Fantasy Stories From a Realist's Point of View. [Requests]

Well, my favorite thing of all is when people manage to take things which are completely false, unreal and fantasy and put a realistic spin on it. For example, Max Brook's 'Zombie Survival Guide' and 'World War Z' or Stuart's 'Armageddon?'

In Max Brooks books, he manages to look at zombies as a realistic thread. Make an explanation of what they're, why they do the things they do and how to stop them. He continues to build on this by making a story based on their existence. On Struart's 'Armageddon?' he manages to make the concept of Hell invading the Earth realistic, by looking at what we 'know' about hell and those who live in it, their culture, motive and way of warfare and then builds a story on what would happen if our worlds collided.

I want to make a series of short-stories (Preferably from a Military Side of things) that take our current, modern world and pits it against other universes and situations. This world could be from Books, Movies, Videos games and TV Shows but are not limited by them.

So go ahead and request a universe. Perhaps a way that our worlds somehow 'collide' and I'll do my best to write a short story, or a serious of small chapters concerning them.

Sounds like an awesome idea, I'd like to see a werewolf invasion from a military point of view, but a suggestion that i recon would be a challenge that if done properly might actually be very good, like, some sort of really childish thing made serious, like pokemon or something.

I suppose I could do werewolf's although I hate the entire genre of Werewolf/Vampire. But I'll do that.

Not sure what motive Werewolf's would have for declaring war on the Human Race. Or if it's a strictly regional thing, I assume I'll do this in a manner that will be much like that of the American Indian Wars.

Alright, this is what I've got. If you like it, or if it's not completely terrible I can continue. The story will move from different perspectives through a timeline. Vampires and Werewolf's aren't really my thing. I don't find them very interesting like alot of people, but I tried.




Boulder Flats, Wyoming.

Boulder Flats was a small town in every sense of the word small. Population of 381, rural and of no importance to anyone but a handful of farmers and Native American Casino’s. Tyler Harrison was born out in these back woods, he knew the local roads and he knew his way in and out of the woods. He joined the Wyoming Highway Patrol back when it didn’t take a College Education to get into Law Enforcement, only a sense of patriotism and community. Tyler was getting older, he was nearing 50 and his hair already beginning to gray although the reason for this escaped him, this wasn’t a very stressful job. The next town over had begun to see a spike in missing persons cases, usually taken forcefully during the night or simply missing after what appeared to be a run to get the morning paper, Boulder Flats solution to the problem was more patrols, that meant more overtime. Most homes in the area are very spread out, average response time for a officer went from 28 minutes for someone who was say, in town to nearly an hour for some of the far out residences.

The Ford Crown Victoria was the standard for most American Law Enforcement agencies, from the FBI all the way down to little old Tyler. It took the turns of the old Ray Lake Road and it’s neglected country pavement about as well as any car, it made for an uncomfortable ride and ontop of that it was a boring one since budgeting decided that the buddy system was a simple write off. He took a moment to yawn, when his eyes returned to the road he noticed something in the middle of the road, his first thought was ‘deer’ but as he drew closer he pressed the brake and the car slowed, he put it in park and quickly got out of his car, the headlights shining on the pale lump strewn across the road. He neglected to follow his training and call it, instead rushing to the side of it. It was hard to tell at first, but after a moment he could tell it was a women, a naked one at that. Tyler knelt next to her and put a finger on her neck, it was cold and dead as a nail. She was dead, from what he could gather a long time as he was only now starting to notice the smell. He flipped her over onto her back and reeled back as blank eyes looked up at him, a large gash cut down her stomach, what was left of her intestines hanging from it, brown dried blood running down her stomach and across her chest. Putting a arm to his mouth as he stood and taking a few steps back before regaining his composure.
Officer Harrison had seen a lot of things in his now 18 years of service to the State. A lot of things happened in the country, things that went unnoticed for a long, long time and he’d had to bare a lot of it, this was pretty bad but not the worse so it didn’t take him long to shake his head and reach for his radio. He was laying on the ground, he blinked and saw the black tires of his Patrol Car sitting atop the broken pavement, he blinked again, his cheek was burning, no, it was bleeding. Tyler put his arms on the ground and attempted to push himself up only to feel himself lift from the ground violently.

This time he was barely aware that he was thrown sideways, looking up he saw the badge on the driver side door of his car, blood strewn across it, he was laying on his side, he began to cough violently. He closed his eyes and opened them again, a pair of hairy legs stood in front of him, barely visible in the light emitting from the car’s lights. He nearly asked him for help, but quickly realized that this was the same man that had attacked him. He pushed himself up, sitting on his bottom now and frantically reaching into his holster for his M9 Service Pistol. His fingers found the cold metal and plastic grip as he draws and thrusts it in front of himself. The man was still there, but it was more like creature. It was covered in thick brown fur and vaguely human-like. He squeezed the trigger twice at it, both shots found home and the creature barely recoiled only snarled in response. Something of a grin creased it’s Snout-like mouth. Tyler never got a chance to fire another shot before he was decapitated by the other creature which had climbed onto the hood, using a large bony claw to slice his neck open.

Exellent, and just a quick note, I mean werewolves when they were cool, not when twilighted f*cked them over. but YAY you did the cool werewolves. anyway, if your doing a short story, you need to but alot less work into the detail of the character, and much more into the story itself, but still exellent.

These will become more varied, from different points of view as they continue. Next one will be done from the werewolf perspective of things, if I decide to write it. It's really hard to find a objective to them starting a war. Apparently they've had to lived among us, most likely hidden because their human form isn't what we call 'normal' and evidently they've managed to stay hidden, reproduce and live comfortably for years. Right now I assume it's over territory.

I may stop though, this isn't really my thing, werewolves, and I feel my writing is boring and uninteresting. Or just generally bad.



Boulder Flats Sheriff’s Office, Boulder Flats, Wyoming.

“They found another one, Ford Expedition overturned in a ditch on the side of Ridge Road, blood streaked across the interior, onto the hood and into the woods. This is getting scary, Joseph.”
Said the young Patrol Officer standing in front of a large cork board, a map of Boulder Flats and the surrounding area pinned to it with small red push-pins along roads and a few buildings. Sheriff Joseph McCathy stood next to him as he ran back and forth from the phone and radio operator back to the board. For the past three days they’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to find the same scenes of carnage only to come up empty handed and have to write out a dozen reports each morning. It started just outside of Fort Washakie and started moving toward them, the first night it was 8 people, the second it was 16 and last night it was 28. Obviously something wasn’t right.
“What do you think it is? Crazed Murderer in the woods? A Cult?”
The Patrol Officer continued on, putting another red push-pin on Ray Lake Road.
“Maybe. Tyler‘s Dash Cam is what really bothers me” Joseph said as he watched the board as each new and old case was put into the board, not to mention the countless yet to be reported. He began to notice a pattern, that all the homes were being attacked in a circle heading toward the town. The vehicles that had been attacked appeared to be ambushes along choke points heading in and out of town.
“Call up Washakie and ask to spare some men, Dubois too, we need to see if they’ll lend us their chopper. Tell Cheyenne what’s happening and see if they’ll help us out.”
He told them, buttoning his coat and putting on his Stetson hat as he headed out the door.

Five hours later they were just outside of town, starting to move north toward Washakie. A long line of people in orange and yellow vests, some of them handed out from the Sheriff’s office and others simply hunting jackets. It was about 40 people in all, a collection of Highway Patrol from Boulder and the neighboring towns, a handful of hunters and volunteers and a few fire fighters and a dog or two. They proceeded in a long line, all within sight of each other. They were looking for the nine bodies that hadn’t been left at the scene of the attacks, which at this point they assumed were missing. Joseph looked up as a loud thumping noise flew over his head, the white underbelly of a Bell 412 Helicopter flying past him and continuing on. The woods around here were largely unexplored, there was no reason for anyone to come this far to go camping when they could do it in their own backyard, the Natives didn't live in these woods even before they were killed off.
“Over here!” Someone shouted, their voice breaking. Joseph and a few others broke the line and dashed toward his voice. They all came upon a small clearing in the foliage and fallen leafs, a burnt out campfire with sticks around it, all atop them were freshly decapitated skulls. Jacob Lewis, Joseph’s Deputy ran next to him and stared at one of them, a look of disgust and shock across his face.
“It’s Tyler..”
He said quietly, he looked and sure enough, pale and with a dead stare was Tyler Harrison’s head on the pole, they had found him the other night, or most of him atleast laying against his patrol car without a head and had wondered where it went.

Joseph didn’t notice his mouth was hanging open at first, the moment he did he closed it. He started to walk toward them when there was a commotion. Everyone turned to see two men in orange hunting jackets laying ontop of their rifles, arrows jutting from their backs. Not the modern ones either, these looked like the real thing at first glance. Joseph dropped the metal pole he was using the prod the ground and reached for his .38 Ruger GP-100 Revolver, drawing it and aiming toward the general direction the arrows must have came from. There were loud wolf-like howls and then commotion all around them. He saw one, large and bulging with primal rage, wolf-like face lined with sharp fangs, snarling as he charged him, covered in thick black fur. He fired all six shots into it’s chest. His Deputy fired three blasts of buckshot into it’s chest, he reared back, dazed for a moment before continuing on. Two hunters to his far left fired their rifles, a .22 Marlin and a Savage Model 110 .30-06. Joseph reached into one of the pouches on his belt for another clip, he found one and desperately pushed the clipped rounds into the open chamber, tossing the metal band away and shutting the clyiander. He quickly squeezed the trigger six more times into it. It was staggering forward now, bleeding profusely and panting, still ready to tear the first thing it reached apart. Two more shotgun blasts and several more shots from the hunters rifle brought it down, it’s chest torn apart to the point where you could see sunshine through the other. They had apparently killed it with much effort.

The victory was temporary as one of the hunters was tackled from behind, into a tree where he was mauled by claws, his friend attempting to blow the creature off him with shots from his rifle, but without the volly fire it was seemed detached from the threat. Joseph was about to bring his gun to bare on it when his deputy turned and fired behind him, it quickly became apparent at that point that they were being attacked and surrounded by multiple creatures. Someone screamed out “Run!“ The same commands was being given throughout the line, give or take some profanity. Joseph began to jog toward the road, his deputy followed him, he looked forward to see the road just beyond the trees, then turned back to find him not longer behind him. He stopped and stood looking for him only to find a blood trail through the leafs that vanished suddenly. There were only half the number of men they had came into the forest with, now attempting to defend themselves or flee. He decided to throw caution to the wind and full out sprint toward the road, his Ford Explorer along with other vehicles, police and otherwise along the side of the road where they’d left them. The gunshots began to slow, growls and snarls replacing them. He finally managed to clear the trees, nearly falling flat on his face as he ran into a ditch and back out of it. There was already another man opening the door to his truck when one of them leaped from a tree, onto the hood of the truck, causing it to rock forward before grabbing the man and running back into the forest. Joseph got into his truck and flipped the key, the engine roaring to life as another creature roared back, leaping onto the top of the truck. He hit the gas and speed forward a few feet before hitting the abandoned truck, sending the creature onto the hood. He threw it into reverse and hit the gas again, flying backwards and letting the thing slide off and onto the road. He thought he’d won, he reached down for the gear shift, he looked to his left for a split second as sharp claws flew through the glass of his window.