiny holes in the bottom of the tube. Then the doors opened and I fell to the ground. I tried to stand up, but it felt like my muscles had the strength of a four-year-old and I stumbled back to the ground. “Good morning and happy birthday Mr. Miles. You’ve been asleep for 3 years,” said the voice with a pleasant tone. Then I saw him. He was a young man, maybe in his early twenties with bleach blond hair and blue eyes. “Miles....?” I asked. “Yes. You are Sergeant John Desmond Miles, the hero who selflessly fought through enemy lines to save your team from certain defeat,” he replied cheerfully. “Welcome to testing Facility A-81”.
He paced to the tank I just stumbled out of. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember anything. Activating Memory Acquisition”. He pushed a switch and I started to hear a humming in my mind until it became a violent screech as everything flooded into my mind. The bunker, the tank, Sergeant Baker, and my death all forced its way into my brain. I gasped for breath and wiped sweat from my forehead. “Now do you see?” he said. “You are a hero. You were one of the best soldiers in the world and you threw it away!” He shouted happily, yet almost maniacally. “ The government wants to bring you back. Make more of you, stronger and better. An indestructible army”. “That’s where you come in. We need you to complete our plan. This way, please”.
He motioned to a table where I laid down obediently. “What are you going to do to me...?” I inquired. He laughed. “A very good question indeed. I intend to remove your brain and take the data of what we need bit by bit. And we will no longer need you.” He pulled out a large scalpel. Then I felt a primal fear that I have never felt before. Something screamed inside my head, “RUN AWAY”! I kicked the good doctor squarely across the chest and sent him reeling across the room and I leapt up and ran out the door into a narrow hallway. The pain in my undeveloped legs was like fire, but I had to keep moving. I ran down the stairs and I just kept running and running until I came to a mechanical door. There was a retina scan by the door and I tried it. The door hissed and slowly opened and I limped slowly inside.
It was like a beautiful courtyard, but the ground was clean and almost like polished steel. Just like this whole place. I walked down the middle of the garden and saw a tube exactly the same as the one I came out of not long ago. Dust had formed on the glass and was not clear but I could tell there was someone inside. I heard a hiss behind me and I jumped back. The doctor was back. Blood was trickling down his chin, but he had a goofy grin on his face. Behind him were two guards that I knew I couldn’t take on unarmed. It was over. “A beautiful place, isn’t it? I designed it myself all for one person” he said with a chuckle. He pointed to the tube. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “Look inside.” I turned to the glass and began to rub off the dust, hoping to make the image clearer. When I saw the figure, my heart stopped. It was me. “ W-Who....” I whispered. The doctor smiled. He was obviously enjoying this.
“That,” he replied, “is Sgt. John Desmond Miles. The original”. Those words seemed to pierce my entire being. “That’s right!” he shouted. “You’re a replication. A copy! You are Miles Unit-097, a prototype of what’s to come! The Future!” he laughed.
I lost all strength in my legs and stumbled to the floor. A Prototype? A fake? That’s all I am? “Now,” he said, “Are you going to cooperate”? A fire welled up inside me. Newfound power I had never felt before. “You expect me to give up just like that?” I muttered. “I exist! I have my own life and I’ll never give it up to you!” and I charged at him blindly with intent to kill. The Doctor frowned. “Eliminate the copy.” He ordered with a sound of disappointment. The guards opened fire and I hit the ground in pain, choking on my own blood. I looked straight up into the barrel of the doctor’s pistol. “Last chance,” he said with a renewed smile. “Never...” I hissed. The doctor sighed and pulled the trigger. Everything went dark. The last thing I heard was the doctor’s voice. “Blast, another Defective clone. Oh well... Unfreeze Unit-098 and let’s make sure this doesn’t happen again, shall we”? Then everything was quiet...

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