Tsuchinoko

Green Mountain? I remember my trip to Green Mountain... It was early in the morning, foggy. The low light conditions made it easier to sidle passed the hordes, but the mist did weird things to sound. The mutters and moans of the nearby zeds sounded strangely muffled; though I could see their ghostly silhouettes through the fog they sounded half a mile away, so I had to take it slow. And there were other noises below the usual ambiance, metallic clatterings and footfalls that had to be nearby, though no source could I determine. Ignoring these oddities I winded my way up toward the radio tower, cradling my Lee Enfield at the ready but not daring to ring the dinner bell amidst all that mist. At last I reached the radio tower and took a moment to stare up at the colossal structure, vanishing into the fog above me. I'd mostly come just to check the place out, but now that I was there figured it couldn't hurt to check the loot spawns, so I did a quick circuit of the two loot piles. There was nothing at the first but a pile of scrap, too cumbersome to bother with... But at the second, buried amongst the usual pile of trash was a single can of Mountain Dew. I must admit a chill went down my spine but I reminded myself that the rumor was only that; a rumor, and stuffed the can into pack. As I did and turned to go I heard a sound reverberating through the fog, a sound like tin cans shifting, back the way I came. At that moment I felt like an adrenaline shot went through me and I turned and began to run, staggering through the mist. As I reached the treeline I heard the most deafening sound I could have ever imagined, almost as right behind me. And suddenly I was on the ground, bleeding profusely. I heard a second report and the ground exploded next to my head and as I gazed into the mist I saw a flash from on high. A sniper on the tower, though he might as well have been a world away for all I could do in that cursed fog. But as I lay there waiting for him to mark me I happened to glance at my readout and was surprised to see my thirst had reached critical levels, despite it being green only moments before. With a shrug I figured 'what the hell' and cracked the green can of soda, downing it all so that I at least wouldn't die thirsty. And as I tossed the can away I heard it bounce, right next to my head, crisp and clear as anything. For a moment the fog parted. For a moment I caught a clear glimpse of the tower, and the silhouette on top. Raising my Lee Enfield I fired once and saw it crumple to the ground. I fired again. And again, until the fog rolled in again and my rifle was empty. Then I died. Sometimes I lay awake at night, wondering. Was it the curse of the Mountain Dew that drew the sniper down on me? Or was it in fact an agent of my vengeance, clearing the fog long enough so I might die at peace? I still don't know to this day. But even now when I play, whether rolling through Elektro with an AK-74 or trying to get my hands on a fire axe after a respawn I still keep every can of Mountain Dew I come across, no matter what I have to drop to hold on to it. And I only drink it when absolutely necessary.

First post and first story... I was playing on an inverse-time server earlier this afternoon. There were only about seven other people on the server and as I was starving to death at the time I decided to try and make the best of the low player count to scavenge some food in some of the more dangerous locations. So it was that I ended up at Balota military camp with nothing but an AK 74, a handful of magazines for said rifle and several tonnes of assorted chemlights and flares. I proceeded to scatter flares and glowsticks all about the place for visibility so I wouldn't need to constantly switch out my flashlight as I raided the four deer stands in the corners, despite the fact that I had heard gunfire from the airstrip to the North. I was down to about five-thousand blood when I arrived and began to run from one stand to another and through the medical pavilions, dropping every zed I encountered in a last-ditch effort to find food, but had no luck. Despairing, I picked up a chemlight, hopped a breach in the fence and made a beeline for the airfield. By this time my blood count had hit approximately 2900 and my vision was less than optimal. I reached the airfield without incident however and was surprised to find the place clear of zombies and the hangers empty of loot. Making my way over to the tower I was even more surprised to find the entrance barricaded by no less than three wire barriers. With my hope -and blood- fading fast I shambled around to the ladder and found it clear so I quickly ascended to the top, only to come face-to-face with a man holding a flashlight. I greeted the man pleasantly and tentatively explained my predicament. He responded by telling me all he had was his flashlight but if I could eat it I was welcome to it. I laughed and looked at my blood count, by this time around 2200 and figured I was pretty much pining for the fjords. With not much else to do I turned to the stranger and asked if he wanted my AK, as I would soon have no use for it and didn't want it to go to waste. He asked if I was sure and I assured him I was going to drop any minute, so I dropped the weapon to the floor with all its ammunition. He picked it up and asked if I wanted him to take it and go look downstairs for food. I laughed and said there was no need: I had my faithful chemlight for protection. With that I made my way down the stairs but stopped abruptly at the bottom where I came upon three corpses. The first thought that came into my mind was that he'd killed them, but then I realized if he had he likely would have shot me as well either before or immediately after I'd given him my rifle. I looked the bodies over, seeing food, soda and a myriad of other supplies and called up what I had found. The stranger told me that they were actually the bodies of his group, who had been gunned down not long before. I asked if I could take a few supplies as he came down to join me and he assented. As I helped myself to a piece of cooked meat, a can of Mountain Dew, a new rifle and a larger backpack, a third person arrived. After a moment of apprehension on my part the first stranger explained to me that the new arrival was a friend of his and explained to his partner my position. Greetings and promises not to shoot one another were made all around and one of the two even administered a bloodpack to bring me back to normal condition. With the pleasantries dispensed I asked if they wanted any of their supplies back before I headed out and the first stranger told me that because I was willing to give up my gun to someone without one when I thought I was going to die I was welcome to all the supplies I had, save for the last bloodpack. After expressing my gratitude and wishing the two good fortune in their endeavors I made my way back up the stairs and down the ladder and continued on my journey Northward, with a little faith in humanity restored.