Dark Angel
Mar 2nd, 2002, 03:56 PM
Wolf In The Snow
The crosshairs swept through the snow storm, settling on the door to the south a few feet in front of her. The wind blew across, bringing the sounds of her howling wolves to her ears. The sound bought comfort and steadied her nerves. She was never nervous before a battle but this time she had allowed herself to become susceptible to her feelings.
Sniper Wolf had heard the explosion of the Hind D at the top of the communication towers to the south not long before, and knew that he would be here soon. Not long. Liquid’s parachute had descended to the left of her, but she blocked it out of her mind. Wolf’s previous loss at the underground passage had left her bitter and wanting revenge. Solid Snake. The Legend. The name felt sour in her mouth, but she found herself fascinated by him. Their previous battle had let her learn his techniques; she would not be beaten again. It was her vow as a Kurd, and her honour as a wolf. Her prey would now be allowed to get away.
Wolf slowly moved the sight, waiting, just waiting for her prey to show itself. The PSG-1 was rested on the snow. She was lying down alongside it, still. Wolf had hidden herself behind a small snow covered ledge, positioned to hide herself from the door’s view, yet not obscure her aim. The coldness of the snow bit at her body, yet she felt nothing. She kept her eye pressing to the scope, aiming the crosshairs slightly to the right of the door, as to not let the laser sight be shown directly to anyone coming through. The wind swept across again. Wolf let herself watch the snowflakes blow across the ground, rising with the heat and wind pockets. The howling of the wind and whining of the wolves filled her ears, becoming all she heard. Wolf allowed her attention to slip slightly as to load the rifle with a six bullet magazine of 7.62 calibre. She slit the bolt across and reached into her pocket. The pills slid into her mouth, where she swallowed them in one go. Quickly, yet smoothly, as not to ruin her aim, she replaced her hand under the chamber of the rifle.
Still waiting. She found herself thinking back to her childhood in Iraq. She closed her eyes, her other senses still tuned to the snowfield, keeping her alert. Her mind took her back to a place as a child, remembering the faces of her parents as they were taken from her, the gas burning their lungs as they breathed it in, the pain as they died. She had been born on the battlefield and had always had to fight to survive. Hussein’s attacks had left thousands dead, and Wolf as a refugee. The government’s of the world had ignored the plea of the Kurd’s, her own people. She fled for her life to the refugee camps on the Iraqi borders. There he had met her salvation, Saladin. He had taken her to the US, the so-called "land of the free". But Wolf could never be free from the burdens she had to bear, and the things she had to endure during the Gulf War. The sounds of gunshots and screams filled her memories. The flashes of blood and the stench of death came rushing back to her. She whipped her eyes open again and the images faded. Her mind was shaken, and she forced it to stay focussed. Her past was gone, there was no changing it and regret would only affect her ability to fight. She reasserted her mental composure and focussed at the world through her scope. Her whole life had been led through a sniper rifle, the horrors she had inflicted had all been done through the scope, as an observer of the battlefield, involved and engaged in the death she was causing.
The door slid open. Wolf remained still, letting her scope be her eyes. Snake walked forward into the bitter snow. He looked around and peered into the blinding snow ahead of him. The wind and snow covered Wolf’s position completely. She watched him, the way he moved. He looked worn from the fight with Liquid in the Hind, but she would exert no sympathy or remorse on him. He was her prey, and a wolf never misses it’s prey. She gradually moved the crosshairs over him, her breathing, slow and controlled. Her heartbeat was minimal due to the diazepam, allowing her perfect aim. He took out his binoculars and scanned the horizon, Wolf felt no fear, she was hidden well from his view. She slowly moved her hand down the bullet chamber and rested it in the trigger cradle. The laser slowly moved down Snake’s body, he was focussed on the ground ahead. He would never know what happened. A sniper’s job was to wait, to see their target through the scope of the rifle. Wolf placed her forefinger on the trigger. Goodbye Snake, my prey, you have fallen at the hand of the wolf, she said quietly. She squeezed the trigger.
The crosshairs swept through the snow storm, settling on the door to the south a few feet in front of her. The wind blew across, bringing the sounds of her howling wolves to her ears. The sound bought comfort and steadied her nerves. She was never nervous before a battle but this time she had allowed herself to become susceptible to her feelings.
Sniper Wolf had heard the explosion of the Hind D at the top of the communication towers to the south not long before, and knew that he would be here soon. Not long. Liquid’s parachute had descended to the left of her, but she blocked it out of her mind. Wolf’s previous loss at the underground passage had left her bitter and wanting revenge. Solid Snake. The Legend. The name felt sour in her mouth, but she found herself fascinated by him. Their previous battle had let her learn his techniques; she would not be beaten again. It was her vow as a Kurd, and her honour as a wolf. Her prey would now be allowed to get away.
Wolf slowly moved the sight, waiting, just waiting for her prey to show itself. The PSG-1 was rested on the snow. She was lying down alongside it, still. Wolf had hidden herself behind a small snow covered ledge, positioned to hide herself from the door’s view, yet not obscure her aim. The coldness of the snow bit at her body, yet she felt nothing. She kept her eye pressing to the scope, aiming the crosshairs slightly to the right of the door, as to not let the laser sight be shown directly to anyone coming through. The wind swept across again. Wolf let herself watch the snowflakes blow across the ground, rising with the heat and wind pockets. The howling of the wind and whining of the wolves filled her ears, becoming all she heard. Wolf allowed her attention to slip slightly as to load the rifle with a six bullet magazine of 7.62 calibre. She slit the bolt across and reached into her pocket. The pills slid into her mouth, where she swallowed them in one go. Quickly, yet smoothly, as not to ruin her aim, she replaced her hand under the chamber of the rifle.
Still waiting. She found herself thinking back to her childhood in Iraq. She closed her eyes, her other senses still tuned to the snowfield, keeping her alert. Her mind took her back to a place as a child, remembering the faces of her parents as they were taken from her, the gas burning their lungs as they breathed it in, the pain as they died. She had been born on the battlefield and had always had to fight to survive. Hussein’s attacks had left thousands dead, and Wolf as a refugee. The government’s of the world had ignored the plea of the Kurd’s, her own people. She fled for her life to the refugee camps on the Iraqi borders. There he had met her salvation, Saladin. He had taken her to the US, the so-called "land of the free". But Wolf could never be free from the burdens she had to bear, and the things she had to endure during the Gulf War. The sounds of gunshots and screams filled her memories. The flashes of blood and the stench of death came rushing back to her. She whipped her eyes open again and the images faded. Her mind was shaken, and she forced it to stay focussed. Her past was gone, there was no changing it and regret would only affect her ability to fight. She reasserted her mental composure and focussed at the world through her scope. Her whole life had been led through a sniper rifle, the horrors she had inflicted had all been done through the scope, as an observer of the battlefield, involved and engaged in the death she was causing.
The door slid open. Wolf remained still, letting her scope be her eyes. Snake walked forward into the bitter snow. He looked around and peered into the blinding snow ahead of him. The wind and snow covered Wolf’s position completely. She watched him, the way he moved. He looked worn from the fight with Liquid in the Hind, but she would exert no sympathy or remorse on him. He was her prey, and a wolf never misses it’s prey. She gradually moved the crosshairs over him, her breathing, slow and controlled. Her heartbeat was minimal due to the diazepam, allowing her perfect aim. He took out his binoculars and scanned the horizon, Wolf felt no fear, she was hidden well from his view. She slowly moved her hand down the bullet chamber and rested it in the trigger cradle. The laser slowly moved down Snake’s body, he was focussed on the ground ahead. He would never know what happened. A sniper’s job was to wait, to see their target through the scope of the rifle. Wolf placed her forefinger on the trigger. Goodbye Snake, my prey, you have fallen at the hand of the wolf, she said quietly. She squeezed the trigger.