Half-Life: BlackMesa

Half life fan-fiction - Still under heavy writing :) Will update blurb when finished!


1. School [PartOne]

Gordon’s hand fell onto a mesh of shattered glass. If it wasn’t for his padded silk gloves, his hand would have been paralysed. He continued to crawl across the school hallway. Left hand, right hand constantly as he struggled to move through the rotting school books and overgrown weeds.
He pulled himself up against a steel locker that was duplicated from one end of the hallway to the other. Shuffling into the scratched locker, backwards, he sat with both legs hanging out of the door. Gently resting his head, neck facing upwards, on the back of the locker. He noticed a head crab had made an opening on the side of the locker. Gordon reached up and used the opening to pull himself up. Falling 4 floors made his legs temporarily un-mobile. He had to hide himself while his Hazardous Environmental suit’s morphine administrator kicked in.
Slowly the effects of the morphine started, and Gordon was able to stand in the locker, as long as he could continue leaning on his left arm, which was the only limb not effected by the drop. The morphine indicator bleeped on his HEV suit, letting him know that his morphine levels where incredibly high, but still he could feel the suit pump more and more into his body.
He had to wait for backup. There was no way he was in the right mental condition to fight the horde of Antlion Grubs. The caterpillar like creatures had been chasing Gordon throughout the school as he retrieved the IRSD PDA (Internet Relay and Significant Data). It contained information about a government’s portal device, which would allow safe travel through altering places in the universe. Gordon once ventured through these wormholes at the start of the war. The black mesa project seemed to be a massive failure, but after what Gordon has been through, he has started his own conspiracies.

Gunshots echoed throughout the hallway, shaking the decaying walls. Gordon was getting concerned about how much more the building could take. But he was far too concerned about the where about of his rescue team that he requested 2 hours ago. Hopefully, that was them defending themselves against the horde of Grubs. But then the worst happened. A long, mid-pitched tone filled the school. It was what cold would sound like. It was the death of a combine unit. And judging by the hart monitor, it was a metro squadron. What was civil protection doing at Halfbrek? He thought to himself. It didn’t make any sense. If the combine where here, then surly it would be for the IRSD, but they would send in much heavier units then metro police.
“Command, target Golf-Felt 12 has not been located”, a female voice, changed by an obvious combine helmet. Shit! Assassins! Gordon had just about been recovered, but the self-knowledge that a possible team of Combine Assassins where in a nearby location worried him.
“Unit-4, please state the location of the IRSD device”, replied the combine command, cowardly sitting in a protected building far away from any real danger. Gordon looked down at his right thigh and opened the weapon holder. Inside was the IRSD, still in one peace. As long as the device was offline, his hiding position should be safe.
“IRSD is missing command”, stated the Assassin, “Permission to sweep the area”. Gordon became aware that he had to get out of the building. If the carbine command proceeded with the sweep, then it would not take long for the Assassins to locate him.
“Information from sector, unit-4, proceed with party drones”, the communications device was then cut from the assassin, as Gordon listed to the sound of 3 search drones where activated.

Scouting the area, the Assassin kept a close eye on her arm device. It displayed three cameras, each an eye of what the drones could see. A collapsed wooden door stopped her from advancing to the staircase.  Using all her strength, she kicked the door, creating an opening in which she could squeeze through. A bright ray of light, which duplicated through the cracked glass, interfered with her eye site. Falling down the stairs, she broke both of her legs. Usually, the morphine administrator in her suit would activate, just like the HEV, but she was using the Mark 2 Assassin suit, which carried less computer technology so she would be able to run fast and be less detectable. In pain, she looked at her wrist, and discovered that her arm PDA was broken. She had no-visual or communication with command or the drones. She was alone.

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