NukeSilo Community

STEAM_0:1:7592455 By Adam Poland (Eddie Greeves)

Server 1 This is it.
The steam billows out the same time every day. It blocks everything outside it from
View, as if to say,
‘Stop, Turn back. You have no choice. You must do as I say, you can’t leave.”
I sit back down on my seat on the bus, the girl next to me sniffles and sneezes into her sleeve…No one says “bless you” here. In this town, we never go to bed early, but no one ever sleeps late. We laugh like children and lie like the devil. People have no reason to speak to you here, so in their own mind, you’re no one. Our bus of nobodies rides into the eerie fog made by the steam. The windows are always closed, and I wonder if we could fill the bus with steam if we all worked together and opened the windows…Nobody works together.
We get to school and I walk past four kids speaking “Ebonics”.
E-Bon-Ics
1. The act of pretending your cool/tough by speaking like an idiot. (See ‘gangster’)
2. Speaking like an idiot with the attempt at being so esoteric that only idiots of the same inbred family understand.

These fools over-run the school. From what I gather, the guys only talk about ugly girls with huge butts, and the girls only talk about their guys cheating on them with the girls with the huge butts. I tried to talk to them once, I made a mental note to myself to find the significance of a word they call “faggot”. At first I thought they were asking if I had a cigarette, or some sticks. My friend says it sometimes too; I fear she’s becoming one of “them”. It scares to me see how people can confuse a word’s meaning so horribly. A bundle of sticks is way off from a homosexual.




Science. I fell asleep.
Art. I fell asleep.
English. I fell asleep.
Chorus. He wouldn’t let me sleep.

I did not sleep last night. I spent the whole night awake playing a video game. When I get home from, I throw my backpack onto the bed and boot up the computer. The steam fills the yard and surrounds the house. It’s high into the air.
School is (Or feels like) a waste of time, Even for me. I sit on the computer eighteen hours a day because I lack simple human needs like a good friend. On the internet, you’re faceless. Race less, Colorless…You have no creed or religion. Lacking a whole identity other than what you want to tell, friends over the computer, although never really meeting them, they accept, and don’t mind your simple flaws they don’t know about. They can’t see you any other way than text if you don’t want them to. Judgment must be made on your words…The way it should be. I vent Steam and connect to their server. Ventrilo is a chat program gamers use to communicate is you’re on a team. Ventrilo is called Vent for short. Steam is ironic, the steam that billows out of the factory every day at the same time when I log onto Steam, the gaming server.
It becomes apparent to me that whether we like it or not, computers are becoming necessity, and near requirement for everyone today. Dependency is becoming obvious, addiction is already here. We can feel it. Putting faith into machines is going to be our intellectual downfall; equivalent to the sudden drop of common sense in Teens in America…I blame MTV. A perfect way to describe what MTV is to music, MTV is to music as the Bible is to pizza. It was two P.M. when I logged on. Its 6 P.M. now, and even at this, I fail. The game is called Half-Life. Another alternate dimension is ripped open and creatures from the other side, blood thirsty aliens, are unleashed to the human world. Head crabs eat the heads of humans, then mutate and control the body like a zombie. If they can live long enough, they mutate into fast, smart, and deadly killing machines. They over-whelm the world and it’s up to you, and other people on the server to save it. With a crowbar, a pistol and other assortments of guns and explosives, you have to be strategic, not run-and-gun. Super powers would make life easier…
Luckily for me, you come back in this. My score is -6 / -12. That’s means I have negative six kills, and negative twelve deaths. That means, I’ve accidentally killed myself six times. I’m the biggest ‘noob’ on the server. I log off for today…
The need to play the game is minimal. I feel tired from staring at the screen. I feel like a boil, festering in front of the computer every day, but I’m plugged into it, just as it’s plugged into the wall. I float through the internet, through wires, and phone lines, cables, and electrical outlets, through wire-less routers…I’m unobstructed like the steam. I travel freely; sometimes I’m addicted and can’t get away.
I go back to school the next day, in science class today, I’m awake and do well. Art, likewise. English, I do fine, and chorus, well…I still wish I could sleep. These constant feelings of slithering skin are breaking me. My agenda for school is not like my agenda for normal living. It goes like this…

Sunday, up all night.
Monday, sleep early.
Tuesday, Up all night.
Wednesday, sleep early.
Thursday, up all night.
Friday, up late.
Saturday, Sleep late, up all night. Then I sleep during Sunday and stay up all over again.

I do all this while maintaining a slightly normal lifestyle and take care of school business…I tell myself that anyway. Scratch that- Who am I trying to kid?

Server 2 Insanity Drift
Vapor…It’s created by the steam. Vapour is created by STEAM. One blocks out the sight of the outside with moisture, the other keeps customers in touch with new deals and games. The steam is a drug. A halucigenic. The vapour is the source…Vapour just sent me a ten percent off coupon for Half-Life: Source. The updated version.
It’s like a horrible dream. One moment, the sun will be shining, through beautiful thin dark blue curtains, and the next second you’ll be looking out the broken window at a blood red sky. Horrible skinless creatures walking around aimlessly. There are no humans left. And the beautiful curtains are replaced with bloody hospital sheets. The lifeless corpses I see out in the street are unrecognizable images of the species they once were.
I open my eyes and gasp, breaking myself out of a nightmare in a cold sweat. I’m losing my mind. My sanity is dwindling away, with the past technology that becomes so obsolete oh so quickly. I get up, and close the window. This is putting me on edge. I don’t know if it’s a dream, or if I really do disappear to those…places. Sometimes I don’t need to breathe the vapour, and its happening more and more often. Something is very wrong here. Sometimes I disappear into the darkness. Someone once said, don’t be afraid of the dark, be afraid of what it hides. I feel like I'm in a horribly twisted version of H.P. Lovecraft’s Deanimator, except I can’t defend myself. I hope Lovecraft turns in his grave, and Cthulhu haunts his every dream. May he lie dead but dreaming, waiting for chaos to displace humanity…As I am.
I hope Steven king feels as insane as I do. I hope dean Koontz feels as insecure and tortured. I feel like screaming. I cry out, but only a papery yelp is freed. A kitten’s meow. My voice is dead… Because I’m disappearing to the place again…

Server 3 Real Life Is Fake In A Make-Believe Land.

I wake up hearing rain, but do not open my eyes. I listen to the soothing sound that settles the steam and my stomach. I open my eyes, and I hear dripping. The roof is leaking, and I look into the hall…Blood. I bolt to shakily open the curtains, and look out the broken window. The sight that follows sends me into an unspeakable horrified frame of mind. It’s raining blood. The streets are flooded, and there’s a thump on the roof. An occasional corpse is falling with the rain; I see that in the distance. By this point I can’t stand it because my mind has been mangled beyond anything I could ever envision. I scream…and I can’t wake up. I only just got to sleep, or…maybe, I am awake. I cut my finger on the broken glass from the window. My senses are treated to a sharp pain, and it says this is real. I’m scared and panic. I open the door to the outside, and one of these monsters notice me. A terrible skinless creature that seems so familiar has its eye on me. I say eye, because it only has one. With a terrifying screech, it jets at me, I close the door just in time to lock it, and get away before its huge claw busts through the door where my head just was. It won’t be long before it gets in. Hell has broken loose on earth. Hell broke loose into my home, and my mind.
I don’t know how to describe it. It looks like it has gang green. It’s bipedal, but has one eye. Its legs are huge and bulky, but it’s skinny. It’s exactly like the alien slaves from my game…
There has to be some head-crabs nearby. They are to the aliens as humans are to us. They’re everywhere, normal citizens. A head crab is a four legged beast, about the size of a human head. Its mouth is located underneath it. It slowly devours the head, mutates and basically manipulates the body. Stop me if I’m repeating…I’m feeling rather insane, insane, insane.
I run into the kitchen and grab the huge knife my mom used to cut the turkey on thanksgiving. What was there to be thankful for? I stand for a long time staring at the floor in a cold sweat. These creatures don’t follow the central dogma. I go upstairs in a jolt of new energy and hope when I hear the door break in. I can beat this if I can beat the game…I mean, I’ve done it before. I don’t need to conform to the guidelines of a game with invisible walls and boundaries anymore. I don’t need to do only what an artificial intelligence allows. With my knowledge of the game’s every aspect, I can do this. I think the factory is the source. It bellows the steam out so incessantly, our lives have been turned to fluid, evaporated, and condensed back into this horror I see now. I need to stop it, and it’s obvious by looking outside that the military has tried.


Server 4 Hit Rate: 63% / Chance of Survival: Undetermined
The slews of uniformed men, among roasted, cut, or shot corpses of aliens lead to the factory. I can see it through the window; all the while I can hear that beastly little bugger tear my house apart downstairs. The military did a good start job for me, but there are no more sounds of helicopters, planes, gunfire, or any yelling voices of a human. I need to find a weapon; this knife won’t do for long. I hear the alien start barreling its large legs up the stairs and I duck out of the hall into the bathroom, and slam the door shut and locked. I don’t have time to open the window leisurely, and the monster slams his fist through the door. I turn around and jab the knife into the jagged knuckles and in one cat like motion jump onto the bathtub and leap out the window onto the flat roof. I had plenty of time to decide what I was going to do now that the monster was in the hall screeching in pain.
I decided I needed a weapon. Maybe a gun. Operating a firearm is common sense, and thank goodness for video games that I know what part of a gun is what. I pay no mind to the blood red rain; there are more pressing matters at hand. I shimmy down the drain pipe onto the yard and jump the fence to the road in a sprint. I dive over one of the military officers that looked like they got killed easy. Not a lot of blood, perhaps friendly fire. I remove the side-arm from the latched holster on his leg. I examine the gun, it’s a 45. Caliber desert eagle. Seven round military non-jam clip, and there’s another clip in the holster.
“Fourteen…” I say,
“Will that be okay?” I respond.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Him, he’s…” I look up and shake my head. No, I am alone here. I won’t let my mind play like that. People do it all the time, see themselves as they want to be, or create another side…Most people are just not comfortable enough to flow with it.
There’s a growl, and a shriek behind me and I throw myself to the ground, seeing a fast head-crab sail over me. They lose all control once they jump. I aim from my prone position on the ground, cock the gun, feel the trigger release, and pull the trigger. One, two, three. The third shot hit, the first two missed and hit hell knows what somewhere far off. It’s very strong, and blows my arms back a little. I’d feel more comfortable with a 22. Cal, but I don’t have the option- Military weapons are strong. A 22. Caliber is police grade. I search other officers I see on the ground, and get six more clips from the holsters, and taken straight out of their weapons.
I start running; I need not waste ammo on anything too slow to catch me. At the exception of an ant-lion. They look a little like the monsters from starship troopers to me. They’re smart, and fast. They’ll hunt my scent if I’m too fast to catch…
I port the bullets from one clip into another to refill and freshen while I run. The factory isn’t far now. I hear the trotting sounds of more creatures behind me, but I don’t look back, I’m faster than the sluggish aliens.
I see the door cracked open from a distance. The back door entrance is open. I tell myself I only get one shot at this, and I jump, kick the door in, and hear a squish on the other end…Probably was a head-crab. Not 2 steps away from me, another alien slave sluggishly reacts to my appearance, and I lift my pistol to its one eye, close my eyes, and pull the trigger. I retreat out the door I came in. If there was anything else in there, it would follow me…Nothing comes.
When I closed my eyes, I could imagine everything in that dark factory, dripping of steam and the blood of the once living. Watching me with tainted eyes with no mercy in mind…Waiting. I decide I have to be smart now, not Rambo. I go in, and open the next door slowly from the side of the door, not in the open, one hand holding the gun. Before I even look, I get punched in the face with a rotten aroma.
They’ve taken over the inside. The smell is their world. Everything is organic; their lighting is lamps that grow like plants. The floor gurgles when you step on it, the sight and smell that fill my senses are nothing when I touch my vile surroundings. The texture is disgusting, leaving a gooey sticky substance on my hands and a nasty greasy feeling when I wipe it off. I hear another growl. The zombies are feeding on a leftover factory worker. Looks like a new kill…He was alive a few minutes ago. I unload my weapons on them, with proper aim. The groans settle and I release the clip. It falls to the floor, slips in between a crack and falls to the black, freezing pit below that sends an uneasy feeling to my spine when it takes so long for me to hear the crack of the clip hitting the ground.
Server 5 Leap of Faith
I run down the hall-way, all the doors are either open, broken, or have blood leaking out from the other side of it. I open the door at the end of the hall and give it a swift kick to hit whatever may be behind it. Fear heightens all senses, I can see better than ever, I feel stronger and faster than ever, and well, maybe not best of all, I can smell the horrid stench well. The stronger I am the better. The human body is a powerhouse. In the right conditions, there’s no differences between an M1 Tank and a soldier. I let instinct take over and find myself running of the stairs and climbing girders of the factory to see a huge monster that’s devouring the factory from bottom up. The over mind, this must be what’s making the littler buggers. I fire down at it, wasting a whole clip, and nothing.
I climb to the top of the factory as best I can, and hear someone yell,
“Flash and clear!”
I know from military games what that means. I cover my eyes, here a clank and a blast. I still get slightly blinded from the flash-bang they threw into the room. They come into the room and get stormed by a couple head-crabs, which devour one of their heads, by the sound of things. I listen to the gunfire...I hear 4 different guns, a small squad. Two released clips later, some cries and screams, I crawl down into the room and see five zombies, I guess there was already a zombie there, and the head-crabs are busy mutating the bodies of the squad that just got slaughtered. It will be easy to stop them, as I dispatch the one zombie that’s finished mutating. I walk over to the other four still mutating and blast each individually. Blood spatters onto my pants leg. One of them was assigned demolition man it seems; He has grenades, satchels, and even a small anti-tank rocket. I take them all and slowly come out onto the girders again, firing the rocket down at the over-mind…Nothing.
I drop some grenades…Nothing.
I know what will take it down and end this but…No. I can’t do that, but then again, I may have to. I take the satchel and set it on a manual release. It will kill me when I pull the release, but I can take the monster with it…I clench it to my chest and fall to the over-mind, getting pulled straight down into it’s stomach, and feel the acid starting to digest me. I can’t breath. The pain is overwhelming and I pull the release, and see a bright light…
In movies, this is called a cut-off…The story goes on, and no one knows what’s going to happen next...Life is one gigantic cut-off.
I wake up the next morning in my bed, and I look out at the blue sky, chirping robin in the oak tree…And I smile.



((So everyone knows. I'll be back soon!))

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Edward Greeves. MIA.
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You need therapy, that’s where I would go with that mayne

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all that to say you hate steam? pft,i can sum it up for ya."I hate steam"

This sorta confuses me but i think this is clear,
Its a good thing your having sometime away from Half-Life...
A real good thing...

And maybe we should have you take a pysc evaluation... We doin't want the deputy chief suddenly thinking that the towns a giant monster and the people are its minions or anything. I mean that would get crazy fast... and probably end up with a perm ban on your account...

Well try and get some rest... maybe board your window up... and maybe see your doctor, yeah that would be good.

I was thinkin more like he would go on a real life killing spree

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yeah well, that dosn't affect us all that much...
And commonly before they go on killing sprees people are know to be crazy and what ever and the drugs their perscribed to help cause alot of the problems. but if anyone knows him they may wanna stay away from him for a while.... just until he's sane, or more sane.

That was sweeeeeet.

56k messes with your mind.

And Gangstats pwn joo, FO SHO MY HOMIES!

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-Dest Romano

That's like going to a murder scene in which somebody has just died and jumping in front of the camera and saying "I DID! PAY ME MY MOTHA fu**' MONEY!" -Jared Damare

Dest was the best chief on our server ever. -Supernuker

oh yeah,looking forward to haveing you back ed

Woah woah woah. Guys you got it all wrong. We had to write a story for school. So, there it is. And Somasu, I love steam. ^_^ Hah.

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Edward Greeves. MIA.
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you have lost a valueable ally my friend >_>