please do not come to my page being weird about Aaron and his personal life while I begin to post work for him. I find a lot of what’s going on (demeaning him and who he is or was with) very disgusting and I am adamant on keeping this a positive space for him and creativity, not childish behaviors regarding his buisness that rightfully isn’t mine to dissect or feel ownership over. I’ve been a fan of him and other people in his space individually for years, this page is not meant to foster any negativity towards him and those he’s around. If that or who I choose as faceclaims brothers you, this may be your sign to exit. I’m excited to get back into the saddle and I hope to see some of you soon, peace
On the cusp of a new year, the world of former marine Terrance James Richmond is turned upside down - confronting a ghost of his past that is haunting more than his psyche; what was a coveted secret of his past in the corp, now a threat to the deteriorating wellbeing of not only himself, but of the entire world as he knows it.
this is a concept I shared and promised @nahimjustfeelingit-writes many many moons ago, I hope I’m not too late for Spooktober forgive my tiny brain. also was deeply inspired by @avoidthings and @grlsbstshot continuous creativity and whackings for my tendency to avoid Word LMAO - Star
In the desolate winding backroads of Redwick only a few homes, spread dozens of miles apart, were still lit. The clock was inching closer to one in the morning and out of everyone still awake, Terrance was the most disturbed by far. It’d been an awfully unnerving day for him, as today was the anniversary of the mass casualty event that ended his time in the corp merely two years prior.
Until this waking hour, the former Marine hadn’t thought about its significance (by forcible, personal choice). He’d sworn it off from his peripheral to the best of his ability, actually listening to his therapist and taking his prescribed medications - even if it meant overmedicating with things that weren’t. Yet, here he was in his over worn kitchen whiteknuckling his gun, heart beating through his ears as he came face to face with three figures at his front door.
One of them he was more than familiar with.
General Darlene Cross.
It was more or less the same feeling he held in his first close call in combat, a 7.62 round clipping his exposed ear beneath his helmet and sending him to what he thought for certain was the afterlife. Shock, regret, and the most potent emotion of all - fear. Not fear that life was over, but of what was going to become of it once he came to. Coincidentally, it was the exact same feeling he had the last time he saw General Cross - a day he promised he’d never return to again as long as he lived.
Too bad she didn’t believe in promises, and damn sure not ones from her most proficient jarheads. And besides, this matter was beyond him, it was beyond everyone he knew in this microscopic town.
Worst of all, it was teetering beyond the entire state of America.
That’s why instead of quick drawing and putting them down like dogs through the flimsy door like they all were aware he was capable of, Terrance stood militant, doing nothing as the general and her security detail let themselves in - courtesy of the spare he’d hidden in a flower pot on the windowsill. Just like he’d done many times in his barracks he avoided eye contact until it was given to him, those searing deep brown eyes holding absolutely nothing in them as they greeted his own.
“Richmond,” General Cross began, “my apologies for barging in at such an inconvenient time. Forgive me?”
He said nothing, forcing himself to breathe and slowly drop his firearm to his side holster.
“Good. Take a seat Mr. Richmond. There’s something we need to discuss.”
Terrance simply nodded. Following instruction as he was taught, he took a seat at the rickety wood table before them. For a second he couldn’t help but to gaze at the hardware her security was toting, matching M16’s in corp standard finish. Still he averted his attention to the matter at hand with the most self restraint he could’ve mustered being half sober.
“I won't be long. As of 1500 hours ago, the state of affairs in the new southern border have crumbled beyond repair. We are - without being hyperbolic - in dire need of internal intervention-“
“And how the fuck do I fit into that?” Terrance interjected. It came out of his mouth faster than his brain could register for him to clamp it
She was quick to spit back at him, “Let me finish, Richmond…remember the time we spoke. In the hospital”
The headache forming behind his eyes began to pound with a fury. Of course he did, he thought about it every single night before he drowned himself in Percocets and cheap brown liquor to forget it.
“I passed you a message from my superiors. Do you recall that Richmond?”
“…yeah. Yes ma’am I do.”
“Right. And I also told you that if this were to touch US soil in any capacity, you would either be a leader or a state owned lab rat - you picking up my drift here?”
Again a nod, this one more somber, yet more alert.
“Right now, I’m giving you a chance to do more with your life. As far as I could see from just a few months' close observation, you are entirely adamant on killing yourself before you face up to the boogeyman that was your last mission. Your noncompliance to cooperating in this upcoming operation hinges on whether you can continue wasting away in what you call a life…or my superiors snuffing you out to keep this quiet like we both know they’ll do.”
Now it all made sense - the unshakeable feeling he was being watched for the last few weeks. That the things he routinely obsessed over being in place were moved. No matter how hard he tried to sleep at night, Terrance still could feel the sinking feeling of not truly being alone.
“Now, let’s rip this bandaid off shall we? There was no ‘homegrown environmental’ incident that shut down the borders to the southern states in October. It seems that the virus that you and your team were exposed to in Baghdad was found on a compound rural in Alabama. One family of seven was infected while three neighbors were able to escape the carnage unharmed. They are what we now know are asymptomatic carriers, and in their attempts to flee into a more populated society for help - they created ground zero. In the span of four months, every state from the Texas to Tennessee border has gone dark. All we know now is that there is a high probability this will jump the militarized border that all sectors of the armed forces have set in place, and the only people that can help us are the survivors in the red zone that have succeeded in keeping it back…and you. Only one of two documented survivors of the VK-virus that are, by all intents and purposes, immune after physical exposure. There’s a plane leaving in two hours to the outskirts of our war room, there you’ll be moving into our state monitored living quarters and will be attending your first debriefing of the current situation."
For once, Terrance had nothing to say. No quips back. No attempts to harm the people in front of him. The only thing he could do was nod, force back saliva that so badly wanted to spew out of him, and submit. His bloodshot eyes followed her slacks as she headed back out the front door. Prompt as she promised.
Before being escorted out of his home she spoke to him in a more looser, personal tone, “Don’t fuck this up Terry. I’m going out on a limb for you. Sober the fuck up for the next hour, pack your shit, and I’ll find a way to get you enough dope to keep you afloat during your time with us.” she then scoffed lightly, “you go cold turkey you just might fuck this for us both. Let’s not rehash the past, alright?”
With that and the slow stampede of boots she and her entourage were gone into the country night.
The clock began its grueling tick now. Terrance Richmond was back in the corp, and both his traumatic exposure and immunity to VK would be the one thing that kept him alive.
