AlphaZero
Dracula's not an Avenger? That lying fuck!
- Joined
- Aug 4, 2013
Two years Max had been over seas for. Two years of sleeping in ditches and dodging bullets and crapping in a bucket. When he came home he decided he needed some time to breath, so he bought himself a cheap old VW camper van from the 60's and started to drive cross country. The whole idea had seemed perfect. Just the relaxing experience he needed to re-adjust to civilian life.
Hiking down an empty stretch of highway two hours outside of San Antonio had not been part of the plan at all but when the engine of the van up and died wile in the middle of a giant dead spot for cell service he had no choice but to strike out on foot.
Max stood a little over six feet tall and was built much as one would expect an ex-marine to be built, lean, hard muscle with just enough definition to make him pleaent to look at. The t-shirt he had been wearing when he departed had long since been removed and looper through his belt, leaving his toned, tanned chest glistening in the harash afternoon son. With one hand he pushed back the USMC ball cap he wore and whipped the sweat from his brow before pulling it back down over regulation buzz cut and blinked sweat from his stinging grey eyes.
By his estimation he has been walking three, maybe for hours under that scorching sun, "What I wouldn't give for a Sat-Phone right about now...." He muttered, and screwing the cap from the canteen he had filled before departing only to find her had drained it already. He scowled at the empty tin, "Well shit...."
With no other option he trudged onwards hoping that somewhere ahead was a service station on this lonesome stretch of road. It wasn't long before the world began to spin around him and the last thing he remebered was the sound of an engine as the world faded to black.
********
Slowly Max came back to his sense, slowly taking stock of world around him. He was in a bed, too soft to be a hospital bed, and someone had applied a wet cloth to his forehead. He shifted, feeling a thin sheet pressing against exposed skin, whoever had brought him here had stripped him down. His body ached all over and not in the dull, pleasent way either. Slowly he opened his eyes and the world slid into focus.
He was laying in a small bedroom, curtains drawn across a window to his left, casting the room into a cool, comfortable darkrnss.
A fan hung overhead, turnely lazily and creaking with its motions.
Slowly Max sat up, letting out a groan of pain, he was stiff and sore and confused. He pressed a hand against his forehead in an attempt to push down for the pounding headache had. Last thing he remebered was hiking along the highway after his can broke down.
"Ok...So the fuck happened after that....?" He asked outloud to no one in particular, his voice horse and raspy from his dry throat.
Hiking down an empty stretch of highway two hours outside of San Antonio had not been part of the plan at all but when the engine of the van up and died wile in the middle of a giant dead spot for cell service he had no choice but to strike out on foot.
Max stood a little over six feet tall and was built much as one would expect an ex-marine to be built, lean, hard muscle with just enough definition to make him pleaent to look at. The t-shirt he had been wearing when he departed had long since been removed and looper through his belt, leaving his toned, tanned chest glistening in the harash afternoon son. With one hand he pushed back the USMC ball cap he wore and whipped the sweat from his brow before pulling it back down over regulation buzz cut and blinked sweat from his stinging grey eyes.
By his estimation he has been walking three, maybe for hours under that scorching sun, "What I wouldn't give for a Sat-Phone right about now...." He muttered, and screwing the cap from the canteen he had filled before departing only to find her had drained it already. He scowled at the empty tin, "Well shit...."
With no other option he trudged onwards hoping that somewhere ahead was a service station on this lonesome stretch of road. It wasn't long before the world began to spin around him and the last thing he remebered was the sound of an engine as the world faded to black.
********
Slowly Max came back to his sense, slowly taking stock of world around him. He was in a bed, too soft to be a hospital bed, and someone had applied a wet cloth to his forehead. He shifted, feeling a thin sheet pressing against exposed skin, whoever had brought him here had stripped him down. His body ached all over and not in the dull, pleasent way either. Slowly he opened his eyes and the world slid into focus.
He was laying in a small bedroom, curtains drawn across a window to his left, casting the room into a cool, comfortable darkrnss.
A fan hung overhead, turnely lazily and creaking with its motions.
Slowly Max sat up, letting out a groan of pain, he was stiff and sore and confused. He pressed a hand against his forehead in an attempt to push down for the pounding headache had. Last thing he remebered was hiking along the highway after his can broke down.
"Ok...So the fuck happened after that....?" He asked outloud to no one in particular, his voice horse and raspy from his dry throat.