Delta Lima Six

It was hit and run. The driver was speeding in the west bound of the city, stretching our lines across the big territory, with intention to steer further due west and lose us in the desert. All units were called in the vicinity, but the response time prolonged because of the passing carneval. I stepped on the gas and took the back streets where cops aren’t welcome, but he just run down a human and it was my duty to catch him. I turned off my siren until I came onto more welcoming ground, then I lit all of my indicators.

– Unit Delta Lima Six in pursuit. Moving west from the hotel. I have the suspect in sight. Suspects vehicle in heading towards the junction of 5th Richmonds and Mercury street. Deploying surveillance drone. – I shouted in the hologram and switched on the mechanism that fired the drone from the car’s top.

Device flew like a rocket, evading the lamp posts and confused citizens, then it straightened up in the air to lock on the brown car. Computer in my vehicle placed antena out, expanded its radius and took over the traffic lights. Cars stopped ideally at the crosswalks, allowing me to continue in the attempt of upper handing the unidentified driver which car took on torgue.

– The vehicle is moving away from the crowd. Base to carneval distance is approximately 12 miles. Identifying process is commencing.  – robot spoke from the car, – Error occurred, beginning the the second attempt. Identifying progress at 1 percent.

Few more patrols joined in, following my ride when two police cars stopped in front of us to form a road block. Sweat ran down my face, seeing the driver taking the other rout, moving into the military base area. If we don’t stop him in time, he will enter heavily guarded turf, risking his life.

“Is he crazy to go there? That’s an US drone base. Nobody is allowed there, specially when they conduct missions.” – I thought for myself, trying to evade some people in costumes.

– Inform the Base Andrews that a rough assailant is heading their way. Tell them not to shoot, because the vehicle is being followed by the San Armando Police Department. Five patrols are behind a modular brown Lincoln Sedan. Licence plates are too dusty to get a clear view of the numbers. – I said, nervously looking at the hologram that was buzzing and losing connection.

– Delta Lima Six, your message is sent to the officer at the main gate. Drone is identifying the suspect, current progress is at the 90 percent. Stand patient for further information. – a robotic sound spoke again, but now it shimmered like it was broken.

A sharp turn made me close to the runner, where I saw a long hair sticking from the seat. She drove frantically hitting the trash cans, splashing water off the street, directly headed at the iron fence.

– Please advise. Suspect is female, probably her car got hacked. She is showing careless driving skills and mechanical movements, it is possible she has lost the control over the vehicle. – I fought to move at one rate behind her, when two GHR 334s appeared from the dirt, at the other side of the fence. Guns begun whirling, ready to destroy the brown car, turning it in a pile of scrap metal.

The car started to hit the brakes, squealing like a tiny animal, when the tyre exploden then the car tumbled and caught fire. Flames rose quickly and the whole thing soon radiated with white heat. An explosion sent blast wave towards me, and that is all I remember.

The good thing is, the people in the carnival were not hurt. Later investigation showed that someone actually have used my car and drone to hijack that brown vehicle. Someone knew what was in that car. I am glad we chase it away from the crowd.



Directive FL0001

Julie Chang, a great soldier of the Earth’s Cyber Corps was in the back, clicking on an old engine that was moments before shutdown. She used pipe that broke off to hammer on to that disfigured metal until the engine sound got a proper tune. I heard her drop that piece of tube, and steps that were approaching. Me lying in bed, covered with a blanket over knees and feet, waited for her return. She was standing on the door that jammed years ago, whipped her hands with a dirty rag, while looking at me, somewhat irritated. She tossed the rag on the floor and sat in a pilot’s chair, leaned all the way back and grabbed the joystick. A hard bash on the control board made the visor open, showing us a dusty planet we were stuck on. There it was, more than a dozen of barracks were tied for the grey territory, trembling on a sharp wind, proudly showing their holes made from the meteorite shower. Somewhere in the distance, instead of the clouds and the sky, the space opened, crawled with stars, nebulas, galaxies and a rainbow of colored mist that stood still like in a painting. To me, a glorious view, but not for the Julie.

She lit the controls, took a sip of water we were collecting for weeks, then she turned to look at me. Her face still held an ill expression, but she then smiled and got back in her chair. Dead silence surrounded us where engine purred like a kitten. If it wasn’t for that engine, we would be left out of oxygen and much needed heat. My eyes were fixed on a visor, right on a busted corner I fixed with a piece of metal I stole from the ship, then I started staring at the Julie. Memories overwhelmed me with emotions, where for a second I forgot where we were.

– We should dance again. – I said.

– How? Your legs are broken. You have over 130 years, and you never knew to dance. – she tossed it over the shoulder.

– Well, you can dance and I’ll watch. – I continued, but she made a pause.

– I have no will to dance anymore. – she said in her chin, then she rose her head, – If I knew that it will end like this, I would never sign up in the military. Look at this wretched place. – she pointed at the trash around us, visor and the galaxy.

– It’s beautiful. – I said it through smile, interrupting her monolog, but she didn’t found that funny.

– Beautiful? You are watching the same ol’ thing forever. – she wanted to say more, but it stopped.

– I was watching at you for the same amount of time, and I still find you beautiful.

– Ah, stop it. – she blushed, – There are many beautiful girls in the other galaxies.

– Yeah, but none like you.

– Oh, my… It must be the lack of oxygen that’s talking to me. – she slowly shook her head, while her eyes glistened brighter than the stars, – Who would love a wrinkled old witch like me?

– An old wrinkled son of a bitch like me. Don’t ever forget that, lady. Love is forever.

– Oh, is it now? I always thought, our thing is temporary, same like this mission. Hundred of calls, thousand of soldiers dead, dozen ships destroyed. What is left for us to do? – she spoke for herself, absently looking the oldest command, marked as FL0001.

On the screen, letters wrote directive to settle here and wait for further instructions, then the second command covered the first saying, our duty is to be available to the passing garrison, a fleet of supersonic annihilators that were headed far into the void, but they never came. We gave report that no army passed our beacons, but no one replied. Later, the command said we should stay put, until we receive another order. And so we wait for a 100 years.



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Agent of Death

Senator Witmore made it clear that this meeting is to be kept secret, so I choose a small place at the end of the city. My suit made people look at me with a general surprise and grind on their face. I was intruder to the mass of working class people and older citizens that came here for the breakfast. Anyway, I kept drinking lemonade and ate a gorgeous pumpkin pie, as it was in the season. Tv reported some commotions in Syria, saying Assad will not bow down before the Spring of brainwashed people, instructed by the mercenaries to riot if their demands are not been met. It all went as planned.

Agent Ibrahim was rallying the Kurds, payed the radical imams to preach from designated chapters of Quran and aspire them for a fight with the Turks who awaited this with knifes between teeth. Tobias gave intel from Russia, stating that all the right people are getting interested in the Levant region. I had no worry about the West and Europe, they always fall in line when shit goes down. All I needed to do is to remind them about our agreement and USA backing policy, and they would listen to whatever the command I give them.

Senator just walked in with his men and a secretary he jealously kept close to him, knowing that she will leave his bed if someone more powerful steps under the light. I wonder if his wife knows this, while she eats with her, stares at those blue eyes across the coffee table.

Bitter old man stood on the door for a moment,  then he approached me and took a sit, where the goons politely escorted the residents out of the object.

– You have a lot of nerve, calling a meeting with me. – he said with a raspy voice, moving sweat from the forehead, – You have must forgotten the history, we have shared  a long time ago. I would never agree to this if it wasn’t for the order from above. It pisses me off to see you like that, like a gentleman, like one of us. You never followed the orders when I was your superior, even less on the field. – he kept talking, looking around at his men and mistress, then he leaned on the table and took my glass, – Lemonade? Seriously? I know you have taste for a sharp drinks, but this much bitterness in not good for the heart.

– You haven’t been so interested in my health until now, so stop the act, we are not in the Parliament. I needed you for other skills you have mastered. – I said, lighting a cigarette, but he waved in the air, so I put it out.

– Other skills? What the Hell are you talking about?

– Remember what we did in Mithria? The whole shattering thing? Funding the radicals, dividing the politicians, fuelling the racial hatred and deviated nationalism? – I rocked in my chair, while his eyebrows met each other to form a rippled face, that signaled with memories from the old days, the glory days and misery we made upon civilians.

– That was a horrible thing we did, but such were our orders. I wash my hands from it. It wasn’t our fault. Our former bosses wanted that to bust up our economy by dealing with both sides, selling them weapons and throwing the old bombs on them, and turning death numbers into green bills. Did you know, that after the bombing, we built several bases there which made Russian very nervous? Oh, boy, we made it good! I bet some diplomat heads rolled down the Red Square when we were wrapping up. Ha, ha, ha. – he laughed, smacking the table, but I just smiled in broken manner.

– Great. You remember it all… I need you to do it again. – I said, when his face shifted into an old grumpy one, – Here is the authorization document for the official mission I need signed. – I said and slid him a piece of paper.

– No. – he replied, – Are you mad? Again? Where? – he asked in wonder, when I pointed my finger at the TV newscast and he bit his lip absently staring at his shoes, – So you did that? I wondered whose hand is into this, but no one could answer it. All my connections spoke of a CIA cover up and classified profiles in the firm, but I would never guess that one of mine did this. You became better than me, but my answer is still no.

– Well, I guess we can fly you out to the Mithria then. I bet they will be delighted to see the man who suggested the use of the Uranium 268 in those bombs that killed 3 000 people. Now, that much bitterness that they have is bad for your harth. Did you know that they have a saying there: We will not forgive you the children? That’s their Never Forget. Funny how fast they have let go of all the things we did there. As a normal American, I am able to walk freely through their streets, eat their food and they will call me their friend, because I am listed as a civilian, but you… They know who you are. They know it all too well.

– Are you threatening me? You piece of shit! I should have left you there to suffer. You can’t do that. THEY will not allow it, and you know it.

– Oh, but THEY did. THEY gave the order. THEY told you to meet me. Don’t you remember? – I tilted my head, proud I can finally revenge for all the things he made me do, when a pause brought the silence where he took out his pen in a bitter motion and signed the authorization of the mission Peaceful Monk, then he drank the rest of my glass, amplifying the bitter taste in his mouth.



Connected and inspired with former writing.  See it here:

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Troop tree

Here is a little info about my novel Dronstad. Here you can see how are gangs being formed and how the troops are being ranked. By a certain number of enemies killed, rank is moved up and also a level of armor. There is also a table provided for better understanding of the relations that gangs have for each other.

The story follows the young teenager, working as a delivery boy for the gang called Black Dragons. His involvement in the war, that broke his state, rises as he finds out, that he is a key of the virus pandemic that started the whole thing. Who will win? Who will take the city? Is there a chance of stopping the virus and ending the war?

Gangs of Dronstad

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Just a normal post. Nothing to see here.

Rainy days in my village, sometimes a thunder rips the cloud, so I hug my pillow, wishing it’s some girl and this song starts playing on the radio. Now I have inspiration to write. Fuck my life…. Would recommend this song played in a slow car ride with huge shades on head, right down the center of the city, or in a darken room with a broken neon light, flashing through the window.

Last Reaper Standing

I had to crawl up, right to the pick of the teeth sharp broken wall, from where the field was opening a view on a vast region, covered with craters filled with mutilated bodies. Finally I reached my location, placed my sniper in the rubble and adjusted the scope. A buzzing bullet flew over my helmet and broke in the three. They were in the grass, monitoring the field, illuminated with bright torches in the night sky that were falling like stars.

A tilt of my long dirty hair to the back, a butstock in shoulder and cheek fell on the cold metal. Another buzz broke the piece of wall, just in front of my face, but it didn’t matter. One of them rose, exposing his helmet, where in a second, a flash of bullet made a hole in it, forcing him not to rise again. A fool tried to make a run for me, but a bullet tripped him and made him call for help. Third buzz came very close, throwing dust in my eyes I had to wipe, then the fourth hit the shoulder. I just breathed deep, calmly taking air, holding the scope in the distance. Another torch lit the field, where the reflection on a metal showed me scorched vehicle.

“That is a good position for a sniper” – I thought and rolled right, to another position.

My helmet was left on a former place, attracting his attention. My staff sergeant would say: “It’s ill advised to leave your head unprotected like that”, but he is long gone. Scope was swimming across the field, when a bullet made my helmet roll down the hill, and now I changed my mind about the original plan. Alas, it was too late to do anything. I moved the body of a soldier that laid there, in dirt, and made me a good cover, where the muzzle slided perfectly under his arm. Sixth bullet flew so easily through the dead, splashing blood over me. No one is this precise in the night. It must be some thermal vision he has there.

A big flash from the torch hitting on a scope exposed his position, and yes, he was under the vehicle, right between the wheels, leaned on the one that stood straight. Other tyre was blown away from a mine, making heavy transporter to dig itself in the crater, where it couldn’t get out. The whole thing was ready to collapse, but it still stood motionless.

He fired again at me, punching another hole in my back, making me shake my head in screams and moans. My pissed face fell again on the scope, now ready to blow this motherfucker to Hell. Bursts of fire sparkled upon the vehicle, telling the other guy to bow his head, then it got concentrated on a wheel, me trying to pull it down, but it still had no change. New magazine, new position on the left, and fire came out of the sniper, pushing rubble in the cavity where the snake awaited.

He started to move back, but before he could escape, I showed one in his eye, straight through the scope. His head went back, then his whole body rose and gave a kick to the unstable machine above him. The thing came down with a metal bending, decapitating his head right on the spot.

– Oh God. I just hope that was the last one. – my silent gasp levitated in the air, while I watched the sky, lying on my back, spitting blood.



Combat lines

Our General stood there, in front of his men, turned with his back at us, while looking at the battlefield we just won. We were breathing deeply. Tired of fighting we moved warm sweat from foreheads and tried to hold ourselves in respective manner. It felt hard to stand on the trembling legs where the strength was failed me. I held myself up with a painful grip by the knee, moving flies from the dripping blood that ran down my arm.

Commander had a sad expression upon face that remained unchanged by the view on the corpses, laid in the field where vultures had a feast. Flags fluttered on the wind,  right there, in the hills of grass, creating a unique sound in the silence that consumed the space we stood on. There they laid, our brothers and sisters, intertwined with the enemy bodies, their weapons plunged into the dirt. Our only banner signaled the victory as it was pulled up with a newly added crown on the crossed swords.

Two slaves brought a chalice on a silver plate, and the second in command led a convoy of men, carrying a crate. They stopped at the right side of the General and saluted, then the demi-commander bowed while opening the crate, where the General threw his gaze on, and hid his face. Sobbs and tears fell on the ground for a second. It hit us as a surprise and silenced the conversation among men, then the General whipped his watery eyes and signed. He placed his hand in the crate and pulled a fresh clevered head of a king, that stood in our way.

– We have won, but we have broken our forces. – the General spoke in shame, copping not to burst in emotions, – You stubborn goat! – he yelled and kicked the crate, then he gently placed the head back in the wooden box.

– Sir. – second in command spoke, holding his hand in air as he wanted to approach the General, but held himself in the spot, – Should we send a messenger to inform the Imperator of our victory?

– No! You don’t send no one to the Kiaramat! He can choke on the impatient waiting and old men’s advises, that made his mind roth! – anger radiated from the General and his finger, pointed at the demi-commander that watched the ground, – I have defeated a better man than me! He was better than me and the Imperator put together! You send no one. – he said and snatched the cup filled with wine, then he turned it’s bottom and spilled the drink, looking at the process through the eyebrows, – Danm be the Imperator and the commands he provides. Damn be the Kiaramat that made me kill my own SON! Damn be this day, when righteousness fell under the pride! Damn be those that have risen arms against their own blood! Damn be those that think they are better than their enemy! – he emptied the whole cup and threw it far into the death covered landscape.



1319 A letter for the King

Beloved Master,

I write to you in this stormy night because of grim event that happened today. I came onto the battlefield too late to save Ildocian army from certain death. Forgive me on my terrible writing, because I do write from the carriage. My departure from the battlefield holds no other meaning, except to warn you that Godless men have fallen. I have no reasons to stay down there, because there is not one Ildocian that draws breath. Snows have already covered their bodies, and Marauders have looted everything that could be lifted. Zarian army celebrates tonight among torches and tents, and tomorrow, the red banners will continue their march towards the black walls of our beloved city. They have cut many heads of Kotadar sons and decorated their spears with it. They place them along the road like poor slaves, while they throw their bodies on piles to burn. This morning I saw two swords stuck into the icy ground with Ildocian skull in helm placed over them. I have come across a few wounded soldiers in camp that talked me through the battle. Fearfully they plead and begged me to run as far as I could, because Zaria is on the move. I have left them to wait for painful death and continued to follow the bloody trails in the snow. Cries came from a far between the trees, while Zarian drums called for charge.  They have left us none of horse-lion to rescue our wounded and transfer the dead. The Devil has waked in them and gave them no sleep until the last… (section needed)… They steeped in blood and illusion that they became unstoppable. Massagers were intercepted by fiery arrows, and reinforcement never came.

A force came down upon us and spilled venomous fear over hart, from the wrath of Zaria, while sky turned black, out of rabid siege contraption fire. Golden banner with green outline in hands of a warlord, which name sounds not familiar, took light hard-shelled camels charge down hill into our flank and broke our army in half. Heavy infantry dripped from the forest side into our left flank, while from the top of the hill, archers rained poisonous arrows towards our charge. They strapped their horse-lions beast in broad shields and steel wire that cut through the Ildocian flesh. They came cutting limbs with sabers to those wounded that laid on the ground, and greeted those that felled back with webs and took them as slaves for gold mines and galleys. Bloodthirsty hunting horned-dog beasts were released in the wood to feast upon drifted deserters while they followed their advance with hasty horse-lions. Our valuable swords are melted into horseshoes they nailed to their horses so they can lose them in disgusting alleys, and from shields they made fences so that camels may scratch on them. In our silver decorated helms, they drop feces and then give them to slaves to eat. Winter doesn’t frighten them nor slowing them in advance, as they made a pact with Gods to defeat us. They stomped the battlefield and accede on our soil so ardently and defiant, like spiting to our face and… (section needed)…, …(section needed)…

Fear drives me to warn you about angry mob of butchers that presses towards our fields, washed with life. They march and sing along the road while war drums eco in the mountain peaks. They will not stop until a red banner doesn’t flutters around the top of your tower, and until our women and daughters end up in adipose boot merchants harems. They will treat our children worse that their horned-dogs and old folks will be tortured for entertainment… (section needed)… They come in vast numbers, and behind them, a great cloud of dust rises, even in this snow. Our villages are set a flame with broken military flags rammed in manure. They even kill fly’s in blood for coming from Ildocian lands, and cattle’s been whipped out with legs tied up, not giving them last freedom as they die. Everything that walks, fly and swim in Ildok is been awaited with a dagger, saber and spear. Only desolation and smoke stacks are left behind them, there, where houses of your loyal subje… (section needed)… dark smokes from the east… (section needed)… searching quarters in mountain caves… (section needed)… Baleful night has fallen tonight and has let me escape falcon-tures that seek sinewy meat and boiling soldier’s blood. They have scouts at every meaningful road and elite guard lurks in every bush.

I beg of you Milord, at these late hours to pray to Kotadar and fortify the city. Prepare men for the force that runs at us and house the beggars. Open your door to poor and open your treasury to merchants, because a long winter under siege awaits us. To every vassal, give a sword in hand to defend the city, and to every woman give a knife to cut hers throat should she save herself from ill destiny of living inside cheap brothel. Children, you send in other cities, forests and mountains, because they will be safer in jaws of the beasts that the hands of Zaria. Save, what can be saved, Zaria is coming.


With respect,


Your faithful servant, Lancer of First Order

Of Honoree Royal Ildocian Guard          

Ser Potos nok Dus                        


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Into the Hell

Someone made a huge mistake leaving me on this God forgotten place. Nice try, but this is nothing, but an obstacle for a veteran, easily crossed with a proper experience. Wounds started to heal, without any sign of infection. Those that were still open, I closed them with red hot knife. I was enjoying this, suffering, struggle, sharp pain in both the legs and arms. They so misjudged me and my capabilities, so now, I’m hoping they are ready for my turn.

Hand shivered holding on a rock, but mind told it to hold tight. Building blew the flames out of the window and alarm wailed in the distance, while they were running. I took two of their men down with me, when the first ignited the bomb. Nobody thought I would survive that, but I did, and I wanted MORE. Lust for blood was strong in me. It lead me to all the right places, bikers bars, riots, darken rooms and hidden spaces. It was the most lit part of my life that I loved so much.

My brothers ran up to me, ready for maneuvering in small streets that were covered with concrete dust. Watbot 23 stood close to me, visor gazing cold at the road where civilians ran for their lives.

– We have a trace on those terrorists. My system is showing 80 % trauma of your bio part of the body.  Sit this one out soldier 42. Your systems show massive surges, it might shut down during the process of pursuit. – he spoke in electronic voice.

– I was made for this. – my sound shivered, following the grind face I fixed on the red blimps in my visor, – Fight is my life, fight is my duty. Death to all that seek destruction.



Picnic Panic

 At the 1 of May, an International Labor Day, my friends and me have decided that, it would be a wonderful to make a picnic in a war zone. War was raging on in the distance, so we had no worries about sudden clash with the “rockies”. We set up two blocks and made fire under them, placed a metal panel that flew off the vehicle, few days past. Michael brought some spam and greens, while Roger fetched us some beer, smuggled it in front of a General Davis who was in patrol.

– I’m gonna end up with the shitiest job after this, and I mean, litteraly a shit, man. – he commented it with a wide smile.

Nearby hill  provided a good shade and sheller from interested eyes of a ranking officers, so we made camp there. Michael smashed the meat over metal, where the scent of it, drew eyes and sniffs of the regular soldiers to the sky in the base. I thought of their faces with a girly giggle, but the Roger shushed me in panic, hiding our presence from them.

Fire grew week, so the Michael automatically went for the bottle, forgetting that inside was a strong spirit. He threw the whole bottle in fire and gave it a wind, slowly bending down and blowing on it, when the plastic broke and its content spilled over flames. Fiery tongues licked his face with a passion, then it rose high, signaling a black smoke to base that something is going on there. We pulled him out of the flames and kicked sandy dirt in his face to shut the fire. He rolled left and right screaming his mother’s milk, when a fire brigade parked on the top of the hill. Michael stood up, his eyebrows burnt off, hair falling from his head like ash, stinking violently on scorched plastic.

We had a long laugh, rolling in the dirt like happy pigs, while his expression was catching breath. His red face and disoriented eyes roamed around the soldiers helping him rise and stand still, when General Davis came in pissed. He slapped him so hard, that his side changed color, then he repeated that onto us. I wasn’t bothered with a slap, as much as that yelling he gave with a broken voice. My heart was racing, fueling the panic thoughts of the punishment, lack of pay, new duties that nobody wanted, isolation. We just nodded and agreed to everything he said to us, then we went to our base to await for the punishment.

What we didn’t know at the time, it was, that the “rocky” scouts were searching for our base, and the smoke gave them our location. Now, I’m laughing at our little get away, and write this from a cave most of my platoon managed to hide in. Damn be the “rockies”.