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The atmosphere was a thick, black smoke that reeked of rotting flesh and dieing souls, and the lives of loved ones had been taken in an instant. Tall ruins of buildings that once homed many, enclosed the land around him, and the dirt under his boots had been turned to a pale gray by worn gun powder and dried blood.
He ran for cover as thousands of speeding ammunition stormed upon him, knowing that only a few shots with a plasma bullet meant the end of his life. He than slammed against a rock and knelt there to rest and reload, while the ringing from multiple explosions filled his ears. It rang at such a high frequency that almost every sound was smothered, just the slight utter of commands being given could be heard.
Once he reloaded, he quickly stood up from his cover and rained upon his opponents. His weapon bounced as he pulled the trigger multiple times, hitting two of his enemies through the head and one through the middle torso. He fired the rest of his rounds and then quickly ducked for cover and reloaded behind his rock, as bits of his shelter where being torn off by the continuous fire of bullets from his enemies.
Finally, they reloaded, and he quickly jumped over his rock and shot the rest of them down, sprays of there blood splattered the walls and floors. He jumped for more cover, just in case of a secret attack, and reloaded his gun; he snapped the empty cartage off the bottom of his gun, but just as he reached in his pocket for a new one, an unknown weapon fired a hole in the wall right next to his face. He jumped in surprise and his ammo fell to the ground, his heart stopped in terror. He scrambled at the floor for his only hope for survival, and jumped to the other side of the wall the second his hand touched the cold metal of his ammunition cartridge.
He had plenty of time to shoot me down, he thought. Someone had missed him on purpose to get his attention.
He peered out of his hiding spot towards the sound of the gunshot to find a figure standing there with his weapon still in the air from the intentional miss fire.
The figure had long thick, vanilla-white hair that swayed above its head, synchronized with the breeze. It glared at him with murderous intent, its white eyes emphasizing its hatred towards him as they stared him down. Its face was not scratched by war nor darkened by ash; it just glowed with no sign of pity or remorse, even for the thousands the monster had killed. A dark aura surrounded the individual, showing the true nature of the creature. He shook as he stared down the barrel of its weapon.
Time now stopped. No longer was there the song of war; no gunshots, no explosions, no ringing, no men (shouting orders they where given by someone of a higher rank) only the sound of his own heart could heard. He could barely see the monster, about ten yards from his shelter, because his vision was blurred by smoke and tears.
He concentrated on the white blob on the horizon and quickly jumped out of his shelter and fired a sloppy round of bullets towards it in the hopeless attempt to drive the creature away, but just as the bullets where about to hit the monster, they stopped dead in there tracks, ignoring gravity. A small concussion wave from the figure, bounced the bullets back towards him, denting his armor. Dust was now airborne thanks to the monsters wave.
He swatted at the air in an attempt to clear his vision, but just as the dust settled, the horrid face of the creature was his only sight, all else was black (like some kind of trance), yet he felt the cold barrel of a gun resting on his right arm. He screamed in pain as he felt the hot plasma pass through his upper arm, just above his bicep, the figure smiled at the irony.
The pain relived him of his trance and he could now see more than just the monsters face, so he ran the second he thought the monster was preoccupied with its achievement. His arm was now partially numb, he couldn’t feel the out side of the arm if he touched it, but on the inside it burned as if the monster had placed a glowing hot sheet of metal inside his arm. With the plasma eating his cells like a cancer on steroids, he knew that the arm would have to be cut off very soon, or the plasma will spread.
He was zigzagging through ruins so that the monster couldn’t get a clear shot, the pale sand was uneven and caused his defective arm to uncontrollably swinging in the air. He heard three quick shots from the monsters weapon, now about twenty yards away, he than heard them whistling through the air towards his general direction. He was still running when he felt the bullets puncture his upper right shoulder; one on the top where his shoulder met his collarbone, one in the middle where it was soft from less tissue, and one at the bottom right above the arm pit. He dropped to the ground and screamed in pain, yet his shoulder did not burn.
He didn’t use plasma for those shots, He thought, He doesn’t want me dead just yet.
He gasped for air and than caught a glimpse of a boot right in front of him, it bore the symbol of his army. “Thank God, I’m saved!” he said to the soldier with pain in his voice, but the soldier did not answer, it just reached down and grabbed his injured arm with a powerful grip. He knew what was going to happen next and closed his eyes shut to endure the pain, than screamed as his arm was slowly and brutally pulled away from his body, using the line of bullets as a sort of a support cut, than herd the thump of it hitting the ground and being disposed of, his eyes where still closed.
He than felt the same bloody hand that had yanked his arm off, lift his chin, pointing his face towards the owner of the hands white eyes. “Don’t want you dieing now, do we?” It said with a voice that sounded like more that one person speaking at once, yet the background of the voice was unmistakable, and unfortunately the irony was also unmistakable.
“No... It, it can’t be,” he said recognizing the voice of someone that was close to him. The barrel of its gun now rested at his heart, and he knew now that he was going to die. His loved one’s faces flashed before his eyes. He was gasping for air, but his dented black armor did not permit his lungs to reach its full capacity.
“Too bad you don’t get to look at someone you love in eyes before you die” The figure said. He shook his head and pleaded the monster to spare his life, the wind was beating against his face, and the pale sand was about to gain some color.
“...please ...don’t-” CRACK!!!

I think this is in the wrong forum. Anywho, we will be turning this guild into a private one on Tuesday. You can look, but you can't post starting that day unless you join the guild. It doesn't cost much 10g, and all we need is a sample paragraph. Lengths depends on which one you're applying as, beta or gamma.

If this isn't an original story, please IM me. I couldn't tell if it was fan fiction or an original.