Marine (Aaron's story)

[sylar]

((This is a novel I'm working on for my Heroes expanded universe. This RP won't be the final version but I thought I'd play it. Other players are welcome to get involved and influence the story.))

I stood in a bleak hotel room on the third floor; gun in hand and staring at the man I'd just killed. His blood slowly pooled towards me. That man had been sent to kill me, and three more were on their way up the stairs to my room; two more waited outside the building by the van: all were armed. Who knew how many could be hiding in the van. There were no pipes to climb out of the window and even if there were I'd been seen and shot down, escape wasn't an option so all that was left was fighting, only problem is I was all out of bullets.

[sylar]

I guess my story started when I was just nineteen years old. I was walking through the local mall going nowhere in particular until a marine corps recruit station took my eye. I don't know if it was the recent 9/11 attacks giving me a sense of duty, or the feeling that this was my supposed path --fate, if you will-- but I found myself walking to it without any kind of thought. I was only nineteen years old and physically fit, which is probably why the officer at the booth wasted no time in allowing me to sign up. Of course he asked me the usual questions.
"Why do you want to join?"
"What makes you think you're a good fit?"
You know, the things he has to ask despite the fact he was almost visibly salivating at the possibility of fresh blood. That was the day I signed up.

Before I knew it, I'd left home and started training. It wasn't always easy, but I no matter how straining it got, no matter how much I ached, bled, or cried, I always found it strangely comforting. I think it was the routine, the order, or trying to prove I had something to give and ambition to stand out from the rest.