Outpost #9 by Kor Psyke

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SUMMARY: This is a story that I did for a writing class I had but its pretty good... I think.

The sea ran red with the blood of carcasses, with sharks tearing them to shreds. It was the weekly "Dump Off" in which the soldiers guarding Outpost #9 dumped all of their dead comrades into the water. More soldiers were sent in to take their places but the sheer horror of knowing that you and about fifty other soldiers were replacing fifty soldiers that didn't die by other soldiers in a war, but "monsters". Evil creatures lurked about in the shadows and without warning would pounce on unsuspecting victims; usually tearing their heads off, gut them, and then ripping them apart. Most of them have no time to react but occasionally one or two might just barely escape from their deaths, but even if they do escape from the creatures they are haunted by them in their sleep. They wait and plan to escape through Op. #9s mighty wall, many dieing before they had the chance. The outskirts of Op. #9 were guarded by more heavily armed soldiers than inside had only the job of keeping everyone else from passing the walls (which isn't very hard because most of the people trying to escape are crazy, insane, psychotic, etc).
"What was that?" one soldier asked. "EEEEEYYYYYAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!" He heard a screech but as soon as he turned around the creature (a six foot tall hairy human-like creature with a buzz saw grafted on one hand and a giant pincer on the other) pounced and lashed his buzz saw grafted arm into his gut, ripping out organs, blood, and meat and sent them flying in all directions.
"NO, AHHHH!!!" the man screamed his last breath. The monster then used the man's mangled claw arm to grab his neck, squeezing it until it literally burst off.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" a scream came as gunshots roared out. "EEEEYYYAAA!!!" A couple shots made their mark. The beast charged forward at him but a couple more shots stopped him dead in his tracks. He ran forward to see if his friend was still alive.
"Oh man those freaks are gonna pay big for this!" he said. "EEEEYYYYAAA!!!" Another one jumped out from behind a bush and lunged at him. Fthss! A sword came from nowhere and sliced through the beast.
"Are you all right Dask?" the armored person asked.
"Yah, thanks Saraff, but I can't believe that they killed Terr," Those were their nicknames (they didn't have names after they were drafted, it wasn't allowed at Op. 9 unless you were an officer, although some soldiers created names for themselves; most being killed for it) Dask, soldier 10 (who'd been there for ten years now and hadn't met any creature that he didn't kill), Saraff, soldier 1698 (a first year at Op. 9 that didn't have a gun because it was his first year thus all he carried was a short sword), and Terr, soldier 1699 (Terr was a fairly short person who was usually their scout). Now Terr was dead. "EEEEEEYYYYYYYAAAA!!!" Another creature jumped out and lunged toward Dask with its bladed hand extended forward. "NO!" "EEYYAA!!!" Saraff stabbed through the beast.
"Saraff! Why?"
"Couldn't let you die man," His voice cut out and his head dropped.
"Oh no," Dask ran over to him.

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